Betting Love Above Destiny
70 Glory and Blessing are Not Bequeathed

"Did your brother call, son?" sheikhona asked Arafka.

"Today, Aba, God willing, tomorrow Izzat will arrive in Alhaysimi" said Rafka. Mas Izzat is the second son of the shaykhona, the future heir of Alhasyimi.

"Your mother will also arrive tomorrow, son. They will gather to attend your wedding.I hope Meidina will also be healthy soon." Nyai Syarifah's mother rubbed the back of Meidina's hand gently.

"God willing, aamiin" said Shaykhona who was also followed by all.

Seen then sheikhona sigh long while trying to spread both legs due to fatigue.

"Aba should get some rest. Aba must be very tired after a long trip," said Arafka who saw it carefully.

"Yes, son, you're right, I do feel a little dizzy. But I have to fulfill my duty" Kyai told her son.

"My engagement has improved, Aba, God willing, tomorrow I can go back to the foundation."

"Yes, but wait for instructions from the doctor first, son." Looks like Arafka nodded.

"Then I will go home first to rest" continued sheikhona.

"Please, Aba, I'd like to stay here to accompany our daughter-in-law" she told sheikhona.

"Umi also needs rest, ummi is also tired as, Aba," said Irfan quickly.

"but, Son ..."

"Umi don't worry, her friends here, not just friends, but also as brothers. They all took good care and loved Meidina" Arafka continued.

"Alhamdulillah," welcome kyai and bu nyai simultaneously. Ms. Nyai then turned to Davina, Nabila and Zaskia. "thank you, nduk all," he said gently.

The three also answered in unison with courtesy. "inggih, Miss Nyai."

"Zaskia's saying the same thing, if you want to stay here?" ask Bu nyai again to Zaskia.

"Already, Aunt."

"Yes, we're saying goodbye." Ms. Nyai Syarifah momentarily embraced Meidina and gave her wishes for health care. All of them took the shaykhona and nyai until they came out the door of the room. While Irfan Arafka Wafdan continues to deliver the aba and uminya until it gets into the car.

In Meidina's nursery. Suddenly the atmosphere became silent, all silent, all as if they did not know what to say, after the fact about who Irfan Arafka Wafdan was revealed. Meidina was still sitting stuck in her original position, her head bowed deeply. In his mind was a great variety of thoughts, which could not be spoken. Zaskia was bowed to the mattress of the patient guard quietly. Nabila and Davina both stood glued to the edge of Meidina Shafa's bed.

Azmi and Nizam both stood leaning against the wall of the room with a bright look. Ustad Fadil let out a long sigh as he rubbed his face and sat down to throw his body onto the sofa beside the silent Ustadz Widad. "O Allah, O Rabbi." he cried out at the end of his thought, for all the truths that had just been revealed.

"Dek Rafka, our friend, who has been so close to us, who has been so courteous towards us, whom we have always called a younger brother, turns out to be the son of shaykhona, our teacher," he said softly with the view continues to glare.

"Yes, he's the one who respects us as seniors. Though we should be the ones to respect it" continued Ustadz Widad.

Elsewhere, "That means Rafka's my relative, so all this time I've liked my own relatives." Zaskia muttered softly.

"We've been very wrong about him so far, yes," said Nabila. Davina nodded with tears falling.

Azmi was seen rubbing her face many times. Nizam ali was heard sighing many times.

If that's how it felt by those who were there, who were Arafka's friends all along. So what was felt by Meidina, as the young man's future wife.

The door opened from the outside. The handsome Irfan Arafka Wafdan entered the room with his head lowered looking at the watch. The time marker at that time already showed the numbers 21-15. It's time to rest. Seeing the presence, simultaneously, Azmi and Nizam, as well as the Ustadz Widad and Fadil approached and both called. "Mas Rafka."

Mas, is a call of honor for the sons of kyai in Alhasyimi, from young sons, to married and untamed ones.

The handsome youth immediately stopped his steps and looked at all of them with astonished looks.

"What's up, this?"

"I'm sorry, Mas Rafka. Forgive us for everything all this time" said ustadz Fadil with a lowered gaze.

"For sure we have done a lot of mistakes and mischief. Forgive us," said Ustadz Widad.

"Other than me." Azmi and Nizam spoke almost simultaneously.

Seeing all that, Arafka sighed. His gaze swept over all the seniors who were now standing down politely before him, as santri's character to the kyai.

"Mas Widad, Mas Fadil, Mas Azmi and Mas Nizam." Arafka deliberately mentioned their names one by one with great emphasis, to show that what he was going to convey, it was important to be remembered continuously.

"I am still the old Irfan Arafka Wafdan, whom you know long ago."

"Yes, we know" said Fadil. "But, Mas Rafka is the son of our teacher. For us, everything related to the teacher, is also our teacher, let alone his son. We preach to God through our teachers. We are headed to God, through our teacher. If we do not appreciate everything related to our path to God, it means that we have made a grave mistake in God" continued Ustadz Senior.

"Maybe it's true, Mas Fadil. But I also understand one thing. In the past, I was also proud to be the son of Mr. Himawan, a successful wealthy businessman. But not necessarily I will be a successful entrepreneur too if I do not learn, and do not have skills in that, even though I am his son."

It seemed that everyone looked at each other with the words from Arafka.

"And I am also very proud, to be the son of Kyai Abdullah Umar Hashim, a sholih cleric, who led thousands of santri, who is very authoritative and respected. But can anyone guarantee that I will be like him, even if I am his son? Is the holiness, the glory, and the dominion passed down or passed down? Not "is it Mas?" Arafka stared intently at all the seniors, which now looks like they all look at each other.

"Aba is indeed a figure believed to be close to God, which is why he obtained the privilege that we all acknowledge. But I would not have immediately become like that if I had not learned to obey Allah. It was still not guaranteed to be the same as him," continued the handsome young man again.

Everyone is still silent. Silence in admiration for the young man's view that did not want to be respected at all just because he was his son.

"Maybe if Izzat, and his other sons, they deserve the respect you mean. Because they were born and raised in a very strong religious upbringing. They learned from childhood, imitating the piety of their parents since childhood. While I don't. I don't even know anything, and I can't do anything. If you want to honor me, just because I'm his son, I'm ashamed of myself."