A short story: You’re gone, I’ll hug you lonely

darulmaarif.net – Indramayu, 30 October 2025 | 15.00 WIB

The thick night fell on the house, bringing cold air that seeped between the windows of Arman and Rufaidah’s old house. On a worn wooden chair with a plank floor, Arman sat stunned, his face like a dusty book full of bitter memories. The sound of raindrops falling anesthetized the silence, hiding the sound of tears that he never let fall in front of other people.

Suddenly, a young man stepped slowly over. His eyes were full of curiosity as he asked, “Mr. Arman, why haven’t you remarried until now, even though your wife has died for fifteen years?”

Arman took a deep breath, as if calling the pages of the past to open slowly.

“Then, I’ll tell you a story from my time with my wife.” His voice was heavy, carrying all the burden of feelings that he had never let go of.

Rufaidah and I once had a very intense fight. That night, my words became an arrow that pierced my heart, and I accidentally swung too deep.
“I don’t want to see your face anymore; go home to your parents,” I said with anger overflowing from the depths of my heart.

Rufaidah left without crying, but I knew she would have deep wounds. Silence filled our house, wrenching the soul that we once built and knit love together.

After a week I missed him, then I went to pick him back. I knocked on the door, my wife opened the door longingly, then she hugged me warmly and whispered in my ear, ‘Don’t tell my family about what happened between us. Just say I’m traveling and I’m just stopping by to visit them.’

Without words, we met in a warm embrace that erased the cold and anxiety.

Then I asked myself,
“How can you find a heart that can keep your secrets and maintain your honor, even though the problems you face are very big?”

His words are full of secrets and protect the family’s honor, his actions are simple but full of meaning.

***

I often ask myself, how can someone keep such a big secret and protect honor when love is being put to the ultimate test?

In a tense but loving dialogue, I once asked my wife, “Why do you stay with me even though I have hurt you?”

He looked at me, as if weighing the burden we were carrying together, then said in a low voice, “Because I know, love is not just a word, but a struggle that we choose to go through together, even though the storms of life often hit our household.”

“You’re afraid of losing me, aren’t you?” I asked in an almost pleading tone.

“No, I’m afraid of losing ourselves if we give up,” he answered.

***

Suddenly, our story changed. Fifteen years have passed, and I haven’t remarried, not because I’m imprisoned by the past alone. There’s a big secret that I’ve been hiding all this time.

Rufaidah never left me even though her body was gone. He once fell ill, and I cared for him away from the attention of the world. But I am disabled, not by a physical disease, but by a deep emotional wound.

All this time I have been guarding our home, keeping our love alive in silence, not for the sake of the world. But for the sake of the memories that lead me to survive. No one knows what I hide in the depths of this chest.

**

Now, I sit alone reminiscing, grateful for every second I had with him. Even though this wound never heals, and time continues to pass, the love we knit remains a lantern in the darkness of my heart.

Maybe love is not about perfection, but about the courage to persist, forgive, and protect secrets that can only be heard within the walls of our own home.

I say one big lesson in my life, and for married couples everywhere:

“Even though the problems you are facing are very big, lucky for married couples whose problems are never heard by other people, except within the walls of their own house.”

I saw the young man who came up to me stunned, had time to reflect, and his eyes were now filled with tears. He immediately said goodbye to go home, with a friendly smile on his face, and said how lucky I was to have a wife whose story never gets old.

Finished.