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Logic Between Love

"Do you want to be a career woman or do you want to be my wife?" asked Wildan with a serious face. Nafisa is clearly surprised, she understands that there are men who like her. Meeting with Wildan with the aim of just looking for work, turned out to be a love bond. One strong reason for Nafisa not to pursue the love of her life is because she was born as a simple woman. Meanwhile Wildan, who has been looking for his true love, He used his logic to chase Nafisa. Is their love really anchored in the same heart?

Fifilani · Ciudad
Sin suficientes valoraciones
23 Chs

Insult

Nafisa had just woken up. Her only three hours of sleep made her head still hurt.

Not how, Nafisa all day looking for job vacancies via social media. But never get information where she can work.

"Ish, you're in a bad mood this morning!" Nafisa said as she opened her smartphone to monitor the inbox that was sent last night.

On average, all the answers from people looking for workers had the same answer.

"Where's previous experience?" muttered Nafisa reading the various rows of inbox messages she read.

"Ish, so annoying, argh!" cursed Nafisa, her hands were already flying in the air. Almost without realizing it, Nafisa threw her cellphone on the floor.

Thankfully, her brain still realized one thing. If he threw the flat object, it would be the same as Nafisa asking that she would never be able to have a cell phone again.

Nafisa's cell phone rings. The contact's screen call has the name "Zonk". There was none other than a phone call from Nafisa.

"Hey!"

Nafisa snorted in disgust. She didn't want to pick up the phone but she was curious about something. Her best friend doesn't usually call her in the morning.

Is it because of wanting to apologize? Ah no. The reason is, the apology of her two friends happened last night via video call. Where, Nafisa had no problem with the things that irritated her two friends.

"Hello, why, Has?" asked Nafisa by telephone.

"Naf, I have good news for you. There is a locker from my friend who is looking for a job. But you don't need a bachelor," said Hasfia on the phone.

"Has, first of all, I thank you for taking care of me to find a job in the midst of the family's economic situation. But I don't think I can get a job that doesn't require a diploma. Is it okay, I'm a graduate and I can't get a job? I still have brains, Has!"

The telephone connection ended unilaterally. Nafisa was so irritated that she immediately turned off her cellphone in an emotional state. It's true, Nafisa for work matters to choose those that at least match her educational background. It doesn't matter if she's been unemployed for more than a year.

"It's really complicated to be a graduate. You know it's better not to go to college at all!" cursed Nafisa while pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Eat first, there is no income. The one who has expenses is you, Sis,"

I don't know how many times Nafisa has heard the tweet from her sister's mouth. There was an air of annoyance seeping into his heart.

"If it wasn't my sister, I would have slapped you all the way!" Nafisa snapped emotionally.

"Week! Try it you dotted!"

"What?!"

Nafisa is getting annoyed, not playing. She wanted to tear her sister's mouth. One word that makes Nafisa even more insecure is a dotted word directed at her.

"Shut up, Sis? Do you really feel bad? Even though you just-"

Set!

The throw pillow hit Fadli's face perfectly. Nafisa doesn't care if the lot of white has a zipper that makes her sister's nose slightly scratched.

"Mom!" Fadli shouted not accepting it.

The 17 year old man burst into tears. Meanwhile, Nafisa grimaced in annoyance hearing everything.

"Report a crybaby! Who told you to insult your own brother with a dotted name!"

For a long time, the two of them argued with each other. One in a loud voice, while the other in a hoarse voice.

"Uh, uh, what's this?"

Saharia hastily walked into the living room. The woman had just arrived and was already treated to hearing each other screaming in the house.

"Mom, that's a very cruqel dotted brother. She beat me, Ma," said Nafisa sobbing

"Nafisa!"

"Mom, she said I was ugly. Would I want to stay silent when he said that?"

Nafisa defended desperately. She is like the wrong person.

"That's it, Nafisa. You'vare better go to aunty Imma's house. She's still looking for you to help out at the shop," said Saharia, breaking the angry situation.

Nafisa took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment to normalize her current feelings.

"Yes, Mom," answered Nafisa resignedly.

***

Nafisa walked unsteadily out of the hall from her house. There was something new felt by the woman. She just realized if she did not bring any money.

"Well, then how do I go to Imma's house? Do I have to walk there?"

Nafisa scratched her head in confusion. She glanced at the passing vehicles. It doesn't matter if her face is exposed to air pollution.

"Damn it!" cursed Nafisa in her heart.

From a distance, Nafisa has been the subject of someone's attention. The automatic motorbike stopped under a shady tree about 5 meters from Nafisa's standing position.

Nafisa herself did not see it because her back was to the motorcyclist.

Slowly, the man in the leather jacket and black helmet covering her face came to Nafisa who was still standing on the sidewalk.

Don't ask anymore, Nafisa is still chattering softly to herself. Cursing her behavior that just left without bringing any money.

"Come on, just walk!"

Nafisa was surprised to feel her wrists being grabbed from behind. The woman didn't want to turn around. She panicked. But she showed her panic in a stony style. Her eyes were closed as she bit her lower lip anxiously.

"Please don't touch me. I'm just an ugly and poor woman. It's useless if you touch me," Nafisa pleaded.

The man laughed. Actually he wanted to show who was dealing with Nafisa. The woman who did not want to look back at all.

"Nafisa, it's me Arham."

"W-want Arham, want Amar, want anyone, I don't want to know your name! P-please let go of my hand. You're holding my hand too tight!"

Nafisa tried to escape her hand. But she was so hard to remember her strength is not comparable to that person.

Give up.

Nafisa finally no longer rebelled. She felt that the person who was still holding her wrist didn't mean to do anything bad.

"Who are you? You've been talking to me like someone you know. Who are you?" asked Nafisa inquiringly.

Really, Nafisa could not recognize the person.

The man whose identity was unclear in front of Nafisa spontaneously stretched out her hand.

"The person who shared the post with you when you were in college."