The wind blew hard, waving the curtains for a while, before it finally stopped.
The voices in the room had gone silent.
"It turns out that I really love you," Marti's voice said.
"Really?" said Ronggur's voice.
"I used to think I really hated you."
”Hate me?”
"Shouldn't I hate you?"
”Yes, of course. Why not?”
”You’ve been gone for years…”
”Yes, you’ve gone for years…”
”There was no news.”
”There was no news.”
The door opened, and Marti appeared, wearing Ronggur's shirt, picking up her panties off the floor and putting them on.
"That's you. You like missing out,” she said, taking two cans of beer from the fridge.
She brought the beer into the room, leaving the bedroom door open.
"Oh, is that so?" said Ronggur, catching the beer Marti threw.
"Yes! It’s so!" Marti pinched Ronggur's cheek.
"Ouch!"
"Where have you been?"
Ronggur looked up at the ceiling, Marti on his chest, as if remembering everything.
“From city to city, from island to island, from continent to continent…”
Marti continued.
“From woman to woman, from bed to bed…”
Ronggur kissed Marti's hair.
”Hmm…”
”Why just ‘Hmm’? Were there any?”
”Were there any what?”
”Other women.”
"Ah, who wants to be with me."
"Me. I want to be with you. Are there any?"
”No.”
”You’re lying.”
"You asked, I answered. How come you don't believe me?"
"You must be lying. You always fall in love with women."
"Well, at least I'm not in love with a man."
Marti hit Ronggur's arm.
"Oh, you!"
Ronggur embraced her. Was there anything better between two people who loved each other than showing it?
"Are you going to marry me?" asked Marty.
Ronggur stretched his arms.
"I don't think I can."
Marti's face grew sad.
“Why?”
Ronggur's answer seemed to be for himself.
"I always leave."
"You don't feel sorry for Sandra?"
"Sandra will be strong like you."
"Not everyone can be like me."
"Sandra should be."
As her hopes disappeared, Marti yawned.
"Ah, men always do this."
"I heard there was someone who was serious."
"Well, very serious. He even divorced his wife."
"Well, not all men always leave, right?"
“But I don’t love him.”
Ronggur lit a cigarette.
"Is it that important? You'll get a nice car, a house with a swimming pool, a company, a forest concession area, and what else? Why does love matter?"
Marti took off Ronggur’s shirt, replacing it with a cloth wrapping, then smoothed her hair as she looked in the mirror.
"How can you say that? I think you don't know what love means."
”Well, you know that?”
Also read:
> Marti & Sandra (4)
> Marti & Sandra (3)
Marti's voice rose.
"You think I'm so cheap? Ah, never mind. Even though I love you, we have never been compatible. I’m wrong to have expectations for you."
Marti picked up a hairpin that had fallen out of her hair, and continued.
"Definitely, it’s better for us not to get married."
Ronggur got off the bed.
"Who told you to expect me? Where are my pants?”
He walked into the living room where the clothes were scattered. He picked up and put on what he had discarded.
“What can be expected of me?” he said, “I/m just a traveling merchant. OK, just marry the sick man. You must be lucky. Hmph! Love..."
Sandra, who had been asleep on the floor, opened her eyes.
The two adults were still exchanging words.
"How can a prostitute talk about love!"
"You can say whatever you want. I am a prostitute, but not just any prostitute.”
"’A prostitute, but not just any prostitute.’ A whore, whatever anyone calls her, is still a whore."
Marti was silent for a moment before she spoke again, holding back her feelings.
"Is that what you think? Hmph! Now I'm thankful we'll never marry!”
Sandra closed her eyes again.
This article was translated by Hyginus Hardoyo.
