Prince Cinta Beda Religious

Prince Cinta Beda Religious
Miracle



As promised. This morning Prince returned to accompany Isma to walk in the garden. At first everything went well. In the end, Prince lost his guard.


The man in black clothes recklessly returned to carry out his plan. He dashed out from behind, hitting Isma and Prince who were walking leisurely.


Ggubbrraa…


The man hit the bodies of Isma and Prince together. Prince and Isma's hands slipped off. Isma's body fell to the left and Prince's body fell to the right. The black-clothed man continued his steps without looking back.


"Honey.." Shouted Prince worried when he saw Isma face down.


Prince is experiencing the same thing. He also fell face down on the grass, and without realizing it his forehead was stumbling on the edge of the wooden garden chair.


Prince stood up and stepped as fast as he could to Isma. He immediately carried Isma's body in his lap.


"Honey.." Call him while stroking Isma's stomach and face.


"Mas.." He said very weakly.


Prince's worried. He tried to lift Isma's body. At that moment, Prince felt pain in his ankle. But, she held him back and continued to try to stand up while holding Isma's body.


In Prince's arms, Isma was silent. His eyes were open, but not blinking. His breath was not heard by Prince.


"Honey.. baby.. last a minute."


Tears had already dripped from his eyes. His aching ankle was ignored. What he was thinking about right now was the safety of his wife and children.


Some people who saw Prince's teased steps and drops of blood from behind Isma's robe, helped Prince bring Isma's body to arrive in the car.


"Darling..dear hold on.." Prince said.


The tears that kept flowing made his gaze blurry. The men helped get Isma's body into the car. Isma's body was seated in the front seat and was fitted with a seatbelt by them.


"Thank you.. thank you.." Prince said without being able to see clearly the faces of the people who had helped him.


Prince immediately drove his car to the nearest hospital. Isma was still silent and started breathing with a short, short breath.


"Darling.." Prince stroked his face.


The other hand holds the steering wheel tightly. Luckily the streets were not so crowded, so Prince could speed.


"Mma.mmass.." Said Isma stammered and tears flowed in her eyes.


"Yes, baby, I'm here. Soon we shall come.." And stroked Isma's cheek without turning.


Prince should focus on staring at the jalana ahead. Because he could not see clearly due to the tears that continued to flow.


Isma's breathing sounded fast and panting. It felt like Prince wanted to immediately stop the car and embrace Isma's body. But he didn't want to be late to take her to the hospital.


"Dear, any minute. Hang on, please. O Allah.." said Prince in his tears.


"God.. hmhmm.God.." said Isma in the midst of his breath.


Prince turned his car into a hospital. He quickly turned off the car engine, then got down and ran hastily open the car door for Isma.


Soon Prince carrying Isma's body into the hospital. And blood continued to splatter along the way Prince brought Isma's body into the hospital.


The sister who saw that, immediately brought the wheelchair to Prince. But Prince didn't pay attention to that. He continued to carry Isma's body and took her to a public treatment room.


Immediately Prince laid Isma's body on the bed in the public care room.


"Doctor please save my wife and children." He said to the Sister who had brought him a wheelchair.


"Be patient, I'll first check the circumstances." Her speech.


Then the nurse asked one of the other sisters to call the obstetrician. While he tried to check on Isma. And Prince was still faithfully standing there holding Isma's hand tightly.


"What's going on!" The new Doctor came in hasty steps.


"It looks like there's bleeding Doc." The nurse who examined Isma.


"Doctor please save my wife." Prince said pleading.


"God willing, sir. I'll try my best." Pat Prince's shoulder.


"Move the patient to the operating room." His order.


Isma's body was taken to the ICU. Prince waited outside with concern.


Since then, Bimo has been calling. But, Prince did not divert his concentration from the worry of waiting for Isma.


He didn't call anyone. He doesn't have time to do that. All he felt and thought at this moment was concern for his wife and children.


One hour…


Two hours…


The doctor finally came out of the room. Prince stood up and approached him.


"Doctor, how is my wife doing."


"God is still saving wives and children, Prince sir." He patted Prince on the shoulder.


The doctor sat down next to Prince. He helped Prince get back up from his bow.


"Sir Prince, let me check your ankles as well as your forehead." Doctor Say.


"I want to see my wife first, Doctor."


"Your wife is being prepared to be moved into her room."


"I'll check my wounds after I see my wife." Rigorously.


Some of the sisters came out of the operating room by pushing Isma's trolley to move into the VIP ward.


Isma is still unconscious. Her clothes have been replaced with hospital clothes, except for her hijab which still remains the same. Isma's entire body was completely covered up to Isma's neck.


Seeing that Prince was a little relieved. She kissed Isma. And when Isma was taken to his room, Prince was taken by the doctor to the general practitioner's room.


Upon arrival, Prince performed an X ray on his ankle. And right, Prince's ankle is swollen.


The doctor bandaged his ankle with a bandage after applying the medicine. The doctor also stitched a wound to Prince's forehead after cleaning up the remains of blood droplets on his forehead and left cheek.


After being treated, Prince headed straight to Isma's room with the help of the nurse pushing his wheelchair.


"Thank you, Sister." Prince said as he arrived in front of Isma's room.


Then he'll be right in. Isma tearfully looked at her husband who was now running his own wheelchair with his hands.


"Darling... does it still hurt?" Prince's question gently stroked Isma's cheek.


Isma shook her head and continued to cry. This made Prince worried. Trudgingly he got up from his wheelchair and finally sat down on Isma's bedside.


He held Isma's hand with his left. And his right hand wiped away the tears on Isma's cheek.


"Excuse me.." Lose his body next to Isma.


Isma's hands were tightly coiled around her husband's neck. He's still crying.


"Darling.." Prince said.


Slowly he touched the button on the left side of Isma's bed. Until the bed moves to form a backrest. Isma could freely lean back while continuing to hug Prince.


"Adek was afraid." She was in Prince's arms.


"Mas is here. Mas's not going anywhere." stroked Isma's back gently.


"The embrace is tighter. I don't want to lose you." His pocket while crying.


Prince arranged his position. He ruled out the pain in his ankle. He comfortably lay down beside Isma, then carried Isma in his arms.


Isma's big belly touched Prince's. And at that moment Prince felt a kick from inside Isma's stomach.


"The children seem to protest, because the father hugged the mother too tightly." Prince.


Isma did not answer. He further immersed his body in the Prince's embrace.


"Sweetly calm. Don't be afraid, everything's fine. Our kids are great too. They're fine in here." Touching Isma's stomach surface.


One kick back felt. This made Isma's cry even louder.


"Darling... does the baby kick hurt baby?" Prince was worried.


Isma shook her head strongly. He's getting his arms tight. And back the baby they kicked again. However, the kick this time made Isma smile in her tears. And Prince understood why Isma was crying.


"Honey happy, because the kids defend well?" Ask Prince.


Isma nodded strongly in the Prince's arms. A smile bloomed on Prince's lips. A warm hug was again given to his wife and children.


How grateful they are, because God is still protecting them. God saved Isma's womb and gave Isma the strength to endure, even though a lot of blood was coming out of her body.


If God wills, then nothing is impossible for him. It is easy for Allah to do what He wills and to whom He wills.


SERIATE


Hay Hay Reader. . .


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