Pursuing My Husband's First Love
Destinies

"Innalilahi wa innailaihirojiun ...."

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"Zan's? Wake up! We rest first" said the Father shaking my body.

Eyes feel very heavy, it still feels like they want to be closed a little longer. The journey is just a little while but the Father has asked for rest again, even though previously we have rested for Ashar prayers.

"We pray Maghrib first!" bring Father.

I see around the rest area, still bright, the clock shows at 17:29 it is a new car running for a while. I followed the steps of the Father towards the mushola, took the ablution water and then prepared to wait for Maghrib prayer.

"Zan's? Which phone?" ask Father.

"She, Sir." When I saw the cell phone in the pants pocket turned out to be dead, because the battery ran out.

"Well, forgot to get tested, sir. Why, Sir?"

Father and Mr. Iwan looked at each other to hear my answer, the look on the face of the Father looked heavy. What was?

"So Mr. Maulana called the father, told him that ... if ..--"

"What if, sir?"

"Mba Mariam is suddenly critical and ...." I saw Mr. Iwan's hand touch the shoulder of the Father, their eyes gave each other codes.

"Mariam died, Zan."

"Mariam?" I asked to clarify, Father just nodded.

"Died!"

My words went into my ears but failed to get into my brain.

"Mariam ... died?" I murmured many times, it was hard to translate that sentence.

"Patience, Zan. We pray Maghrib first, then we turn around."

"I mean, Father? Mariam really died?" ask me again still with flat mimic.

Mr. Iwan and Mr. looked at each other again, their silence forced me to interpret their own expressions. He just patted me on the shoulder and left me.

"china ... Inna ... Inna ...." It's hard to say Tarji's words to Mariam, impossible.

I felt like my body was boneless, which broke not only my heart, but my soul had collapsed along with Mariam's departure. Time stopped as I could not believe this news. Suddenly nature was silent, leaving the sound of my own breathing and the sound of my heart beating irregularly.

"Mariam ...."

"Astaghfirullohaladzim."

I cupped my face with both hands, feeling how heavy my head was and the contents of my brain.

He came back to me and pulled out his cell phone.

"Your wife is worried, you can't be contacted, Zan," said the father.

"Medina?"

I accepted the flat object and attached it to the sense of hearing that was still vaguely functional.

"Hello?" lirih.

"Hello, Assalamualikum ... Yes Alloh, Mas, Medina is worried Mas Musa number can not be contacted, Mas all right, right?" The sound of Medina's voice was so worried at the end there, there was also the cry of Sabira that I had missed so much.

"Waalaikumsalam, sorry, Dek. The phone is dead" I replied floating.

Medina asked me how I was? If I may complain and complain to him, I want to say I am tired of being born and inward. I feel broken in body and soul. How can I forgive myself if bad things keep happening. Like the continuing domino effect, a single mistake is capable of destroying all without remaining.

"Mas ... Mas ... Moses ...!" Back Medina shouted my name, ah .. apparently I was daydreaming.

"Sorry, Deck. Is Sabira fussy?" my many.

"Don't worry about us, Mom. Sabira was fine, Medina was worried about Mas Musa. After hearing the news of Mba Mariam's suffering, Medina's entire body was limp, especially Mas Musa could not be contacted, Medina did not calm down, what happened, Mas? You said you were actually on your way home" said Medina Long, but my brain was unable to respond.

"Mas is fine, I'll tell you later" I replied as if.

I was so devastated that I couldn't think clearly. How can I calm Medina down when I'm broken.

"Mas ... the strong, well!" medina said to make me touched, at a time like this I believe she was hit, but she was still able to strengthen me.

"Yes, Deck. Maghrib prayer first, take care and Sabira well, wait for the mas to come home, yes!"

My tears spilled like a child asking for a balloon on his mother, no longer caring for other worshipers who participated in the father's prayer.

Rokaat by rokaat became the backrest for me to freely spill what had been held back. Grief, worry, guilt, disappointment, and all sorts of grievances were free to explode with my readings and prayers.

I have enjoyed every prostration with unparalleled comfort, I have never felt this artistry in my entire life.

After the greeting, I continue the prayer and full dhikr haru. The burden I could not reveal to anyone felt lifted by itself.

"I surrender to YOU, YA ALLOH. If this is indeed the best thing for Mariam, spread her way, ease her affairs, forgive all her sins, and accept all her charities."

"Give strength to my son Sabiru, who has never seen his mother, has never felt the warmth of her embrace, and has not felt the affection of a mother since birth, but must be separated in such a way. Give me a way to be able to accompany his growth and development, I beg of YOU Yes Alloh! Open the hearts of Mariam and Mas Faisal's parents."

"Give strength to the parents and all the Mariam family. I am willing to take all their anger and disappointment, I am sure that one day they will understand that everything that happens is far from my power and desire."

After the Maghrib prayer, Mr. Iwan immediately looked for the nearest toll exit and turned back. I just resigned and it felt floating, every series of events still felt like a dream.

Shadows the red face of Sabiru, as well as the innocent face of Octavia who must be an orphan. What a mess the children are, if I could definitely take care of them and Octavia was already considered my own son, however he was the bait that made Medina pregnant.

Almost 2 hours we have come back to this city full of surprises, where my life is completely turned upside down here. The car soon entered the block of Mariam's house which despite the night was still crowded by mourners.

My footsteps seemed to float and not retracing, following the steps of the Father approaching the front room which is now transformed into a sorrow room. Some of the neighbors were sitting reading the Quran for Mariam.

The Father met Mr. Maulana and Mas Faisal, offering condolences and prayers for Mariam. I stared at the figure lying unmarked with life, the white cloth covering Mariam's body entirely.

Ah, should I believe that that body figure is Mariam? Or is this just Mas Faisal's wits for me to really stay away?

Some of Mariam's residents, friends, and employees looked at me with dislike, whispering occasionally. Surprisingly, I enjoyed it all, I took it as a discount for me, less hurtful guilt and to make it easier for me to forgive myself.

I sat down near Mariam and began to recite the Quran for her.

Mariam ... are you really going?

Mariam's face flashed while crying in the hospital over the body of Mr. Biantara. At that moment my heart was crushed and broken in shreds. Now imagine her pale face that cries asking her soul mate with Mr. Biantara. My heart is completely out of shape, even to open the cover of Mariam's face I don't dare, I'm afraid to face reality.

'Yes Alloh ... Mariam, 'my mind cries and continues to whimper.

She wasn't just my ex-wife, she was my friend, my best friend, my boyfriend, even we were growing up together, so it seemed like she had to leave because of my mistakes.

It is possible that Mariam's true love is indeed Mr. Biantara, not her first love that always hurts her.

'Look, Mr. Bian! Mariam is so eager to be with you, even death is only able to separate you temporarily, I pray even though I once married Mariam, she will still mate with you, sir!'

'I will fight for Okta and Sabiru, my broken heart feels calm because Mariam is with you, sir! If you had a long life, sir, Ah ...!'

I dissolved in the shadow of Mr. Biantara's warm welcome, this house, to witness how you guys are actually very compatible. The sorrow I felt slowly melded with gratitude because Mariam had completely escaped her pain and fate, and also returned with the figure she had longed for.

This must be the best destiny.

Go, Mariam!

You want to be happy, right?

The night passed very slowly, I was satisfied to reminisce with all about them, all felt beautiful before the departure of Mr. Biantara.

The next morning Mariam's body was buried side by side with the late Mr. Biantara. Seeing the two lined up, I was happy and grateful.

Let me forgive myself Mariam, let me be happy with my version with Medina, Octavia, Sabira, and Sabiru.

Ms. Sri passed out many times, Mas Faisal's gaze looked very hateful to me, Mr. Maulana was disappointed but still maintained his dignity and dignity. Many citizens looked at me with angry and blasphemous looks, but I didn't care about any of it, Mar. Because I know, you've been really happy.

Goodbye, Mariam Maulida.

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Answering the questions of some readers, why from the beginning of the story seems to center on Mariam, because it is here Moses and Medina are telling the figure of Mariam who is gone.