Please Change my Destiny!
Is There a Way for Me to Repent?

The voices of the mosque that heard the chanting of the holy verse were heard again, indicating the time of prayer is soon. Late in the afternoon, Ashar prayers await.

Back he, father and brother were preparing to go to the mosque. With the clothes he wore last night and the holster wrapped around his plate.

Dihyan only brought one spare shirt, if he will still stay overnight again it is certain he will

using that shirt again or the second option borrow the same brother or father clothes or he does not wear clothes.

After the Ashar prayer, the father invited them to meet someone. A middle-aged man who

slightly older than father, with a slightly whitened beard and turban cloth wrapped around his shoulders. What he believed was that this man was acting as a priest during prayer.

“Assalamualaikum abah!” Greet dad first.

“Waalaikumussalam Warahmatullahi Westarakatuh.”

“Some healthy?” Continue father.

“Alhamdulillah,”

“This bah, someone wants to confide he said,” Dad immediately pushed my shoulder to get closer to abah.

Dihyan was confused, looking at father then at the man called abah.

Last look at the brother who actually sat folding legs. He looked back at me and then looked at his brother again, maybe looking for help.

Confused by this situation, confused with what became my cursing material. Where to start? And what to vent?

Too long silent, the father again sounded out, “Change, how the law is a wife who leaves the house and her husband?”

“A wife should not leave her house except with her husband's permission. If he does that, then

Allah will curse her and the angels will scold her again, even if her husband is a pious man.”

He does not include the pious, it is included in the golongang dzalim.

He was a husband who always tortured his wife even almost to kill, it was natural that his wife left just to save her life.

If for that reason does Rima still get the curse? It doesn't feel fair.

Isn't he the one who needs to be cursed?

He bowed.

Sentences from abah he did not accept.

Rima is innocent.

It was wrong.

Lirih heard a crying voice, Dihyan returned to crying after a long time.

During this time he began to busy working, and in half his time looking for the existence of Rima.

Do not forget to sacrifice yourself in the illusion, because the longing that shackles he does not want to admit.

Until tired of being a lullaby almost every night.

While the other three men only looked at Dihyan who was still loyal with sobs.

Looking at each other, looking for answers to all the unspoken questions.

Dad looked at my brother, thinking maybe he knew something he didn't know.

While the one in the gaze shook his head, as if saying he knew nothing.

In the mosque only three of them live, all worshipers have left the mosque back to their respective activities.

Shifting slightly closer to Dihyan, Abang now patted DIHyan's back softly.

Some of them were silent to each other, only talking with code.

"I, um,...." Dihyan started to let out a word, although the crying had not subsided completely.

"I'm wrong bah." His words are still stamped.

His shoulders were shaken to hold back the crying so as not to break.

"I'm the one who tortured him."

"I who slandered him killed my first wife." Trying to talk, hopefully after this the heart can be relieved.

"I also killed the child he was carrying." Now Diyan has gathered in front of Abah.

And the longer, the body lowered to the point of prostrating.

"I'm wrong."

"I am a sinner."

"I made my own son."

"He was pregnant when he fell down the stairs, that's my son. I'm pembvnvh."

"I'm pembvnvh."

Father and brother were flabbergasted to hear Dihyan's confession. Steady in each other.

The sound of Dihyan's cry disguised his speech, yet was clearly caught by their sense of hearing.

Is it that complicated?

His wife had to leave, he said, kidnapped.

While abah, stay calm by gently rubbing DIHyan's back.

Someone admitted his mistake was already incredible.

All were silent, listening to DIhyan who continued to mumble small mumbles accompanied by his cries.

"My wife is innocent."

"Don't curse him for leaving the house." Still prostrating in front of Abah.

My father and brother looked at each other again.

Dihyan asked who?

Abah's?

Not right, if his wife is in curse or not.

I want to laugh, but not on time.

The sound of crying had subsided, slowly re-enforcing the body while erasing the traces of his crybaby.

Brother moved, stood up and walked to the corner of the mosque. There is a cardboard containing mineral water intended for pilgrims.

Poking it at Dihyan who had just stopped crying. Must be thirsty.

Right, a glass of mineral water straight out.

Gradually thrusting the second glass, got the head bobble from Dihyan.

"Thank God if you want to confess one's sins. Even more grateful when he repents."

"A servant, if he sins, has a black spot in his heart, and if he repents and abandons the sin and has sinned, his heart is cleansed again".

"Is there a way for me to repent?" Dihyans.

"There's."

"Surely Allah SWT will accept the repentance of a servant as long as his breath has not reached his throat."

Continue reading the hadith about repentance for Diyan.

"What about my wife?"

"The law of the wife leaving the husband is obviously haram."

"Except some cases, including the safety of the wife."

"Does going with my wife mean falling talaq on her?" Dihyans.

Father and brother were only listeners to the man who was talking about it.

"What is the speech of the husband?"

Dihyan shook his head, remembering that he never said the word talak even if only in a dream.

He even desperately defended his household by begging his father to cancel his divorce.

"You can pick up your wife, she's still your wife."

Like getting an oasis in the desert, he wants to run to the source of water for that sake to wet the dry esophagus.

But don't run, the direction to the oasis, he doesn't know where.

Rima's shadow is not even visible.

Although inwardly determined to pick up Rima, and continue the marriage with the woman.

\==============

From some sources.

When you read this chapter, do not forget to leave souvenirs even if only one type of finger.

This chapter has a little fear. Fear of being wrong, fear of being negligent and fear of lying.

If there is an error or error in writing please reprimand Dinda with a sentence that remains polite and polite.

Don't be bullied let alone judged.

Because Dindapun is still just learning, and will continue to learn in order to present the best.

Although there are still many shortcomings.