The evening wind swept over the fresh grave. At the cemetery, grief was no more dominant than anger. There was one thing Ardi had to be grateful for: Kia had been the only child of a woman who had struggled to raise her daughter on her own. So Ardi only had to face the piercing glare of one person, Jayanti. Jayanti, Kia’s mother, hadn’t let up on her fury toward Ardi for even a second. What mother would accept her child, whom she had raised with so much difficulty, being betrayed and buried beneath a mound of earth like this?!
When the cemetery had grown nearly empty, leaving only Ardi, his mother, and Jayanti, she hurried over. Her steps were slow, but each one striking the ground sounded like a warning. She had kept her distance long enough. She had held back her rage long enough for the two people she had wanted to hack to pieces from the very beginning.
His mother-in-law’s hand rose, pointing straight at Ardi’s forehead. Her lips trembled, and now her voice vibrated with fury as she began raining anger down on him.
“If Kia had never met you, her life wouldn’t have ended up this miserable! I know—”
“Jeng.” Maya, Ardi’s mother, interrupted. She lowered her in-law’s hand from her son’s face.
“SHUT UP!”
Maya choked. This was the first time she had ever heard Jayanti speak in such a raised voice.
“You think I approved of my daughter marrying your son? You think any mother would willingly let her child become a second wife, huh?” Jayanti’s reddened eyes bore into Maya. “No! I did not approve! I was not willing! If Kia hadn’t forced me to accept your damn son, I guarantee my daughter would still be alive. My daughter would be living just fine.”
“Ma,” Ardi said.
“I SAID SHUT UP! Don’t call me Mama anymore. And listen! I’m the only one here who’s allowed to speak. You.” Jayanti pointed at Ardi’s face again. “I know how much my daughter cried because of you. I also know your first wife often intimidated my daughter, and you did nothing about it, right?”
“I tried—”
“Tried to protect her.” Jayanti seized control of their conversation again. “If you had protected her, my daughter wouldn’t have been killed. You were never firm with your wife from the beginning! Even after my daughter got pregnant, you still didn’t dare choose. Not even when my daughter asked you to divorce your wife.”
This time, Ardi chose to remain silent. He simply lowered his head and closed his eyes. For some reason, at a moment like this, Ardi only wanted to contact someone.
Jayanti did not interpret Ardi’s silence as guilt, but as the silence of a coward who had run out of excuses.
“And you!” Maya did not escape Jayanti’s pointing finger or blazing eyes. “You treated my daughter like a factory. How many herbal remedies have you given my daughter to make her get pregnant faster? How much pregnancy literature did you force my daughter to study until she became so stressed? All you ever thought about was demanding a grandchild, demanding a grandchild. Did you ever truly accept my daughter? Kia as a whole person, not as a woman whose womb you targeted to carry your future grandchild?!”
“Jeng, Kia never complained about the things we did.”
“Things you did! Not things Kia did. So don’t use the word ‘we’ to make everything look perfectly fine. I’m her mother! I know when my daughter isn’t okay. Your damn fertility program tormented her! You should have forced that damn killer into a fertility program, not my fertile daughter!”
Killer. One word that made Ardi squeeze his eyes shut even tighter. Ardi knew exactly who that label had been given to.
“She’s infertile!” Maya answered firmly. Ardi immediately glanced at his mother. He didn’t know why, but every time his mother brought up Kirana’s infertility, a turmoil of feelings stirred inside him—feelings he still couldn’t define.
“She’s not infertile, Ma.”
Ardi’s answer earned a response from Jayanti’s hand as it struck his cheek.