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

The next day, the morning began to appear accompanied by the sun which gave rise to a slight heat radiance. I was ready in my teaching uniform and immediately said goodbye to Umi. I also told him that I and Ustadz Ilham had made an appointment later that afternoon.

Umi smiled cheerfully. He already knows he said. "Night Nak Ilham asked Abi for permission. So Abi and Umi already know."

I only developed a smile because again I saw a hopeful flush on Umi's face.

"He's a good guy. He knows how to appreciate a girl and respect both her parents. By asking Abi for permission, it means that Nak Ilham is well aware that you are Abi's responsibility and should not be invited to meet without your parents' knowledge."

Umi's words hit me hard. Such as insinuations that the way Mas Imam has been not in accordance with what should be. We met outside and never once asked Abi for permission.

Yeah, I realized, being an adult doesn't mean I'm free to go where and meet who without Abi's knowledge and permission. For, while I am not married, the responsibility for myself is one hundred percent still on Abi's shoulders. That is the fact of a daughter if she has people within the scope of her mahram. And I know, it's worth being grateful for. There are many people who do not have a father and mother, brother, or unmarried, and live single lives for themselves. I should be grateful.

Ah, Abi. If only he had never hurt my heart with his polygamy.

Never mind, Bil. The important thing is to fight for your future so that it does not suffer the same fate. Women should not be weak and yes when the husband wants to be double. Women have the right to speak up, even to refuse. Umi's past is not your future.

I taught two hours of lessons this morning. Half-eleven hours of my teaching time is over. I immediately rushed to a simple restaurant not far from the school where I was teaching, where I and Ustadz Ilham would take the time to meet. It only took me less than ten minutes to get to that restaurant if I took my bike off casually.

Inside, the atmosphere was still quiet because it was not yet lunchtime. While waiting, I ordered avocado juice, and read modern romance novels while Ustadz Ilham had not arrived. No term waiting is a boring job, as long as it uses that time for fun things. That's my principle.

Twenty minutes passed.

"Assalamua'laikum."

I spontaneously closed my book when I heard the greeting from the side, a familiar voice.

"Dasasasian, Ustadz. Please sit down."

Ustadz Ilham developed a smile. I only saw that smile for a day, but I liked it. He has a kind of genuine and pleasant smile.

And, I wanted to put my novel in a bag, but it didn't. I deliberately put the novel on the table and let Ustadz Ilham glance at the book. From the title alone it is clearly an adult novel, and, by no means a religious novel. I think all lovers of romance novels know exactly that such novels must present a hot story, at least a kissing scene, even more than that.

Ustadz Ilham glanced at the novel, then he smiled. "It's eleven o'clock. Want to order a meal now?" tanyakanya.

Again I was amazed, as if I could not believe the sight before me. Ustadz Ilham's very calm and relaxed conduct led me to say that: he really was like an ordinary man, not a pious man as presented in the film or soap opera, who was too guarded, he said, even talking did not dare to look. It's not like that. But still, he looked on with great politeness.

I nodded, confirming the question. He ordered rice with grilled fish and sweet iced tea, then asked me. I decided to choose the same order to make it more practical.

At that time I still keep the question in my heart - how did Ustadz Ilham respond when I said everything about me openly? Clearly?

"So, I guess, what do you want to talk about? I mean, what are we gonna screw up?"

My forehead frowned, then shook my head. "I don't know how to start this conversation" I said. I looked down, grabbed my novel and stared at its adult title.

Suddenly I feel clumsy. Cold sweat gradually began to drip from the pores of my skin. I suddenly lost the courage to say the words and questions I had been asking since last night, even to smile.

"Hello... Salsabila. Inspiration calls out."

The deg!

There was something that shook my heart when Ustadz Ilham said that. Inspiration calls.

Too deep.

Ustadz Ilham smiled at me again. "alright. Inspiration has come to you, Salsabila Azzahra bint Muhammad Siddiq."

Huh huh?

I gawked, realizing that something strange had infiltrated my heart. My cheeks were hot, never even this hot in front of Mas Imam.

What's wrong with me?

I hold a serie in my heart.

Actually, if I do it again, there's nothing wrong with the sentence. Ilham, Ustadz Ilham, he has come to see me, Salsabila Azzahra, and Muhammad Siddiq is my father's name. But something inside me, unable to reject the implied meaning of that short one-line sentence.

Relax, Salsabila. If you don't calm down, you won't even be able to ask him anything.

I took a deep breath. Luckily the waiter came over, brought sweet iced tea to our table, along with rice and breakfast. It takes a few minutes to wait for the grilled fish to ripen and be served.

"Maybe we should have a drink first, Ustadz."

Argha! I suddenly felt nervous.

"Emm.. can't you, don't call me ustadz?"

"Lo's? Why?" many spontaneous. "Aren't you.. oh, or do you want to be called Gus? Ilham Gus?"

"No. I mean another call. Don't take my status as an educator, or my status as a child."

Huh! He broke my heart. I tried hard to be calm and hide the red tinge that was about to adorn my cheeks. "Then, what should I call?"

"Emm... maybe with a mas call for example?"

My eyes and mouth are equally round. "Mass?"

"Yes, Inspiration, if you don't mind."

"Oh, yes, uh. well, Mas Ilham. Sure, I don't mind."

"Thank you" he said, smiling. "Well, now, can I call you Zahra?"

Really, he made my forehead wince. "Ustadz does not like..sorry, I mean, Mas Ilham does not like the name Salsabila? It means good. The spring of heaven."

"Good, really. It's really nice, though. But everyone calls you that."

So then? that question is not asked.

"I want to call you Zahra. Special call. Can you?"