When Bamson had returned, two small things had been found tucked inside his sweater.
The traffic light turned red, and the car slowed to a stop.
Jeon.J glanced at Minji.
At his question, Zoya—who had been staring outside the window the entire time—suddenly looked toward the rearview mirror.
Jeon.J was already looking at her through it.
But the coldness in his eyes hadn't disappeared.
Despite Zoya refusing, Jeon.J had insisted on dropping her at Ji-Ho restaurant in Minji's car.
The more Zoya tried to stay away from him, the more circumstances seemed to push them face-to-face again.
Flashback — Living Room Conversation
"Oh… we thought you had a boyfriend," Teahun said lightly. And those matching bracelets belonged to both of you."
Zoya looked at him, then replied simply,
"In my religion, we don't have boyfriends. Only husbands."
"You mean you marry directly… without even knowing each other?" Teahun asked in surprise.
"Yes, we marry," Zoya said calmly. But in my religion, there are certain boundaries. Within those boundaries, a couple learns about each other… and then marriage happens."
She paused softly.
"And in nikah, she smiles softly.
There are so many blessings that love often grows between the couple afterward."
"But what if love doesn't grow?" Hosu asked curiously.
At Hosu's question, Zoya smiled faintly, though there was a quiet sadness in it.
"Love is a gift from Allah," she said gently. But if one of the two doesn't value it… Then, even after many efforts, continuing the relationship can become very difficult."
She lowered her eyes slightly before continuing.
"In that case, separation is also an option—but only after many attempts to make the relationship work. First, the couple is encouraged to try their best to stay together."
"What if one person doesn't want to separate?" Jinhun asked.
Zoya looked at all of them with the same soft, slightly sad smile.
For a moment, if someone paid close attention, it could be felt clearly—
Under the living room ceiling stood people of
different colors,
Different cultures
and ways of life.
Different values.
Different worlds.
"If the husband wants to continue," Zoya explained gently," but the wife truly cannot stay despite trying… then the woman has the option ofkhula." At this word, her heart beat fast.
"What Khula?" Yomin asked
She paused for a moment, noticing their confused expressions.
"Khula means a woman has the right to ask for a separation," she added softly."It is a respectful and lawful way for a wife to end the marriage if the relationship becomes impossible for her to continue."
Her voice remained calm, thoughtful.
"But it is never the first step," she continued."Before that, both husband and wife are encouraged to try—through patience, understanding, even family mediation—to save the marriage."
She looked at them with quiet sincerity.
"Separation is allowed… but reconciliation is always preferred first."
Hosu frowned slightly, still thinking.
"But what if it's the other way around?" he asked."What if the husband feels the marriage isn't working… but the wife doesn't want to separate?"
For a moment, the room grew quiet.
Zoya took a slow breath before answering.
She said gently, "A man is also expected to try his best to make the marriage work first. Patience and responsibility are very important."
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
"But if the relationship truly cannot work, and separation would hurt the wife deeply… Islam also allows another option."
The boys leaned forward slightly, curious.
"A man is allowed to marry a second wife," Zoya said calmly.
The surprise on their faces was immediate.
"But it isn't something simple or casual," she added quickly."It comes with very strict conditions."
She continued softly,
"The husband must treat both wives with complete justice—emotionally, financially, and socially. He must provide equally for them and never show unfairness."
Zoya's voice remained steady.
"In fact, the Quran warns that if a man fears he cannot be fair between them, then he should marry only one."
She glanced around the room.
"So the permission exists… but it also carries a very heavy responsibility."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Under the same living-room ceiling stood people from different cultures and different ways of life—each quietly trying to understand the other's world.
"Oh… you mean two marriages?" Yomin said slowly, trying to process it.
Before Zoya could answer, Sophia suddenly leaned forward.
"Not two," she blurted out."Four."
The entire room froze.
"What?!" Hosu almost choked.
Teahun stared at her."Wait… how do you know that?"
Sophia shrugged lightly.
"I studied a little about Islam in my theology class," she said."And some of our family friends are Muslim too, so I've heard about these things before."
She glanced toward Zoya with a small, friendly smile.
"So… I know a little."
"FOUR?" Teahun's eyes widened."Wait—like… four wives at the same time?"
Jinhun blinked several times, clearly trying to decide if she was joking.
Even Jinhun sat up straighter.
For a moment, everyone just stared at Sophia.
Then, almost in perfect sync, their heads slowly turned toward Zoya.
Zoya sighed softly, realizing the explanation had now become unavoidable.
"Yes," she said calmly."In Islam, a man is allowed to marry up to four wives."
The shock on their faces only deepened.
"But there is a reason behind it," she added gently.
She folded her hands together as she spoke.
"Historically, after wars in early Muslim societies, many women were left widowed and without support. Allowing responsible men to marry more than one wife was a way to protect and support them, instead of leaving them alone without security."
The room slowly grew quieter.
"But it isn't something encouraged just for desire," Zoya continued."There are very strict conditions."
She looked at them seriously now.
"A man must treat every wife with complete justice—financially, emotionally, and socially."
Her voice softened.
"If he cannot be fair, then Islam clearly says he should marry only one."
The earlier humor faded, replaced by thoughtful silence.
Different cultures.
Different beliefs.
Yet in that living room, everyone seemed to be learning a little more about each other's worlds.
"And if a man has more than one wife…" Teahun suddenly asked, curiosity lighting up his face."How many kids would they have?"
At his question, everyone immediately turned toward Zoya.
Zoya narrowed her eyes at him.
"First, tell me something," she said calmly. "If you got married, how many children would you want?"
Teahun shrugged casually.
"I think two are already more than enough."
Zoya shook her head slightly.
"That's you deciding," she said. "But children are a blessing from Allah—one of His gifts. If Allah wants to give more, He gives more."
Teahun blinked.
"Wait… what?" He stared at her."You mean if Allah decided to give me ten children… I'd actually have ten kids?"
Zoya lifted her shoulders lightly.
"There could be even more than ten."
For a second, the room went silent.
Then Teahun suddenly jumped to his feet dramatically—only to drop back onto the sofa as if he had fainted.
"No! Don't say that, Zoya!" he groaned, clutching his head. "How am I supposed to remember ten names?!"
The room exploded with laughter.
Teahun leaned his head back against the sofa dramatically, staring at the ceiling as if he had already begun the impossible task of memorizing them.
"Maybe I should start making a list from now…" he muttered.
That only made everyone laugh even harder.
Even Zoya couldn't help smiling slightly.
While everyone was still laughing, she quietly picked up her bag and gave Minji a small signal to leave.
Minji had just started to stand when Jeon.J spoke.
"I'll come with you."
Zoya immediately looked at him.
Her eyes clearly asked the question she didn't say aloud:
"Why are you doing this?"
But Jeon.J avoided her gaze completely.
Without answering, he simply took the car keys from Minji's hand and started walking toward the door.
Just as he reached it—
Zoya's voice stopped him.
"Minji… can't you drop me off alone?"
Minji looked confused.
"What's the problem with Jeon.J going?"
Zoya lowered her voice slightly.
"You saw what happened earlier," she said, referring to the evening incident."I really can't afford more problems."
Minji waved her hand casually.
"Nothing like that will happen again. Relax."
She walked toward Hana to tell her they were leaving.
Zoya watched her helplessly.
Then she turned toward the door—
and suddenly found Jeon.J standing right in front of her.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Zoya quickly looked away and walked past him.
Near the wall, on a small side table, she noticed her scarf lying there.
Without saying a word, she picked it up and draped it over her arm before walking outside.
Behind her, Jeon.J watched every small movement.
His jaw tightened slightly.
By the time he stepped outside, she was already standing beside Minji's car.
He unlocked it.
She opened the back door and was about to sit down when his voice stopped her again.
"When you didn't have your scarf earlier," he said quietly, "you had to wear the coat and cap."
He glanced at the scarf in her hand.
"Now that you have it… You can change."
Zoya settled calmly into the seat.
"I'm comfortable like this."
Something in her answer seemed to ignite him.
Jeon.J slammed the car door shut with unnecessary force.
Zoya flinched slightly at the sound.
At that exact moment, Minji climbed into the car.
"Hey!" she complained. "Don't torture my car! My dad won't buy me another one. I'll have to earn it myself!"
She had clearly heard the door slam.
Then suddenly she remembered something.
"Oh! Zoya, you never gave us the bracelets you made," Minji said. "We could wear them as matching ones."
She turned toward the driver's seat.
"What do you think, Jeon.J?"
Jeon.J drove the car out of the gate and onto the quiet street before answering.
"Absolutely not."
His voice was cold.
"We'll buy our own matching ones."
Minji frowned.
"What's wrong with these?"
"They're cheap," he replied flatly.
"And I won't have my girlfriend wearing cheap things."
His tone remained cold as he turned the car.
Minji looked annoyed.
"You shouldn't say things like that. Love isn't about whether something is cheap or expensive. Since when did you start thinking like this?"
"It's nothing like that," Jeon.J said shortly, ending the conversation.
Silence filled the car.
Minji pulled out her phone and started scrolling.
In the back seat, Zoya quietly touched the two bracelet letters resting in her hand.
Her fingers moved gently over them.
A soft smile appeared on her lips.
Jeon.J watched her through the rearview mirror.
And suddenly he noticed something—
There was a quiet pain hidden inside that smile.
Zoya turned her gaze toward the window.
The world outside the moving car blurred into streaks of light and shadow. Watching the rushing scenery felt strangely comforting.
In her heart, she whispered.
Allah… You heard me, didn't you?
The way I tried to explain my faith… the way I tried to speak about my values through my religion.
Did I say it well, Allah?
Her eyes followed the passing lights as if she wanted to run alongside them, to disappear into that endless motion.
Allah… I'm always afraid of choosing the wrong words, she continued silently.
I'm not good with them at all.
So whenever I find myself in moments like this—tests I'm not prepared for—please help me choose the right words.
A small, quiet smile appeared on her lips as she kept watching the rushing night outside the window.
When Bamson had returned, two small things had been found tucked inside his sweater.
Jeon.J turned slightly toward Minji, guiding her attention back to his question.
Minji thought for a moment before answering.
"I'm not sure," she said slowly. "When Ruhi, Hana, Sophia, and I reached the hostel… Bamson was already with Jea."
She shrugged lightly, half lost in her own thoughts.
"Maybe one of your fans tried to deliver their love to you," she added absentmindedly.
The moment the words left her lips, Zoya suddenly began coughing.
"Hey—what happened? Are you okay?" Minji asked quickly.
"I'm fine… I'm fine," Zoya said, trying to steady her breathing.
"Do you need water?" Jeon.J asked, his eyes briefly shifting toward her.
Minji looked at Zoya, then at Jeon.J.
"Jeon.J, maybe we should stop somewhere and get her some water."
"I'm fine, Minji. Just… let's go," Zoya said quickly, a little too sharply.
"Are you sure?" Minji asked again.
This time, Zoya simply shot her a warning look.
Minji raised her hands slightly in surrender, but another thought crossed her mind.
"Oh—right. Zoya… did you see anyone putting something in Bamson's sweater?" because you were there.
"No. I didn't see anything," Zoya replied firmly.
Minji turned toward Jeon.J again.
"Then what exactly was in the sweater?"
Jeon.J's eyes darkened slightly as the memory returned.
The car slowed near the Han River on the other side of Ji-Ho, restaurant
White Bowl Kitchen, with the bright lights reflecting on the quiet water.
"A bracelet," he said.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
Zoya went completely still.
Jeon.J watched her through the rear-view mirror.
Her eyes widened instantly—fear and astonishment spreading across her face. She didn't even move.
"And… a letter," he added calmly. "Written in some language I couldn't recognize."
Zoya felt a strange lightness rise inside her chest—almost as if something invisible had lifted for a second.
But Jeon.J's next words sent a cold wave through her.
"Though… some words were in English."
Jeon.J noticed the way her eyes opened again—wider this time.
There was something in them now.
A silent plea.
As if her eyes were saying: No… don't say anything more.
But for some reason, Jeon.J found himself enjoying this strange little game.
What he didn't know was that this wasn't a game at all.
It was life.
"The words were strange," he continued casually. "So I searched them on Google."
Minji leaned forward slightly, curiosity lighting her face.
"What words?"
Jeon.J spoke slowly.
"Masal… Masa… Miran… Minar."
Silence filled the car.
Through the mirror, Jeon.J saw Zoya's eyes slowly drop.
As if those eyes had been guarding a secret for a long time—
And suddenly, that secret had begun to slip free.
To be continued....
Regards
ZK