Hijrah in the Way of God
Why would he be?

Rahma got out of the taxi after paying her fare to the man in blue who was the taxi driver.

With a bushel in her right hand, the woman wearing the pashmina syar'i veil walked towards the lobby of the small building in front of her.

When he arrived at the building he asked the location of the Director's room at the reception guard.

"Director's room is on the third floor, ma'am. At the far right." The receptionist named Vienna answered politely after asking Rahma's needs there. And it turns out the woman in front of him is his superior wife. He felt like he was no stranger to this woman. This woman has been here a few times, although not so often.

Rahma thanked Vienna before passing to the elevator not far from there. Not forgetting to throw a friendly smile at the young receptionist. Vienna smiled back. There are people like that in this world, he thought. Comparing it to someone.

***

Ting

The elevator doors opened, with a smile on them Rahma stepped towards her destination. Third floor on the right. He remembered the receptionist's answer. He continued to walk through the room by room until his net caught a room larger than the other room.

"This must be the room" he murmured. Read the information on the door first before entering.

"Assalamu'alaiu

His words stopped when he saw the scene in the room after opening the door. The woman covered her mouth with widened eyes as she just slid in her hand. For a moment it froze. The water of pain escaped his neutrality without his being able to prevent it.

And it turns out that the photo he got was the truth. The truth that he saw before his eyes at this moment.

"This grace is not what you see. I could tell, " shouted one of the people in the room as he turned around and ran towards the elevator again.

"Roman!"

***

"Why would he lie to me?" rahma muttered as she continued to cry. Squat hugging his knees in an elevator that is only filled with his own. "Why is he so happy?" The woman continued to cry shedding a sense of tightness on her chest. Annoyed and angry at the man she loves.

"What good has he been doing all this time pretending?"

"Am I too stupid to believe?"

Various conjectures in his brain. It grew even more sad as he recalled how the man had treated him first.

After the elevator door opened, Rahma wiped her tears. I don't want people to know that they just cried. The woman walked quickly out of the lobby regardless of the receptionist's greeting. It was really hard for him right now to talk.

Rahma's home. Not to go home to her husband. But to the house that his parents occupied.

For the time being, he was able to meet the man. He'll calm down here for a few days.

"Tumben you're here?" asked his father when he saw his only daughter sneaking in without a salutation.

"You enter the house first greetings," said the half-century-old man again. Not usually the daughter forgot to say greetings like this.

"Assalamu'alaikum" Rahma said softly almost inaudibly.

Ridwan and his wife both frowned. It seems like her daughter's mood is in a bad state.

"He why?" ask the wife sitting next to him. Fatimah, the mother of Rahma answered with a headband. Is it possible because of the miscarriage of that woman? thought.