Hot Couple: Inspiration From God (I Love You, Ustadz!)
Exams For Me

Honestly, it was in my mind that the child was really his son Mas Ilham. But I quickly brushed it off.

I can't be affected. Can't do. Mas Ilham could not commit adultery, even in a forced state would not be possible, let alone unintentionally.

But he is, after all, an ordinary man, Zahra, said a voice in my mind.

Duuuh. Satan, don't affect me. I recite the istighfar in the heart.

"Patience" whispered Mas Ilham.

I'm nodding. And beside me, Little Sister wrapped her hand on my shoulder. "Come, we're in."

"Oh, this is Mas Ilham's wife, huh?" ask the mother in white. "Beauty, yeah. Mia must be really happy to have a mother, continued like her Mama."

Oh, my heart is breaking. The boy's name is Mia. It must be Islamia, like her late mother's name, I thought. And I was considered a connecting mother for her.

Patience... Mas Ilham must have an explanation, Zahra. Even if all I hear is the truth, after all, it is a part of the past. But no, Mas Ilham took good care of himself from the deeds. He cannot commit adultery. As she explained earlier, Islamia was raped, and not pregnant because of Mas Ilham. I have to trust him. Must.

Unknowingly, I had already stepped my feet and had reached the front porch of Umi Windari's house. Apparently he was in the bathroom, cleaning the little one who had just popped in the diapers.

After settling with the little one, Umi Windari also quickly answered greetings from behind - so that the impression in the house there are people and guests do not rush away because they think the house is empty.

"I'm sorry, son," he said after opening the door. "Autom was busy in the back. Little pup."

Everyone is smiling. Then, according to Mbak Indah who kissed the respect of Umi Windari's hand and kissed the right cheek and kissed the left cheek, I did so, and we got acquainted. I remember the mother and the little boy were at our wedding reception. It still rings in my memory that the little Mia cried fussy because of the heat in the middle of the crowd. The beautiful little guy. She's cute and cute. His hair was long, fair skinned, there were dimples on his right cheek and left cheek. When she grows up, she will definitely be a beautiful girl, as beautiful as her late mother.

"Come, monggo come in," said Umi Windari let us into his house, then he excused to the kitchen to provide drinks and snacks, followed by Mbak Indah, he said, while the Muslim Mas busied himself with Mia.

And now, I'm just the two with Mas Ilham, sitting in the living room.

"What?" I turned back, my voice trembling.

"Is there anything you want to ask?"

I'm shaking. "I'd better wait for an explanation" I said.

"alright. But before I explain, I want to ask you a question first."

My eyes are back in the mirror. "What?" my many.

"What are you thinking now? Do you trust me, or...?"

This time I nodded. "I can't deny it, Mom," I said. "You don't want to be distracted by negative thoughts."

"You don't believe me?"

I don't know, but I'm shaking. "My heart wants to believe. Don't know why, I want to believe in you. And I tend to believe. I hope I'm right, Mas."

"Alhamdulillah."

"Em."

"But...."

"But what?"

"Why can't you trust me completely, like my faith in you who don't split one bit? Why?"