*Chapter dedicated to oyiza27. Sorry for the super late update.*

Chapter Fifteen

            FATIHA WAITED WITH BATED BREATH for what Munir had to say. A strong wave of unsettlement rested at the apex of her stomach, taking away the calm she had been feeling just seconds ago.

What could he have to say? she wondered. What else was there to say?

Restlessly, she shifted from one foot to the other. She hoped Basmah really didn't need the drugs at the moment because it looked like whatever Munir had to say was going to be a long.

Fatiha glanced briefly at her companion as she wondered what the delay could possibly be.

She had known Munir since she was little and all through her entire life she'd never seen him so anxious before. Back when they were younger and he had been nicer, Munir had been confidence itself. She had never seen anyone other than him at that age who was so full of assertiveness; be it in his looks or brains.

Seeing him struggling for what to say now left Fatiha baffled. So much so it made her wonder what could cause him such distress.

Other than being overly confident, Munir had never liked involving himself in difficult situations. It wasn't just part of his carefree nature. But, Fatiha thought with a pause, the last time she'd seen him was years ago. Who knows what traits he'd picked up during that time?

Tired of waiting, she opened her mouth to say something when he suddenly—and finally, Alhamdulillahi—spoke up.

"Can you give me a second?" He asked her but before she could respond he was already gone.

Fatiha sighed. "Sure, take your time." She muttered sarcastically under her breath, then told herself she would wait for just five minutes and if he wasn't back by then, she was gone.

He came back out after four minutes. Fatiha frowned. She really despised his ability of showing up when not needed. Plus she really didn't want to have a conversation-turned-confrontation with him.

She watched from under the shade of a tree as he searched for her. She shifted uncomfortably when he spotted her and smiled. Scrunching up her nose, Fatiha threw her face to the side, refusing to watch as he crossed the street and made his way over to her.

Two goats ate mindlessly at the side of the deserted road. A small wind blew a little swirl of dirt, paper and discarded polythene bags down the street before scattering its contents around in the air.

Fatiha dodged two raining nylons just as Munir reached her side. He gave a flighty apology for keeping her as he dug into a second nylon bag she hadn't seen him with before.

"Here," he said, handing out a pack of Mentos to her.

Fatiha stared befuddled for a moment at the mint flavored sweet in his hand before she looked back up at him. "What do you want to say, Munir?" she asked plainly.

He dropped his hand, the sweet rattling in the process. His eyes wandered and his brows knitted as he thought of the best way to say what he had to say. The light and chirpy tone he'd been using earlier was gone, and a heaviness settled around them like a cloak.

"We were children," he began as he looked her in the face.

Fatiha looked back at him, silently encouraging him to go on.

"I'm not saying what we did back then was right, it was terrible and I should have told you this a lot sooner —I wanted to do so many times, but I just..." He shook his head.

The perplexity he was feeling probably reflected itself onto Fatiha's face, because Munir tried again. 

"What I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry, Fatiha. I want to apologize for what I and the guys did to you. For what I did to you and how I treated you. For everything."

Fatiha's eyes popped in surprise. A small gasp left her parted lips. An apology was not what she had been expecting to hear from him. Her heart beat madly against her ribcage. Was she dreaming, right now? She was probably going to wake up any second now because there was no way Munir was apologizing to her. It's all in your head, she told herself.

She looked at her companion and he seemed to be waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he went on with his speech.

"You are a close family friend and you're my sister's best friend, Fatiha. You should have been like a sister to me. If  I had treated you like a sister maybe we would have had a normal relationship, instead of this tug of war hate relationship."

"I don't hate you." Fatiha who had been flustered speechless blurted.

Munir gave her a small smile. "Then maybe if Noor knew she would stop hating me."

Fatiha snorted. "I was wrong." She mumbled to herself. Then to him, she squarely said, "Noor doesn't hate you. Sure she acts that way, but she doesn't feel that way. I guess she's just being hard on you because you deserve it." She added pointedly.

Munir said nothing. He just stood there looking as guilty as he felt. It made Fatiha secretly happy to see him this way.

"You humiliated her best friend, caused them to have a little bit of falling out, and ruined her friend's self-esteem. Yeah, sure, but she doesn't hate you. You're her only brother and the only sibling she has, she can't hate you even if she tried to." She assured. "And you can call what we have a dispute, but not hate. I don't hate you, Munir. I just hate the way you behaved back then. And to be fair, I still don't like how you behave sometimes."

Was this what she was supposed to be doing? Emancipating her enemy of his guilt? Helping him fix his relationship with his sister? Shouldn't she be feeling angry? Was he apologizing for all the pain he'd put her through all those years ago just so he could get on good footing with his sister? It should hurt her that he was just doing it after all these years. She should be enraged! Yet, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest, albeit a little bit.

"Can you forgive me, Fatiha?" Munir begged. "I wanted to apologize but more importantly I wanted to be forgiven."

Forgive? The word played over in Fatiha's head. She might be feeling good about the apology, but could she forgive him? No. The right question was was she ready to forgive him?

"Can we start over?"

A genuineness she rarely saw in him shone in his honey eyes. 

"I just..." He sighed wearily. "I'll be leaving Nigeria again soon and I don't know when I'll be back or when we'll see each other again, but I really wanted to apologize, Fatiha. Not just because I want you to feel at ease when you come over to visit Noor, but because I sincerely want your forgiveness."

Her religion taught her to be forgiving. Heck, the religion meant peace itself. Fatiha was going to forgive him. She was sure of it. If her Lord, the Most Forgiving could forgive her after every single sin she committed, who was she,  a little human to turn away someone seeking forgiveness? If he was honest and had regretted his actions, that was more than enough reason to forgive him.

However, she wasn't going to make it that easy for him. She'd suffered for years because of him and his friends. Her lack of self-assuredness and self-esteem was all their fault. She wasn't looking for a dramatic apology or a poem written for her. No. Munir's apology was more than enough, however she was still scarred.

"So," Munir's voice stole into her train of thoughts. "Can you forgive me?"

"I accept your apology."

Munir exhaled. His eyes glowed with relief and gratitude. He smiled down at her and opened his mouth to say thank you, but Fatiha beat him to it.

"I accept your apology, but sadly I can't forgive you... at least not yet." She told him. "I appreciate you finally apologizing and I like the idea of us being civil, but it would take a while for us to get there, Munir. I'm still haunted by the past, so maybe when I'm a little better I'll forgive you. I hope you can understand."

"It's more than enough, Fatty." He grinned. His term of endearment finally appearing.

"You should stop calling me that." She rebuked him.

He playfully shrugged a shoulder. The anxiety he'd been feeling earlier washed off of him as his easy lopsided grin returned. "It suits you." He remarked, then quickly added, "Not that I'm saying you're fat."

Fatiha laughed. "But I am fat." She jested. "It's a lot better than being referred to a Saniya, to be honest."

The sound of the adhan ended any further discussions. Fatiha bid Munir farewell before hurrying home with her heart lighter than she'd felt in years.

A heaviness, however, took root in it the moment she stepped into her house and found her mother waiting for her in the sitting room. The impending doom she'd been expecting suddenly dropped on her like a bucket of cold water.

Still in her meeting wrapper, Rashidah looked up at the sound of her daughter walking in. "Where are you coming from?" she asked sharply, the native words rolling off her tongue with heat.

"I went to buy drugs for Basmah," Fatiha responded as calmly as she could.

"Basmah," her mother sneered. "The one who isn't even concerned about marriage, ko?"

Fatiha turned to look down the hall at her room in distress . The door was locked but she was certain if her friend was awake she would be able to hear everything her mother was saying.

"I don't know why you are even friends with that girl." Her mother shouted.

Fatiha shared looks with her sisters. They were all having the same thought in their head, but no one was going to be the one who would remind their mother that she was also friends with Basmah's mother.

"I have no problem with Aabidah, at least she's married. Nooriya thinks she's still a small girl because her mother treats her as such. But that girl Basmah I don't understand." She shook her head to prove her point.

Her mother's voice was beginning to shake the house. Nafeesah moved uncomfortably in her seat at the dining table. Zarah rushed out of the kitchen with round and disturbed eyes just as Madinah stepped into the house. Like she couldn't care less what was going on, she greeted a fuming Rashidah before going off to her room.

"I heard Hussaini doesn't want to marry you but I know you're the one behind his decision. Are you learning how to chase men away from your friend? Because that is all she does. Or are you still waiting for that boy you call Faisal?" Rashidah demanded. "Do you and your friends think you're still small girls? Your mates are getting married and giving birth up and down, while you're here. Twenty seven is not small again o, Fatiha. Just look at Aabidah."

"What has happened is Allah's will. If we are not married, it is because it is not yet our time." Fatiha countered her mother's harsh words.

"Comparing people like that is not good. People's lives are different. Besides marriage is not everything." Nafeesah mumbled to her books but their mother heard her.

"Is not abi? If you like don't shut up there!" She shouted furiously at her last born, and then to her first said, "When you don't see any man who is willing to marry you again, you'll know. You better advice that your friend that is a teacher that her time is going."

Just as Rashidah ended her statement, the door to Fatiha's room burst open and a grinning Basmah came out.

"Aslamualaikum, mamana." Basmah said her tasleem before bending a bit to greet the older lady in Hausa.

At the sudden appearance of the girl she had been ridiculing, Rashidah's frown deepened. She looked down at the girl with pursed lips, her hands on her hips.

"Kar kidamu, Mamana. I will soon marry. In fact, you'll be the first to hear the news." The teacher chirped with a laugh as she wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulder.

Rashidah scoffed. "Hmm, you better. It's for your own good, not mine. If you like marry, if you like don't. Na you sabi." She muttered before storming out of the parlor.

"Is marriage everything?" Nafeesah wondered aloud, her eyes round with disbelief. "I swear sometimes I wish I was a boy. Maybe then she wouldn't bother me so much."

Zarah as always made no contribution. With an heavy sigh, she turned around and made her way back to the kitchen.

Saddened by the situation and at her mother's lack of courtesy, Fatiha sent her friend an apologetic look, but the dark lady only grinned.

"Did you get the drug?" she asked.

"Yes." Fatiha replied. "Here." She said as she handed over the white paper pouch. 

"I'm going then," her friend announced. She waved the girls good bye and left the house.

After a second thought, Fatiha darted out after her friend.

"You can go back now, Tia. I know my way home." Basmah joked when they'd walked for a while.

"Sorry about what happened," Fatiha finally managed to apologize. "And you don't have to listen to what my mommy said."

"But she's right, is she not?" Basmah queried in return. "She's only doing it because she cares."

Fatiha laughed dryly. "Care?" she sarcastically asked. "She has a weird way of showing it."

Basmah swung her arms back and forth as she walked. It reminded Fatiha of when they had been little. Of when things had been okay. Of when Fatiha didn't have to think about marriage and Basmah still had her father.

"At least she's trying, my mommy probably doesn't know I exist. I think she cares more about farming than she cares about me."

A somber silence walked with them. Fatiha had nothing to say to her friend. It disturbed her that she was being ungrateful towards what she had and her Lord. Silently she sought forgiveness. 

"We're no longer small girls, Tia." Basmah's voice pierced the silence surrounding them. "Aabidah has a kid and is now in her second marriage, but here we are. Isn't it strange how we don't worry over aure like other Nasarawa girls do?"

"I'm happy we don't do that, to be honest." Fatiha confessed timidly. "At least we still have more time with each other. Marriage will only tear us apart and I'm scared to even think about that."

Her reason was a little selfish, she had to admit. But her friends were her second family. A more special one because she'd chosen to stay with them herself. They supported each other and encouraged each other. And Fatiha had grown dependent on them. Perhaps too dependent if she was being honest.

Definitely selfish, her mind rebuked.

"But it has to happen."

The softly spoken and firm words took Fatiha by surprise. She looked at her friend. Basmah's eyes were blank, the fake cheerfulness she'd exhibited for her friend's mother mere moments ago was gone and a weary defeat took over her.

"You're not getting... married, are you?" Fatiha asked, the words trembling out of her unsteady lips.

Her friend looked sharply her way. Her emotions haywire. "What? No." She finally replied. "Of course not." She waved dismissively. Her smile very bright.

Fatiha didn't know if she should believe her friend or not. Basmah was the most secretive of them all when it came to her feelings.

"Are you sure?" she prodded.

"Ya Rabbi, Fatiha, yes. Do I look like someone who has a man waiting to marry her?" Basmah giggled.

Fatiha opened her mouth to argue more but what came out of it instead was: "Munir apologized."

"Ha!" Basmah gasped in awe. "You're lying!"

"I'm not."

"SubhanAllah, Tia! This is great news. After so long! I'm so happy I can feel tears coming." The teacher cradled her friend's cheeks in her palms, her eyes glissy with tears.

Fatiha chuckled tearily. "Me too."

"Aww, my baby." Basmah cooed then wrapped her arms around the chubby woman.

"He also asked me to forgive him." Fatiha shared with muffled words.

"So?" Basmah pulled back to look her in the eye. "Did you?"

Running her tongue over her parched lips, Fatiha diverted her gaze then shook her head in the negative. "It's too soon. I'm still bitter." She expressed.

"It's fine, Tia. You can do it when you're ready. It shouldn't have to come easy."

Fatiha nodded, then firmly begged, "Promise me you'll call me if something happens." Her eyes creased with worry.

The arms around her dropped as her friend sighed exhaustively. "Fine, I promise I'll call."

***
Asalamu alaykum guys. Hope you enjoyed reading the chapter. I began working and then it messed up my schedule, but my plan is to wrap this book by this month in shaa Allah.

Hope you loves have been doing great btw. Don't forger to like, share and comment.

Stay safe
Ma salaam😘