Selebgram Insaf For The Solehah
Chapter 64

The first two-hour bell rang. Signs of changing one subject to another. Currently, Safa had just finished teaching in the first two hours. He returned to the teachers' office. And will return to another class in the last hour before the break bell, then connect another hour after the break.

That is the time division of a teacher. Uncertain within four hours of the lesson he will teach in two classes at once. Because of course there will be one maple that only gets one hour of lessons every meeting.

He had not yet approached the door. His steps had stopped, because he heard the sound of television in the office. Where currently the television is airing a talk show starring her own husband.

There he usually did not dare to enter. Because it feels so awkward. Not to mention, some teachers would rush to change the channel when they learned of Safa. Yes, just respect. Not to mention the last few days her husband was becoming a trending topic.

"Life is not to be guessed. But as a play in my own life. I have the choice to go through this path of life. And, I'm grateful. Among the thorns of the thickets of life. I still found something beautiful. Desperate to return to the straight path."

Afin's voice touched the people in the studio. Likewise with Safa who was still standing, sticking her back to the office wall while hugging the textbook.

"Wooow..." The host's eyes sparkled.

"It's not easy there either, Mom. There is a shame in returning to goodness. But, on the sidelines of doubts to change. My mother's prayer was answered. I was given a clear-hearted angel who was very helpful in my hijrah process."

"MashaAllah –" he murmured.

"Perhaps, the crowd had blasphemed him before. But trust me. She's my loving wife. Because of her as well, my changes in living life have become more and more significant. He is not just a teacher to his students. But for me too. Teacher who doesn't patronize..."

Safa's smile puffed up shyly. Even if it is just his voice. But it was enough to make his heart beat. One other hand rubbed the stomach that began to pulsate.The first smooth movement he felt.

"Allahu Akbar..." Safa was moved by that.

"Waaaah. Listen, his wife is two-bodied. Really?" Ask excited.

From that question Safa awaits. Will her husband answer honestly.

"Yes. just pray. Afin junior will be launching." The man laughed without any burden.

"Well, what a look at this father-to-be...."

"Haha." Afin was still laughing. Because he is happy now.

"Cong, Fin. May healthy always be. For the mother and her child. Blah. blah. blah..."

The show's still going on. Safa also survived. Stay by the office door. Until another teacher shows up.

"Safa Foundation!" Call him a little surprised because suddenly there was someone there.

"Eh, yes Ust!" frankly Safa was the same, surprised.

"Whenever here? Oh my God I was shocked." The thirty-seven-year-old woman chuckled.

"No papa, Ust. Ustazah's going to the eleventh grade?"

The woman with the jumbo rectangular hijab nodded.

"But before, I would like to ask. This is because of the TV show. Ustadzah's really pregnant?" He asked while holding onto Safa's arm.

"Alhamdulillah, yes Ust."

"Alhamdulillah... Congratulations, Ust. How many months?"

"Place four," Safa replied with sparkling eyes.

"MashaAllah...." The woman touched Safa's stomach which if observed was a little distended. "Allahs... God.. This is the artist's child."

"Ustadzah Ulfah can do it." Safa.

"Oh, really."

"Assalamualaikum –" another teacher greeted the two. Which they directly answer.

"Ust, know? Ustazah Safa is pregnant, you see."

"Well, Ust?"

"Alhamdulillah. Yes, Ustadz Eka."

"Alhamdulillah... Barakallah. May you always be healthy, mother and baby."

"Aamiin...." Safa responded with pleasure. And from those two guys. Added some other teachers. Who congratulated him.

Now almost the entire teacher room. Learn about Safa's pregnancy. A man with a thin beard was also smiling thinly said hamdalah.

🌸🌸🌸

The sky outside is dark. At this time, Safa was alone in her house because her father and mother were waiting for Isya in the mosque. While Qonni was having an event at his friend's house since Ba'da Ashar earlier.

The woman who wrapped her body with the face was laying on a crater. Continuing reading for the sake of his target for Khatam Al Quran seven times this month.

A motor sound was heard. The words stopped immediately. He knows the sound of the motor.

Correct guess. The man came alone with something.

The woman closed the curtains of her room. He was silent behind the window. Before long, the sound of footsteps that were still heard from where he stood was getting closer to the end with the sound of knocking on the door interspersed with greetings.

Rumi's delicate voice seemed to make Safa unable to move. Especially at home there is no one.

"Assalamualaikum, Uncle–"

"Valayam warahmatullah..." Safa replied with a murmur of her lips. He did not dare to go out. It still feels stiff with the man from the beginning Rumi knows his feelings first.

Not long after, the sound of the car was heard. Safa returned to the curtains. It was her husband's car, then it shut it down. Safa released her mucus. And replace with an instant hijab syar'i color moca.

–––

In front of the house...

Rumi curled her lips. Welcome someone who just got out of the matic car.

"Assalamualaikum–" Afin greeted while removing the hat he was wearing. Then she pulled her hair back.

"Walaikumsalam warahmatullah, Brother." Rumi stepped forward to the lips of the terrace. Welcoming Safa's newly arrived husband.

"Who from earlier?"

"New, Kok," he answered.

Afin looked at the man wearing a material trouser suit in a Nevy-colored shirt and then at the black jacket lid from top to bottom. He then glanced at the door that was still closed.

"No one's home, right?" He asked, as he walked past Rumi.

"Perhaps, Brother. You see, I knocked from earlier there was nothing to turn," replied Rumi as it is.

"usually anyway, the same father Mother in the Mosque at this hour. Maybe Safa's with Qonni too." Afin himself tried to press the door handle, and the door was unlocked.

"Anu, sorry. I want to leave this alone–" said Rumi. Afin looked back again. Not to open the door. "It's from Abi, but it's only been in between..."

"Oh–" Afin received the package.

"It's morning straight here. But I say there's a morning meeting, so it's usually right to go home" said the man who still carries his backpack. "By Java," he continued.

I don't know why he felt awkward about Afin. Maybe because of the man's look. Which according to him was different from the time of the meeting first. now like unfriendly.

Afin smiled thinly. "Thank you, yeah."

"Together, Brother."

I want to sit. But, after knowing he was a man who had liked Safa. It feels bad if he's been here for a long time. –in Afin.

"Yes, Brother. I'll be right away, ya–"

Good to know yourself. –inya while smiling wider. "Yes, thank you again."

"Greet Uncle to Aunt."

"Yes, it will be conveyed. Beware at jalan– greetings for Ustadz Irsyad."

"Walaikumsalam warahmatullah, I will convey." Rumi flipped her body after shaking hands with Afin and got back on her bike.

"Can it come out?" Afin asked worried that his car was blocking the door.

"Could, really," replied Rumi as he turned back his motorbike. Take a position to rotate and exit the yard of that house.

After Rumi's motorbike disappears from view. Afin sighed, along with that also the door of the house opened. The man looked back.

"Bang–" Safa greeted with her soft voice then grabbed her husband's hand, kiss the hand.

"You were inside?" Ask Afin. Safa nodded as well.

"There's no one at home, so I don't dare to open the door" he added.

"Why don't you dare open the door?"

"Yes, his Sariat is like that. Moreover, Safa is married."

"The curtain of his heart is still rustling –"

"Why did you say that?" Safa clasped her husband's hand tightly suddenly sad. Afin exhaled, then kissed his wife on the forehead.

"So, yuk. I'm sultry.." take him while holding his wife's hand into the house. The bablas got to their room. Surely after putting the parcel from Rumi earlier on the living room table.