Chapter 2. The Beginning of Suffering

"This is the room for you," Melvin said, opening the door to the room he was referring to.

"T-this-"

Uhuk! Uhuk!

Danas coughed, shaking his hands to keep the dust from making him cough. The room was dusty and dirty, and many unused items were there.

His mouth dropped open at the sight of the room before him. She never even thought that he would tell her to stay in a room that was not worthy of being called a room.

A sense of claustrophobia, helplessness, and suffering came over her. Danas's rough breathing could be heard.

"Why, do you wanna sleep with me??"

Danas wanted to say something, but when he heard Melvin's voice, he fell silent.

"Don't dream! Don't dream about sleeping with me."

"But I'm your wife!"

"Wife? Yes, you are my wife but in front of people. I don't consider you my wife. You don't deserve to be the wife of Melvin Mahameru."

Danas squeezed the hem of her dress; she wouldn't have expected the man in front of her to hurt her heart again and again, breaking it time and time again; her heart was stinging, and her tears wanted to spill out immediately, but remembering her words to her mother, she chose to try to be strong in the face of Melvin's treatment of her.

After saying that, Melvin left Danas just like that.

A man who had no feelings at all.

"I have to be strong," she said. "This place will be nice, if I tidy it up. I'll make it a beautiful room," he said again.

Srek!

She had only taken one step when she heard the sound of the dress she was wearing tearing. Danas looked behind her and saw that the skirt of her wedding dress was caught in a piece of junk.

"Oh, Shit. I hope he won't scold me for ruining this expensive dress."

"That dress is so cheap, turning it into a mop isn't worth anything to me."

Danas looked towards the door; it was obvious that Melvin was carrying some objects in his hands, then threw them unceremoniously on the floor.

"You need these to clean this room."

Danas swallowed his saliva; the man told him to clean the room at night as if she was a maid. The mansion had so many empty rooms, but Melvin had told her to clean the warehouse that would be her room.

The man who was her husband now considered her worthless.

The sound of the door closing allowed her to sigh relief when Melvin wasn't home.

Shoulders down, face resigned slowly, the girl began to clean the room. It was 3 p.m. when she finished cleaning the room. Mopping, arranging the things she didn't use, and then lying on the old bed.

Her face stared at the room's Melvins, still looking for where she had gone wrong. She never even knew what she had done until he hated her. Melvin never told her what she did wrong.

The man he loved for a long time yet hated for no reason. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes without prompting when remembering Melvin's treatment of her.

It felt like a heavy burden that she was thinking about right now.

Her father's company had gone bankrupt, coupled with the accident back home, not to mention they had to move out of the house where she had grown up because the bank seized all their assets. It was Melvin who did all that to her.

There was never an explanation, only anger, which said don't pretend to know what happened; the girl did not know anything about what Melvin said.

The daydream made her eyes slowly close, coupled with the breeze coming from the room balcony, whose door was not closed by her.

Byur!

The splash of water made her jump in surprise, and fell to her knees.

"Slacker!"

Hearing that heavy voice made her get up immediately when she saw who the man was who splashed her with water.

"M-Melvin."

"Melvin? Don't ever call me by name," the man once again emphasized that Danas should not call his name.

Danas lowered his head.

His body shivered, accompanied by the fear of the presence of the man in front of him right now. His body was too tired, making him oversleep.

"Sorry." Danas lowered his head, not daring to look.

Melvin crossed his arms over his chest, staring intently at Dana's.

"Shit. Don't show that annoying face."

Danas looked at Melvin briefly, then immediately lowered his head back. His heart was beating erratically; there was fear, especially since the man's face looked cold.

"Why the silence? You didn't cook for me, huh?!"

"Ee..."

"From now on it's your job, cooking, cleaning the whole house. I've fired some maids."

"B-but, I have to go to college."

"I don't want to know, you have to clean the house before you go to college. I hate rejection. Do you understand?" asked Melvin.

There was no answer from Danas; the girl's mind was wandering.

"Do you understand?" asked Melvin once again, this time his voice rising.

"Yes," Danas stammered.

"So, what did you do? You didn't make me breakfast?"

Danas rushed out of the room, heading for the kitchen, still with his wet clothes clinging to his body. His hands were handy with the knife on the cutting board, chopping ingredients.

From the second floor, the cold man stared at Danas, who was cooking.

It was Danas' second time cooking; he usually prepared breakfast and dinner for the family. He was getting used to living independently after his father went bankrupt, having to cook his food without a maid. Occasionally she wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

She was organizing food for the man who was watching her.

Melvin frowned, looking at some of the food on the table.

"What is this food? You want me to eat food like this?"

Danas swallowed his saliva, hearing Melvin's words insulting his cooking.

"If you don't want this food, don't insult it. It's not nice!"

"Oh hoh! You want to patronize me?"

"N-not like that."

Melvin's sharp gaze made Danas tense up.

"W-why don't you eat it first, if it's not good I'll cook you something else."

"No need. Seeing what you're cooking makes me lose my appetite."

"But you haven't tasted my cooking yet."

"Didn't I say no need? Why do you want to force me? Huh?! Or, did you put something in this dish to poison me?"

"N-no, I wouldn't dare do that, you saw me cook it too."

"Maybe, you put something in when I didn't know,"

Again, Melvin gripped his jaw hard. That man always did that to him. Danas could only grimace in pain and tried to break away from the man before him.

"I-I didn't do it."

A look of hatred and emotion was clearly visible on Melvin's face at that moment.

"Why don't you just be honest, you must have put something in your cooking right?"

"N-no, M-Melvin, I didn't."

The strong grip made Danas so tormented.

"Your face makes me sick, your actions make me want to make your life more miserable."

"Why did you do that to me?" asked Danas as tears again welled up in the corners of his eyes.

"Always showing a face and tears that piss me off. Why do you always show it to me? I hate your fake face, it makes me sick."

Danas couldn't say anything; whatever he did, was always wrong in the eyes of the man before him. He didn't know what to do to not look wrong in Melvin's eyes.

He still didn't know what the root of Melvin's anger was.