The Best Choice

It's My Destiny

The rest of the night before Samira's wedding. Aslan was stunned in the living room, she lay half her body on the back of the sofa while cigarette smoke billowed slowly from her mouth. The smell of tobacco in the air slowly disappeared.

Aslan smiled lazily. "Truly marry her." He put the cigarette in his mouth. It felt good enough to satisfy his curiosity as to who the girl would be anchored to, not with her obviously not. But the pleasure is in every word debate with Samira. And every hump of his head and smile of embarrassment is his smile.

"Maybe I'm just in awe of him." Aslan rubbed his chin. The details of the journey he had passed were stretched out in his memory in the blink of an eye. Samira was the first woman to become his personal assistant. Patiently, he taught her how to do business and manage her resources to become a woman in the best place in her company.

Aslan smiled to himself. In a conversation with the girl who is now unable to fall asleep in the bridal room, Aslan was amazed at the series of words Samira gave the last time she worked with him.

Circumstances have reality.

Even though they go together.

But that's where they are.

Find intersection.

Aslan smiled again. Samira is sensitive in her way. And he had expected, his unusual behavior was a shield that kept him away from even though he had no chance to and now he began to know himself even better when not close.

Aslan yawned. The night breeze from the high window that opened seemed to invite him to date with delusion longer. Cold languishing. Tempting him to keep stirring up his baldness.

"It's my destiny and I have to go, cause I have to go."

It's my destiny and I have to go, because I have to go.

Aslan straightened her hair. That night he daydreams also how Samira's marriage in the absence of Samantha, the sad impression must have been pinned on him. The smile on the corner of his lips faded.

"Not good for singles." Aslan clutched the sofa cushion. She considers somehow Samantha is her helper now, thankfully there is her. Aslan smiled calmly until long his disheveled face and lost his spirit hue turned calm.

Aslan fell asleep and the moments she felt her life was much quieter at the end of the morning. Samira awoke with a heart that was like pedaling a bicycle from a hill to the weak. He touched his chest while looking at Samantha who was accompanying him. The girl who last night wore scarf to wrap her head around the cover of a famous fashion magazine is still asleep.

"I'm really getting married. O Allah. How do I let my cheeks not blush, my breath is normal. Sister Harviza will definitely be able to see a happy existence on my face later." Samira's panic broke when I looked at the dawn prayer, and she hurriedly sauntered into the bathroom after cutting the towel. He takes a proper shower unlike a bride who prepares herself for longer.

After taking a bath, Samira had thought about it carefully to arouse Samantha.

"Wake, Sam. Wakes up. It's dawn."

"Well!" Samantha gasped loudly, dazed as she looked right to left as if she had just returned from another world and was forced to cupper her cheeks with her cold hands.

Samantha gasped, and her sleepy eyes stared at Samira grimacing.

Samantha almost raced incessantly before sneezing that was so long as allergies alone. He shook his hands as Iqamah's voice sounded before brushing his nose.

"Well, pray" he said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, but you're hunting for a bath. If you need new clothes in my top closet, it's all new from the big boss first!" said Samira as she passed.

Samantha stood up, obeying Samira's words. He opened the top of the closet and looked up at the contents.

"Crazy, colorful all. Could be my cake girl." But his eyes and hands began to look for clothes that he deserved to wear for the wedding.

***

The morning sunlight infiltrated through the open window. The warm touch on Samira's back made her much calmer. There was a warmth that resembled a mother's embrace after she shivered in endless anxiety.

"Feed it, Sam. Come, hak!" Samantha held out the sum-sum porridge made by strong women who became chefs at Samira's wedding. The women were his own neighbors, the wives of Mustofa's neighbors who kindly took the time to help with the wedding of his beloved daughter.

"No nicotine?" ask Samira.

His hand that was painted with henna could not do much, scratching the neck that was bitten by mosquitoes was not allowed.

"No, Sam. Just relax like who you are." Samantha smiled, Her face does not point to pretenses, she feeds Samira like an old friend sincerely and occasionally a pair of full eyes unfortunately stare at Samira.

"Why did you see that?" asked Samira astonished while holding out a glass of warm tea, there was also a plastic straw there.

Samantha smiled.

"You should be happy later, smile for your future husband."

Samira smiled shyly, her cheeks blushing. "No way, I'm too embarrassed to smile at her and that's a shameful thing a woman can do." He shuddered in horror.

Samantha laughs. There-just the inner, deserved class Aslan fell in love with his warm-warm-nail attitude and different humor.

"But I swear, Samira. You should smile for Harviza!"

...*********...