USTADZ
52. Tomorrow Will Be Better

Ustadz Amar drove his car around with recklessness. He no longer cared about traffic signs. Some of the riders he almost raided swore a swearing, but he did not care and instead increased his speed. A red light flashed in front of him, and Ustadz Amar decided to break through. Unfortunately, a granny was seen crossing in front of there, making Ustadz Amar automatically slam the steering wheel and step on the brakes.

There were no casualties in the incident. It's just that the actions of Ustadz Amar cause traffic jams and angry calls from street users. The horn rang softly, some people even got out of the car and knocked on the glass of the Ustadz Amar car. Screaming to get him down. Meanwhile in his car, Ustadz Amar could only stare at the men blankly, until some patrolling policemen asked him to forcefully open the door.

This is where Ustadz Amar is. In the police interrogation room. A policeman kept asking questions of Ustadz Amar, but they were not being questioned at all. Ustadz Amar remained silent while giving a blank look.

A few minutes later, Syahla came with Anggika. He ran frantically towards the husband who was already sitting in the bars.

"Mas! Why why?" Syahla called out in panic "Sir! Why my husband?" ask some of the police who were there.

"Mother's husband caused riots on the highway, and he was uncooperative with the police. I suspect he's taking alcohol, or even illegal drugs, so we'll do a urine test first." Obviously a policeman.

"Sir, my husband can't! We're in trouble, but I'm sure my husband won't get drunk let alone take drugs!"

"Sorry ma'am, but we'll do it as per procedure. Please wait until the process is complete."

Shahla took a deep breath. Oh, my God, what else is this. What exactly happened to her husband?

"La," Anggika patted gently on Syahla's shoulder. "Pak Amar is battered,"

Syahla saw the face of Ustadz Amar after hearing the words Anggika. She choked because she realized her husband's face was blue. There was even fresh blood flowing at the corner of his lips. Obviously Syahla knew the injury was not from a car accident, but more like the result of a fight.

Syahla approached the prison cell where her husband was being held and she squatted down to line up her body with Ustadz Amar sitting on his back against the wall.

"Mas," Call Syahla. "Mas why?"

Ustadz Amar only glanced at Shahla at a glance, then he shook his head and looked away.

"Mas" Shahla's tears are back. "What's going on?"

Ustadz Amar is still flinching. He remained silent and bent his knees, hiding his face between his knees. Syahla breathed in frustration.

"Mas! Don't just shut up! Let's explain to the police! Tell them that you're not drunk, let alone on drugs!"

"Sorry Shahla," Ustadz Amar spoke with a face still face down. "I want to be alone,"

"Mass?" Syahla shook her head. "This is not the right time! You can go to jail if you stay quiet!"

"I need calm, Syahla!" Ustadz Amar said in a high tone, but he then realized it and lowered his head again. "I'm sorry, I'm getting carried away with emotions. Better now you go home. Aggika, please take Syahla out,"

Syahla was stunned to hear the snaps from her husband. She had never heard her husband say that to her. All this time, no matter what he did, Ustadz Amar never scolded him in a loud voice.

Ustadz Amar looked at his wife's departure with mixed feelings. There is guilt, sadness, and anger mixed into one. He desperately wanted to keep Shahla at his side, but on the other hand he was afraid that his actions or words would hurt his wife even more.

"I'm sorry" That's all he can say right now.

Staring at the carving of the cold prison floor, Ustadz Amar's mind glared. He recalled the words of Rama.

"Sir, as you know, that Shahla's been sleeping with me!"

"Conscious Amar" Ustadz Amar ruffled his hair in frustration. "The dog*n it must say carelessly, there's no way Syahla is." He turned back his face. I don't know, he knew he shouldn't just believe the words of Brother Rama, but why does his heart hurt?

...----------------...

Syahla and Anggika sat together in front of a supermarket seat not far from the police station. Anggika opened the bread pack and handed it to Shahla.

"Lo hasn't eaten yet, has he? At least it used to be stuffed in the stomach with bread,"

Shahla shook her head slowly. "I'm not hungry, nggi,"

"That's according to Lo. But Lo's hull is not," Anggika forcefully put the bread into Syahla's mouth. Shahla was about to refuse, but Anggika looked at her sharply. "Compose! Don't mop! Chew now!"

Forced, Shahla finally chewed the piece of bread.

Anggika breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the police station. "Gue sure Mr. Amar did not intend to yank Lo rich earlier. He must have a reason why. You're patient, yeah,"

Shahla lowered her head. Discussing the treatment of the husband makes his chest feel tight. "But why didn't he say anything to me? I'm his wife, I'll understand whatever it is. But why did he tell me to leave?"

"There must be a reason" Anggika embraced Syahla. "There must be something he can't talk about right now."

"What makes a husband unwilling to discuss it with his own wife? Shouldn't a husband and wife help each other? Why do I feel unregarded? Does she think I don't deserve to be a wife?"

"Ssttt..." Anggika hinted Syahla to be quiet. "Lo's already starting to digress. You should rest. There's still tomorrow. I'm sure tomorrow will be better than today."

Shahla leaned her head on Anggika. "What if there's no chance tomorrow? What if it's too late tomorrow?"

"Don't you believe in God's power? La, I do have different beliefs, Lo. But I once heard a beautiful phrase from your religion. That God will not burden a person but according to his ability. I believe you two will be able to face all of this, and will get a beautiful reply afterwards,"

Shahla closed her eyes listening to Anggika's explanation. He has been preaching a lot.

"Rabbanaa Aatinaa Min Ladunka Rahmatan Wa Hayyi' Lanaa Min Amrinaa Rashadaa. O our Lord, grant us mercy from Your side and make it easy for us to guide our affairs." Do'anya.