Who missed Layla and Jawwad's banter?🤭

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"Wallahi, Khaltu Asma'u is really worried about you. I just landed in Nigeria last night and she couldn't even let me rest for a minute until I agreed to come check up on you. Ya Jawwad, this sulking of yours is enough, isn't it? You should come home," she said softly, her gaze fixed on him as she spoke, her voice laced with distress. Jawwad let out a chuckle, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Without a word, they both stepped out of the minimart, the evening breeze brushing against their faces. Salma unlocked her car, and they began strolling toward it, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the quiet street.

"Salma," Jawwad finally said, his voice steady but low, calling her by name in a tone that suggested what he was about to say wasn't easy. He stopped beside the car. "I'll never go back to that house as long as Jhamal is in it. I can't stand being under the same roof as the man who caused her death... the man who took my fiancée away." His voice broke slightly, but he quickly regained his composure, a tightness forming in his chest as he finished.

Salma looked up at him, tilting her head as her expression soften. "Ya Jawwad..." she said quietly, her eyes filled with sympathy. She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully.

"I understand your pain. What Jhamal did—it's not something anyone can easily forgive. But life isn't in our control. Allah is the one who writes our fates. We may never understand why certain things happen, but we must be patient and accept what has been written for us. If we don't, the bitterness will eat us alive, and it'll never bring peace."

Jawwad looked at her, his eyes softening as he nodded. He appreciated her words, even if they didn't completely erase the storm raging within him. He let out a small sigh, a smile tugging at his lips again, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You know, I can't wait for the day you finally decide to settle down and get married. Maybe then, Khaltu Asma'u will stop worrying so much about you," she said, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Jawwad chuckled at her teasing, his smile a bit more genuine this time. "Yeah, we'll see about that," he muttered as he opened the car door for her, always the gentleman. "Drive safe, okay?"

"Don't worry, I will," Salma replied with a wink before slipping into the car. She waved at him as she drove off, leaving him standing there for a moment, watching her car disappear down the street.

Jawwad sighed deeply, turning on his heel to his car. He hopped in and started the ignition.

As he drove, his gaze instinctively wandered toward Laylah's house. He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath, the memory of Laylah's reaction when she saw him with Salma popping into his mind.

What did she think? he wondered.

Why did she look so irritated? It amused him, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

Maybe it was the way her eyes had flared with annoyance, or the way she tried to act like she didn't care when she clearly did.

His thoughts drifted to Laylah herself—that spoiled, disrespectful girl. She always rubbed him the wrong way. Her arrogance, the way she carried herself as if the world revolved around her, irritated him beyond reason.

And yet, he couldn't quite shake the image of her from his mind.

Why does she get under my skin so much? he asked himself, but quickly brushed the thought away, not wanting to dwell on it any longer.

He continued driving until he reached his gate, nodding at the gateman who quickly opened it for him. The car hummed to life as he parked it inside the compound, the sinking sun casting long shadows across the driveway.

He hurried inside, eager to freshen up. Maghrib prayer was approaching, and he needed to cleanse not only his body but also his mind, hoping the prayer would bring him some peace, if only for a moment.

When Laylah got home from the minimart, she headed straight to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

The size of her emotions felt too heavy to carry anymore, and as soon as she sat on her bed, the tears began to fall uncontrollably. Each sob shook her body, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a tight grip. She didn't even know why she was crying so hard, but the pain in her chest wouldn't stop.

With shaky hands, she grabbed her phone and quickly dialed Yasmin's number. Her fingers trembled as the phone rang, and when Yasmin picked up almost immediately, Laylah burst into even louder tears.

"Laylah?!" Yasmin's voice was filled with panic on the other end of the line. "Meh ya faru kuma? Why are you crying like this?"

Laylah tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. She only cried harder, feeling like her heart was being ripped apart. Yasmin's worry only increased as she tried to calm her down.

"Laylah, please, talk to me. What happened?" Yasmin asked again, her voice growing more concerned.

"It's... it's Jawwad," Laylah finally managed to choke out between her sobs.

Yasmin sighed heavily on the other end, clearly irritated but trying to stay patient. "Jawwad again? What did he do this time?" There was a sharpness in her tone, as if she was already tired of hearing about him.

"I... I saw him," Laylah stammered, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. "I saw him with another girl at the minimart... I think she's his girlfriend or something. They were laughing together."

Yasmin paused for a moment, and Laylah could almost feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "And? Why does that bother you, Laylah? You hate him, remember?"

Laylah felt a fresh wave of disturbance build up inside her. "I don't know! I mean, I've never even heard him laugh before. Not once! But with that stupid short girl, he was just... smiling and laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world!" Her voice was cracking, a combination of anger and confusion pouring out.

Yasmin sounded confused now. "Wait, wait... so you're upset because he laughed? Laylah, what is your business with who he laughs with? Do you... do you love him or something?"

The question caught Laylah off guard. She stammered, struggling to find the right words. "I... I don't know. I don't understand what's going on with me. I mean, I can't stand him. He's arrogant, dismissive, and he makes me feel so small. But... but I can't stop thinking about him. And now, after seeing him with that girl, it's like this whole other feeling is eating me up inside. I think I might actually... like him."

There was silence on the other end as Yasmin processed what Laylah had just said.

"Laylah," Yasmin finally spoke, her voice firm. "You're out of his league, and you know that, right? You're Laylah. He's nothing but an arrogant fool. Don't waste your time and emotions on someone like him."

"But I can't help it," Laylah whispered, her voice breaking. "Every time he dismisses me or makes me feel insignificant, it just makes me... I don't know... more drawn to him. It's so stupid, but I can't stop feeling this way."

Yasmin sighed again, this time more gently. "Laylah, this isn't healthy. You're letting his attitude mess with your head. You deserve someone who treats you with respect, not someone who makes you feel less than what you are. Think about it."

Laylah bit her lip, trying to hold back more tears. She knew Yasmin was right, but she didn't want to admit it. She couldn't explain this pull she felt toward Jawwad, no matter how cruel he was to her.

"Thanks, Yasmin," Laylah muttered, even though she didn't feel like the conversation had helped. Before Yasmin could respond, Laylah quickly ended the call, tossing her phone onto the bed beside her.

More tears flowed down her cheeks, but this time, she was too numb to feel anything. She sat there, staring at nothing, her mind a whirlpool of confusion and heartache.

Eventually, she dragged herself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. The coolness helped calm her down, if only slightly.

She performed ablution and returned to her room to pray Maghrib, hoping that maybe, through prayer, she could find some peace in this mess of emotions.

~~

Jawwad had just finished praying Maghrib when he coincidentally bumped into an old friend from his university days in Cyprus. As he stepped out of the mosque and started walking home, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Jawwad? Is that you?" The voice was filled with surprise and excitement.

Turning around, Jawwad saw Bilal, a friend he hadn't seen in years. They hadn't spoken since their days in Cyprus, and seeing him here, in this estate of all places, was unexpected.

"I haven't seen you in so long. Since Cyprus!" Bilal exclaimed as gave Jawwad a manly hug. There was an easy familiarity between them, despite the time that had passed.

Jawwad gave a small smile. "Yeah, it's been a while. I headed to the UK after that and did my master's there," he replied casually.

Bilal chuckled and shook his head. "I miss those university days, you know? Even though you were always the boring one. You never went clubbing or chased after girls like the rest of us." There was a teasing edge to his voice, but there was no malice behind it.

Jawwad chuckled, a soft sound that barely escaped his lips. "That wasn't really my scene," he said with a shrug, his tone as calm as ever.

"Still the same quiet, reserved guy, huh?" Bilal laughed, clapping Jawwad on the back. "Some things never change."

They started walking, talking about their university days, until Jawwad, curious, asked, "So, who did you come to see around here?"

Bilal laughed lightly, the sound carefree. "I came to greet my aunty first, but really, I'm here to see her daughter, Asma'u."

They were standing by Jawwad's house at that moment, and Bilal casually pointed toward Laylah's house.

Jawwad's heart skipped a beat, though he kept his face neutral. He didn't want to reveal the sudden jolt of surprise that hit him.

"You know them? Who's her daughter?" Jawwad asked, trying to keep his tone indifferent, though a small part of him was curious.

Bilal smirked, his eyes lighting up. "Her name's Asma'u like I said, but everyone calls her Laylah. She's the only female child, named after her grandmother, Asma'u. Man, she's something else. Stubborn, arrogant, but I can't help it. I'm in love with her."

Jawwad's eyebrows twitched at the mention of Laylah's name.

Asma'u—his mother's name? Laylah's real name is Asma'u?

He stayed quiet, letting Bilal continue, but the mere thought of Bilal being interested in Laylah didn't sit right with him.

Bilal, not noticing Jawwad's growing annoyance, continued, "But she's so rude, man. I swear, she's arrogant just because her father's rich and he loves her too much. She doesn't respect anyone, even back in Yola. She acts like she's above everyone else. It's annoying, but at the same time..." He trailed off, shaking his head with a grin. "There's something about her. I guess it's her body that gets me, you know? That's enough for me to put up with her attitude."

Jawwad's face tightened, but he didn't say anything. He was trying to process everything Bilal was saying.

Laylah had always been rude, dismissive, and full of herself—he knew that better than anyone. But hearing Bilal talk about her like that, especially focusing on her body, made a wave of anger surge through him.

Bilal, oblivious to Jawwad's inner turmoil, kept talking. "I'm telling you, man, I'm going to marry her. Her father's rich, and he'd do anything for her. It's a win-win for me."

Jawwad clenched his jaw, feeling a strange mix of emotions. As much as he disliked Laylah and her spoiled behavior, the idea of her marrying someone like Bilal—a man who only cared about, clubbing and chasing girls—didn't sit right with him.

In fact, it infuriated him. He didn't even fully understand why, but the thought of Bilal taking advantage of Laylah made him feel protective, even though he had no reason to be.

"Does she even like you?" Jawwad asked, keeping his tone light, though his eyes had darkened.

Bilal shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really, but I'll wear her down. Girls like her act tough, but they soften up eventually. Besides, I've got her mother on my side. That's what matters."

Jawwad said nothing, but inside, he was fuming. He didn't care for Laylah's arrogant ways, but hearing Bilal talk about manipulating her made him sick. He knew Laylah was difficult, but she didn't deserve to be married off to someone who saw her as nothing more than a trophy.

They reached Bilal's car, and as Bilal opened the door, Jawwad's thoughts were still spinning. "Good luck with that," he finally said, his voice cold and distant.

Bilal, completely unaware of Jawwad's change in mood, laughed. "Thanks, man. I'll need it. Anyway, I'll catch you later." Jawwad nodded, watching as Bilal drove off.