The Love Of Bad Boy

Chapter 32 Shame

Deg.

Deg.

Deg. Zen held the left chest with his hands. He still couldn't believe what he had just said.

"Oh God...."

"O-olivia .. a-aku," said Zen, bowing his head while calling the name of the idol. One drop of his clear grain escaped unstoppably, Zen's shoulder was shaken softly. His heart suddenly cramped due to the rain of grace, ease and answers from all the chants of hope.

Perhaps this is the true meaning of an endeavor. When worship is filled with only the intention to reinforce desire, perhaps Zen will not find the meaning of taste. The pleasure of living with sincerity what God has arranged.

Zen remembered a famous tausiah ustadzah quote one day while stuck in traffic. "If the worship of lust, what will it be? not lillah. Focus on asking for guidance, but don't force God to grant."

"It turns out that God ..married because loving each other is a gift but loving someone we marry is an obligation. I just sincerely know Your way to try the second option but You instead give me a gift in cash" he murmured again.

Nuril's son then wiped off a trace of sadness there. He chose to say goodbye to both teachers and went straight home to convey the intention to crush the tether girl.

A perfect fluffy smile accompanies the Zen journey. Arriving at home he immediately ran into looking for the mother.

"Yes, Maamamaa!" exciting Zen.

Nuril who had just entered the house after coming from the back garden, was surprised to see her son running about to hug.

"Zen!" nuril chuckled as Zen smashed into her tightly hugging her.

"What's this, Zen?" nuril asked when she heard Zen as if she was crying.

"I've decided and chosen my ribs. He I have found, Ma," whispered Zen still slipping his head on his mother's shoulder.

Nuril. "Correct? no kidding!" he ensured.

Zen parsed a hug, both of his arms holding Nuril's shoulders. Let's say firmly even Zen.

"Alhamdulillah," said Nuril without feeling his tears.

"Who?" ask Mr. Ahmed who just came out of the room.

"Pa!" call Nuril, admonish the husband to no longer judge his son.

Zen turned his head, letting his father stare for long. "Olivia zereen." Zen called out a name steadily and firmly in front of Ahmed.

Nuril fiddled, she covered her mouth with both hands as if in disbelief with Zen's words.

"Olivia? Z-zen, it's Oliv, right? O-olivia?" nuril asked stammered, still in shock.

Zen once again nodded quickly while smiling. "Yes. Olivia's."

Mr. Ahmed was still standing in front of the room, slowly stepping towards where his son and wife were standing.

"Alhamdulillah. Congratulations, Son. You did it! Papa is proud of you, Zen!" ahmed patted his son's shoulder.

Zen glued. "Pa!"

No more conversations. Ahmed gave up, he let go of the ego. Ahmed hugged his youngest son, who had been estranged all along.

"I'm sorry, papa" said Ahmed. The three then hugged each other, fusing all feelings of longing.

"Thank you God. Thanks though. I'm sorry that I've had so many wounds in the hearts of my parents. I know their prayers never break for me" Zen's mind drizzled.

The day awaited also arrived. Zen chose to wear his usual suit when he was about to take the study. The difference this time, he added a robe as an outer. His heart rate was no longer regular while Oliv's residence was near. Not because of what he thought but the surprised face of the girl when she saw it later.

"Because of you, Liv," chuckles Zen imagining Olivia's pretty face. He hides a shy smile.

"Aren't you a Zen? from earlier mesem mesem mesem only," admonished Ahmed saw his son like a figure who often wari at red lights.

Ahmed chuckled at Zen. Sometimes restless until sitting unsettled, not infrequently smiling expands without cause.

The shalawat chants welcome the accompaniment of the Zen extended family. Both Zen's parents were standing right behind his son's teacher. Although Ustad Fikri asked Mr. Ahmed and Nuril to walk first, but Zen refused. He wanted to keep his teacher.

Zen was flanked by Zain after their parents. Slowly, the group sat in the magnificent room of Olivia's residence.

"Bismilbornrahmanirrahim. Before it starts ... Manten men, want nadzor first not? yes, the candidate taker," iftad Fikri open the word.

The laughter of the audience went on the air. They are waiting for the thrilling moment to happen because the two did not see each other before this event was held. Zen could not answer. He looked down embarrassed, especially in the intense face by Farhan who also smiled at him.

"Setdah, gini very yes. I'm going to bed again in ospek to sleep, "inner Zen. "Farhan, Farhan, why not smile. Who the hell is it," he added again.

"Yes already. Manten men shy. Which woman how? do you want to 3D first? ... Peeping, peeping, peeping," tease ustad Fikri again.

"Don't be long, ustadz. I tremble this," inner Zen, again impatiently.

The event then proceeds to the core. And come the moment awaited. Olivia was taken by Fikri's wife to the main room. The woman in a dark brown robe was also a long hijab that stuck out to make Zen fixated, even though his face was down.

Deg.

Deg.

Deg.

Olivia was sitting right next to Arief and was flanked by her teacher. If usually the nadzor habit or see prospective candidates is done before the sermon, in contrast to Zen and Olivia styles.

"Please, nadzor," said Ustad Fikri who mediated their meeting.

Olivia slowly raised her head, and a look was immediately fixed on the figure of the man in front.

One sec.

Two seconds.

"Zen!" lirih Olivia mentioned the name of someone she knew.

The atmosphere of the quiet room. It was as if they felt the happiness of both. Zen nodded faintly, a smile even though his chest was rumbling.

"Olivia!" call Zen this time straightforward.

Olivia looked towards Arief. His eyes glazed over, a smile was on its back despite being accompanied by a gaze asking for an answer. Mr. Arief nodded, a gentle swipe on the back made Olivia moved.

"Ikhla. I chose sami'na wa atho'na because I had no reason to refuse when my teacher asked for a foreign man who intended to propose. It is only to Allah that I ask for guidance on what he says when I say my candidate is a learner, a teacher, and a responsibility. That you? Zen?" olivia's inner self, she lowered her head to hide her subtle prank.

"Allahs. Is this how you do it?" olivia's mind doesn't bother to sholawat.

"Where? want to continue direct or postpone again. A week strong?" ustadz Fikri's voice back teasing make the atmosphere of haru turned into a happy cheer.

"Remember a contract!" said the women behind Olivia were starting to get boisterous.

"The supporter isn't kidding. Manten even mesam mesem only ... A zen? Olivia?" insist the teacher.

Zen and Olivia raised their heads. And again, this time only the smile that was painted on the faces of the two made the audience even more anxious by their timid behavior.

In Zen's mind, he still had one wedge. About a man who was there. "Who are you really?"

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