Hot Couple: Inspiration From God (I Love You, Ustadz!)
Saranghae

The day changed in the morning. The rays of the sun peeked out from the crevices of the leaves. The blue sky was bright without clouds. The mountain air is still cold. The typical fresh scent of the ground after being doused in the rain overnight faintly smelled.

I was just about to sit on the dining table chair when my phone clanked.

》 Assalamu'alaikum, Zahra.

And my face was beaming. Whatsapp from Ustadz Ilham this morning has greeted from my phone screen.

《 Wa'alaikumussalam, Mas Ilham.

》 Today is good, huh?

《 Yes. Full until noon.

》 Sip's. Spirit, yes, Zahraku.

Eh?

How did he confess to me, anyway? Ustadz gombal. I grinned wide.

《 Trims....

》 Saranghae....

《 ♡

Ah, I'm sure I won't run if I keep replying to whatsapp. I put my phone back in my bag and I started breakfast.

This morning, I taught the art of music in the eleventh grade. Take grades with exams playing musical instruments and singing. It was a beautiful morning and it made my spirit burn. My students are ready with enthusiasm soaring high above their heads.

"Adriana," call me.

The beautiful, petite young man who placed first on the class attendance list got up from his stool, with the guitar in his left hand, and also a sheet of lyric paper of the song that he will present in his right hand, then he handed the piece of paper to me.

Saranghae.

Well, lo? Whatisthis? My heart trembled when I saw that word on the title of the song Adriana was about to sing. I shake myself.

It's nothing, Bil. It's just a coincidence. This must not be my istiqharah answer. The time is itiqharah I have been given a clue?

"Mom?"

"Eh, huh? What's the matter, Adriana?"

"I'm ready. Can I sing now?"

"Oh, yes. Please, please, Adriana."

And, the song also melodious from the high voice of Adriana who managed to make my heart like a flower garden that was blooming. It's exquisite. Entertaining and reassuring.

"Saranghaea...." Adriana gives a love symbol from her fingers when the applause of her classmates accompanies her down from the pulpit of the hall.

More than that, the strange phenomenon that occurs next is at the time of school. My bike, which had never been in trouble all this time, knew the starter was stuck that afternoon. And the obstacle is that I can't handle it especially with the heels that I wear.

"Why, Mom?"

A student approached me in the parking lot. I know his face, although I don't know what his name is, but I know he's an IPS twelfth grader.

"Starter's jammed. Could you please be arrested, son?"

He nodded and immediately helped me, leaving my bike with ease until the engine roared back.

"Thank you, yeah. Thankfully there are you."

A sweet smile bloomed on the handsome, cute face of the boy. "Casual, Mom...." He swept away the imaginary dust on his left shoulder like a cool guy, making my eyes focus on the name listed there. "Ilham's coming, trouble is gone. That's me."

My heart frowns. I gave a smile as the shadow of Ustadz Ilham's soothing face flashed through my mind.

Saranghae....

With the sound of the horn ringing once, I left the school parking lot and planned to stop by the workshop. It's a big deal if I have to grab that bike every time I drive it. So yeah, that's it. It's time he got his service back.

Maybe I should go to Mas Imam's workshop. Talk to him about this statusless relationship. Where to take it? It should end with clarity and it will get better. If it cannot be together, that hope must be dashed as soon as possible. I must give myself a chance to make Umi happy.

Yeah, Umi wants to see me happy with the right person. And I want to make Umi happy with a sad marriage, and give her many grandchildren.

I put my bike across the asphalt. Not far from the school gate, Mas Imam's workshop was visible and I stopped the speed of my motorbike right in front of one of the mechanics there.

I smiled and got off my bike. "Actually want motor service. The starter is jammed, and the oil has long since been replaced. Yes, you want to meet Mas Imam too, so I stopped by here. There's a guy, right?"

Adi who immediately rode my motorbike immediately tested the starter that jammed it. "Mas Imam again to the barn, Ma'am," he said without turning his head. "Don't know what else to come back here. The guy didn't say what he was going to do back."

"Oh, okay."

Cellphone's ringing. There's a call coming in from Umi.

"Sir, the bike wants to be left or want to wait? Let me take you later."

I just shifted the menu to receive a call saying, "I'll wait, Di. Not long, right?"

"Ready, Ma'am. I don't know, yo."

I'm back in focus with my phone. "Assalamu'alaikum, Umi."

Umi answered my greetings from across there. "What are you, Nduk?"

"Attending the workshop for a moment, Mi. Service motor. The starter's jammed."

I heard Umi saying Istighfar on the other end of the phone. "In the Imam's workshop?"

"Yes, Mi. But if the motor service is real, really."

"Yes, Umi believes. But you're coming home soon, yeah."

"Yes, once the motor when it's finished serviced, when it will go straight home."

But from her voice and tone of speech, Umi sounded uneasy. "Kabari Umi keep going, yeah."

I'm astonished. What was? It's not usually Umi. "Yes, Mi. Why indeed? Any guests?"

"Not."

"Then?"

"Sir, Umi just. don't know why it feels so nervous. You.. ndak not want anything, right, meet the Imam?"

I have a lot of courage in my heart. Then take a deep breath. "Yes, Umi. Motorcycle service, really. All right, if there's a Imam, if you want to talk for a second."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just looking for reassurance, Umi," my voice lowered.

"What's it for, Nduk? No need, ." his voice stopped.

"Mi, just a certainty, if there isn't, if you want to end it in a good way."

But Umi doesn't sound happy. "The feeling of Umi is not good, yes, Nduk? Umi asked Abi to come after you, huh?"

"Lo's? Whynot? No need. Abi is busy at this hour."

"But Umi was worried. Don't know why, Umi's afraid something's going on."

"God, nothing will happen. Husnuzhan only, yes, Mi. When you go straight home. Assalamu'alaikum."

About twenty minutes passed after I hung up the phone, Mas Imam's car was stuck in an empty field beside his workshop. With a cheerful smile he greeted me. "The old lady didn't see you. Like me, Bil."

I just put on a smile.

"Motor service?"

"Yes, Mas. Talk to the Imam too."

"O yeah? What are you talking about?" He just put some motor parts, put them on the window and sat down in front of me.

I suddenly shrunk. But I have to talk about this. "About our relationship, Mas. Hows it? What's still...?"

"Nil...." He took a deep breath. "You know for yourself how our family is. Sorry, I can't marry you yet."

Bismillah. The Saranghae Ustadz Ilham. I nodded, without pain. "It's okay, Mom. But. I'm sorry, maybe. I'll receive a sermon from someone. I hope...."

He looks hurt.