# Chapter 1
(Nisa's POV) She had achieved an impressive string of accomplishments, starting out as a startup entrepreneur from scratch without any family privilege. She came from a broken home in elementary school, and even her love life had only finally turned in her favor this year. That was the story of Sis Nayla. She was always so calm when meeting anyone. She was a little quiet, though she became somewhat chatty once she got close to someone. She cared deeply about many people and was well known in her community, although I knew some people didn't like her because Sis Nayla walked a neutral path—the honest one. But Sis Nayla was truly humble and patient. She also didn't share much about her life. The sweetness of her smile and the calmness of her face always seemed to tell anyone who saw her that everything in her life was perfectly fine, even though those of us watching her often felt sorry for her.
That lucky man eventually met Sis Nayla, my tough neighbor. Yes, his name was Habibi, a grown man who had just entered married life with Sis Nayla at the end of this year. I was incredibly jealous of their love story, but I was also happy for them because that kindhearted woman had finally been matched with someone worthy of her.
Habibi was a property entrepreneur who had once worked with Sis Nayla's older brother, Mr. Raffi. Their meeting was completely unexpected. While surveying a site, Sis Nayla was taking care of her nephew, Aufar, the son of Mr. Raffi and Ms. Bella. That's where their unexpected meeting happened, and they fell in love at first sight. Luck was on both their sides too, until they finally got married today.
(Nayla's POV) "Nayla..." Dad called to me. "Yes, Dad?" "Come here for a minute, sweetheart. Dad wants to talk to you." "Yes, Dad? What's up?" "Dad always prays that you'll find a match soon, so he can be at peace, sweetheart." "Yes, Dad. Pray for Nay too, so she'll be guided to the right match." "I always pray for you, Nayla. Yesterday, when Dad went back to his hometown, I asked Aunt Marni, my younger sister, about a possible match for you. She said there was someone who was still related to our family. Mr. Syukur's child had just gotten married. Dad met Mr. Syukur, but it was too late. If only Dad had gone home sooner, you might already be married to his child." "Hehe. That just means we weren't meant to be, Dad. Besides, Nay's already been praying too. I'll let Allah give me what's best. The most important thing right now is for you to recover. Then we'll hold Nayla's wedding, okay, Dad?" "With whom, sweetheart?" "With Nayla's match, Dad. Someone kind, devout, loyal, faithful, financially secure, and handsome too. Maybe he hasn't arrived today, but who knows? Maybe Allah will send him to Nayla tomorrow, and then we'll get married. Hehe." I said it to comfort both Dad and myself.
My name is Nayla, and I've been alive in this world for almost twenty-eight years, hehe. Of course I mean in this world, not the afterlife. Looking at my current age, I really should already be married with children, like my friends around the same age. But fate doesn't always turn out ideally. I don't know why I haven't reached that point yet.
(Nisa's POV) Watching Sis Nayla remain strong as she faced whatever fate brought her, I felt deeply inspired by her life. I often tried to get close to her and learn more about her story. But Sis Nayla had very little free time, and she was also the kind of woman who kept her life story tightly sealed away from everyone around her.
All I learned from her was that she was a calm, serene woman with a simple way of carrying herself.
(Nayla's POV) "Sis Nayla!" Nisa called to me. "Hi, gorgeous Nisa," I replied, hurrying along. "Where are you going, Sis?" "I'm heading to the boutique, Nisa." "Aww! I wanted to chat with you, sis. Hehe." "Some other time, okay, gorgeous? How about when I get back from the boutique? After I take care of my customer, I'll come back and treat you to ice cream. How does that sound?" "Yay, I'm in! I'll wait for you, sis." "Sounds good, gorgeous. I'm heading out now." "Be careful on the way, sis." "Got it! Assalamualaikum." "Walaikumsalam." I hurried toward the bus stop near my house because I already had an appointment with a customer.
That beautiful twenty-year-old girl was named Nisa. She was an only child whose mother had died a year ago, and she supported herself by selling the handicrafts she made. She was incredibly creative, and I often found myself admiring her. She seemed innocent, as if she'd never dated anyone, because Nisa came from a religious family. Her polite way of speaking and graceful manners made me care for her. I often thought of her as my own little sister.