HALAL LOVER (Already Published )

Section 20

~How does it feel to miss someone you can't have? Even now that person belongs to someone else. Sick right? That's certain. ~

The young man was sitting on the front porch of the house. His eyes kept staring at the photo of a hooded girl, inside his phone. Sometimes tears fell from the young man's eyes.

"How are you, Zah? I miss you so much. Sure, you're happy now, with the man of your choice." The young man turned off the phone and put it on the table. Then step forward standing near the pole.

"Repeatedly, I tried to forget you but never could. Wh why? I always try to forget this feeling, but the bigger I try. In fact, this miss always comes. Why is it God?"

The young man continued to monologue himself in the heart. His eyes looked forward, the morning gust of wind swung the sheath he was wearing. His eyes closed for a moment and the warm mouth was free to escape.

***

Ghibran was still focused on driving, while Azizah was still asleep in the backseat. There was really no conversation between them during the trip. The ghibran glanced slightly at Azizah through the windshield attached at the top, the young man slightly lowered the glass so that he could see Azizah.

Ghibran kept looking at the sleeping Azizah, without the woman knowing. Until the arch on the lips of the handsome young man was seen. Smiling, well Ghibran smiled looking at Azizah. Suddenly Azizah woke up from her sleep, suddenly making Ghibran a little wave made. Because, afraid Azizah knew that from earlier she was looking at the beautiful woman.

"Have you arrived?" azizah asked as she squinted her eyes, looking ahead.

"In a moment," replied the flat Ghibran, as if nothing had happened.

"M." mm." Azizah nodded and went back to sleep.

"Basic weird chick!" aspir Ghibran. "Even sleep again" he continued, shaking his head to see Azizah from the glass.

But suddenly, Azizah woke up again and confirmed her sitting position. The ghibran who saw him was a little surprised. Fortunately he was not looking at Azizah, he thought so.

"Why wake up again?" tanya Ghibran is still focusing on driving.

"Hmm, can we stop for a second?" Azizah asked again.

"For what?" ask Ghibran confused.

"I want to, e—e ..." replied the woman stammered and did not continue her speech.

"If that's the right thing, what do you want? The obvious one."

"I want to go to the toilet" said Azizah and then immediately bowed. Maybe it's shameful to have to tell the Ghibran.

"Oh, okay. Up ahead there happens to be a gas station, you can fill up the gas first and you can go to the toilet." Azizah smiled at the words of the Ghibran.

It didn't take long, the gas station was sighted and Ghibran went in. Azizah got out of the car and ran to the toilet, while Ghibran was waiting in line to fill the gas.

"Aisha, what is Aisha?" Ghibran slightly squinted his eyes when he saw a woman hijab like Aisha. The young man got out of his car and looked towards the woman.

"How many people do you want to fill?" ask the gas station attendant. But Ghibran still focused on the woman he considered Aisyah.

"Sir, how much do you want to fill? Sorry sir, how much do you want to fill?" Once again the officer asked and this time Ghibran immediately realized because he got a slow clap from the gas station officer.

"Haa, 4 mas." The officer nodded and Ghibran got back into his car.

Azizah was finished from the toilet and was like seeing someone she knew. Azizah chased after the man and managed to stop him.

"What's wrong, mbak?" the woman asked, looking at Azizah.

"Sorry, I guess my friend." The woman left Azizah.

"I'm sure I saw Ayesha here. But why isn't there?" Azizah stepped away.

A hijab-wearing woman was hiding behind a wall, watching Azizah leave.

"I'm sorry Zah, I'm not ready to meet you let alone have to meet Ghibran. I'm sorry." The woman also left that place.

Azizah paused from her steps and turned her head back, silent for a moment then resumed her steps. Ghibran was waiting for Azizah by the roadside in his car. Azizah was about to open the rear car door. But suddenly Ghibran's head was on the front door window, leaving the woman speechless.

"Sit down in front" Ghibran ordered, and his head went back in. Azizah immediately entered and sat in the front seat.

The ghibran immediately started the car engine and they drove by the car. Along the way, Ghibran continued to think about the incident. Likewise with Azizah, he was still imagined the incident earlier. Azizah continued to bow to think about the incident earlier. Should he have told Ghibran about the incident?

"So" they said at the same time. Azizah and Ghibran looked at each other for a while.

"You go first" said Ghibran.

"No, no. Go ahead, you go first." Azizah was back down.

"You go first, you're a woman to take precedence." Azizah was shocked to hear Ghibran's words. And looked at the young man for a moment.

"So I, like I saw Ayesha," Azizah told me. Ghibran turned to Azizah and refocused on driving.

"Where?" ask Ghibran flat.

"At the gas station earlier, but I managed to catch up with that, it wasn't Aisyah."

"Maybe you saw it wrong."

"Yes maybe, so miss her," said Azizah smiling bitterly. "Oh, what did you want to say?"

"Ah, no, it's nothing" Ghibran replied lying.

"Basic weird guy!" as Azizah slowly.

"I don't have to tell Azizah. He had already suffered enough all this time, especially if he had to meet with Aisyah."

Ghibran spoke in his heart, turned to Azizah who was looking at the window, then the young man refocused on driving.

 

\*

 

The woman was sleeping in the lap of the Umi. Let go of his longing for his beloved mother. After a month of not living together. Fatimah gently stroked the back of her only daughter while she gave her smile.

"Mi" said Azizah, breaking the silence between them.

"Yes, what's wrong?" fatimah asked, continuing to caress Azizah's back.

"Mi," again Azizah called Fatimah, but it had been endorsed by her uminya.

"What's up, son?" Fatimah asked again.

"Azizah misses umi." The woman kissed the umi's hand many times and then held it tightly. Fatimah smiled at Azizah's words.

Ghibran was sitting on the bed, in Azizah's room. After performing the Ashar prayer, the young man did not leave the room. Maybe give Azizah some time together. Ghibran still remembered the incident at the gas station, where he saw a woman like Aisyah.

"Is that woman right, Ayesha? But Azizah said, Aisyah does not live in Indonesia anymore. And Azizah also saw Aisha. There is a possibility, if indeed the woman is Ayesha," Ghibran murmured in his heart while rubbing his face rough.

"Aisha," he continued.

Aisyah has not been replaced by the heart of Ghibran. However, Azizah's existence could have replaced Aisha's position in Ghibran's heart. Azizah is his current wife. It should be Azizah who fills his heart, not another woman.

Love does not come easily, especially if we are faced in circumstances such as those experienced by Ghibran and Azizah. But, do not rule out the possibility if they could fall in love again after the heartbreak is felt.

Azizah fell asleep in the lap of Fatimah, Ghibran was down the stairs. His eyes were immediately fixed on the sleeping woman on Fatimah's lap. Ghibran immediately approached him.

"Azizah sleeps mi," said Ghibran spoke rather loudly.

"Syuuut, don't be hard." Fatimah gestured by closing her lips with her index finger. "Son, can you help us move Azizah?" he asked Ghibran.

"May mi, let Ghibran help."

Ghibran raised Azizah's body in his lap and led Azizah to the room. Fatimah who saw it just kept smiling looking at the scene of her daughter and daughter-in-law.

Although the awkward feeling felt by Ghibran, but he did not care about it. Ghibran laid Azizah's body on the bed. Then cover the woman's body with a blanket. The handsome young man continued to look at Azizah's sleeping face.

"Funny" he said, smiling at Azizah.

But suddenly Azizah's hand moved, and the Ghibran hurried away from Azizah. Afraid, if the woman woke up and saw herself looking at the woman's face. However, Ghibran's guess was wrong, it turns out that Azizah only changed his sleeping position to tilt, turning his back to Ghibran. A smile on the face of Ghibran.

the next day ...

Azizah was busy preparing for breakfast in the kitchen. Fried rice, well, the breakfast menu today is quite fried rice and omelet only. Doesn't everyone like fried rice? Ghibran likes it too.

"Hmmm, what's cooking? The smell was smelled into the living room." Fatimah came to Azizah, Azizah turned her head for a moment and smiled.

"Nasi fried noodles," said Azizah again stirring her cooking.

"Hmm, umi help me out."

"No need to mi, soon finished really," declined Azizah softly.

"Well, if that's umi bantuin taro to the table, well," pinta Fatimah while taking a plate and a plate containing an omelet. Azizah just nodded her ass.

Fatimah put the plates on the table and poured water on the glass. Ghibran came from the top and directly approached Fatimah who was tidying the tableware.

"More mi" said Ghibran, smiling. Fatimah looked and smiled.

"By the morning, let's eat breakfast first. Soon the breakfast is ready" Fatimah ordered, stopping to pour water.

"Yes mi." The ghibran pulled up the chair and sat down. His eyes looked around the house, as if there was something the young man was looking for. Fatimah looked at her daughter-in-law's behavior, and smiled.

"Azizah, still in the kitchen, cooking breakfast." Fatimah's words made Ghibran a little surprised and somewhat salang manner.

"Oh, ii— yes mi." The young man sounded clumsy. Fatimah smiled at Ghibran's behavior.

Azizah came carrying the fried rice in a container. And immediately put it on the table.

"The breakfast is done" Azizah smiled. The ghibran looked at Azizah, and continued to look at her.

"Look, have breakfast first" Fatimah told Ghibran. Ghibran was still engrossed in his daydreams looking at Azizah.

Fatimah was a little confused, as Ghibran did not respond. He looked at Azizah giving a signal. Azizah who saw the attitude of the Umi was a little confused and did not understand, she raised both eyebrows a sign of incomprehension. Fatimah's eyes glanced at Ghibran without turning her head, who was still staring at her daughter. Azizah looked directly at Ghibran.

Sure enough, the young man was busy looking at him with a plate that had been held by the Ghibran. Azizah looked confused and strange to see the attitude of the Ghibran that morning.

"What's wrong with this guy, why does he keep looking at me? Abis kambet satan what the hell is he, weird! What is he looking at?"

Aziziah monologues inwardly looking strangely at the Ghibran and then seeing himself from top to bottom. There may be something strange in him, he thought.

"Here, I'll get you breakfast." Azizah took the plate in Ghibran's hand. To make Ghibran realized from his daydream and a little misbehavior. Fatimah who saw him only smiled a little.

"Astagfirullahaladzim, what did I do? Why are you a Ghibran, why? Why can't I take my eyes off Azizah?" ghibran murmured in his heart.

"Look, eat it fast, son. It will be cold" orders Fatimah.

"Yes mi," replied Ghibran and slowly entered his first feed.

"Wow! It's delicious, I've never eaten such good fried rice. It was, exactly, umi cuisine." Ghibran spoke inwardly, commenting on Azizah's fried rice.

"How's the fried rice, good?" ask Fatimah to Ghibran.

"Enak mi, very tasty," praised Ghibran enthusiastically. Fatimah just smiled hearing that. So too with Azizah. He smiled at Ghibran's attitude, which looked different.

\*\*\*

"The more I try to forget you, the more I can't, why? Rabb, I know this is wrong. Because I still love him, even now he is the husband of people. But why is this feeling still in this heart. How long is Allah, until when?"

The red-hijab woman cried seeing a photograph of a handsome, white-skinned young man in her hand. Tears flooded the beautiful face.

"Have a son, until when will you be like this? Forget her," said a middle-aged woman with a long headscarf who came to him.

"I can't mi, I can't. I've tried it, but I still can't." The woman curled up even more crying. Anyone who sees it will feel sad. Same with the middle-aged manita, crying and hugging her daughter.

"I love her, love her so much. But, why— why did God not allow me to unite with him, why mi, why?" The woman grew sobbing in the arms of the Umi.

"Patience son, patience sweetheart, patience. God has His own way. God must have prepared something beautiful for you, baby." The Umi kept calming her daughter. The sadness on his face could no longer be covered by him.

"It's unfair, it's unfair" the hysterical screamed the woman let go of a hug.

"Patience son, patience. Dear Istigfar, istigfar." The middle-aged woman instantly pulled her daughter back into her arms.

"It's unfair, unfair, unfair, unfair, unfair." The woman continued to chatter, her eyes wet with tears. His eyes were so puffy because he kept crying.

***

Azizah was sitting on the porch of her house reading her favorite novel. Fatimah came with two cups of tea and kept them on a small table and sat down near Azizah.

"Read what, nduk? Seriously it seems," asked Fatimah looking at Azizah.

"Eye." Azizah looked a little surprised. "Since when, umi sat here?" azizah asked and closed the novel she had read.

"Duh, wrestling! Umi just come, you don't know son."

"Hehe, sorry mi. Earlier, Azizah was focusing on reading novels so it's okay if there's an umi."

"Hmm."

"Well, my favorite tea." Azizah looks happy to see a cup of tea combined with milk. Well, this lady really likes him.

"Yes, umi deliberately made it for you dear."

"Thank you umi." Azizah smiled and narrowed her cheeks slowly and then immediately sipped her favorite tea. "Hmmm, very good, very good. Perpecto," continued Azizah praised the tea made uminya while putting together his thumb and index finger. (Ok)

Fatimah just shook her head and smiled at her daughter's behavior.

"Oh, baby, how does it feel to live in your in-laws' house?"

"Nake mi, I'm comfortable living there. Very inconvenient. My mother-in-law and father-in-law are very kind, I'm lucky to get in-laws as good as they are mi."

"Alhamdulillah, umi happy to hear it. That your husband?" Fatimah's question slightly made Azizah speechless and surprised.

"He, he's good mi too. It's just, it's a little bit annoying," Azizah replied as she kept the cup on the table again.

"Sucks how?"

"Well, the pokonya sucks at me."

"Hmm, oh yeah baby. How, are there any signs yet son?"

"Signs, mi?" tanya Azizah looked confused. Fatimah just nodded.

"Yes, signs."

"Signs what does umi mean?" Fatimah gave an answer with a gesture, her hand placed on her stomach. Azizah still did not understand, raising both eyebrows.

"Somach? What, umi mean?"

"Pregnant darling."

"Pregnant?" Fatimah nodded "umi pregnant?" the woman looked surprised. Fatimah immediately shook her head.

"No, no, no. Not umi, but you're gonna."

"Huh, i. I'm pregnant?" Azizah pointed to herself.

"Dear, are there any signs of you getting pregnant? You guys, it's been a month of marriage. Umi's impatient, wanting to fondle grandchildren." Fatimah smiling implied her wish.

"Not yet mi."

"How can I get pregnant, I haven't done that with the Ghibran. How can I do all that, while sleeping alone we're still apart. In fact, Ghibran has never touched me. And, I'm not ready yet.

Especially if I have to do it with someone I don't love. Ghibran is the same as me, he's not ready yet. I'm sorry Azizah mi, Azizah has not been able to grant Umi's wish to give grandchildren. Sorry mi."

The woman continued to monologue herself looking at the umi. With a sad look, he continued to watch his generally wrinkled face that was no longer young.