بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Asad

The house was nothing short of grand. The expansive grounds were meticulously maintained, with lush greenery framing a wide driveway that seemed to catch on endlessly. The entrance of the house was equally imposing, with a large, intricately designed door. Stepping inside, the living room was a testament to Malik's expertise, a perfect blend of modern and functional design. The space was expansive yet felt intimate, with soft, neutral tones dominating the color palette. The floor was a sleek, polished marble, cool underfoot, with a subtle pattern. It was clear every detail of the space had been carefully considered, nothing short of what I expected of Malik's caliber.

Sitting in the Zayeds' living room was nothing like I expected though, I felt a jittery sense of anticipation. That was only my second visit to their home, but it felt as though it was the first time I truly felt the weight of what was happening. My fingers were clamped together, with my palms growing sweaty.

Hajiya Fatima, Malik, and Layla's mother, and the woman I assumed to be their aunty walked out of the living room. Malik stood and accompanied them out of the door.

"Someone is about to see his bride," Usman teased quietly beside me. "Oh, sorry. Soon-to-be bride. I've just been so delirious that I forgot you're not yet married."

I barely registered his words. This was supposed to be my formal introduction to Layla and her family, and Usman, as my best friend, had come along for support and guidance as a supposed "expert". I appreciated his presence, but it didn't ease the tension in my chest. I hardly associated socially with people, and this moment reminded me why.

Malik returned after a short while, and then Layla appeared. She moved with such grace that it momentarily took my breath away. She and Malik sat across from us, and for a second, I struggled to find my words. I found myself momentarily captivated by her presence. Her skin was a deep, rich shade of brown, carrying the unmistakable glow that spoke of her Fulani heritage.

Her features were strikingly Fulani, with high, chiseled cheekbones that gave her face a refined and regal look. Her nose was delicately sculpted, straight and fine. But it was her eyes that truly held me. Large and almond-shaped, framed by extraordinarily long, curling lashes that added a softness to her otherwise strong features. There was an unmistakenly aura in her eyes when we made eye contact and only then did I realize I was looking more than I should have.

Astagfirullah.

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.

After exchanging pleasantries, Usman excused himself to go outside while Malik sat at a considerable distance in the dining room adjoined to the front room where we were sitting.

"How're you?" I finally managed to ask, my voice betraying the nervousness I felt.

"I'm well, Alhamdulillah. How about you?" Her eyes were looking down at her hands that were sitting on her lap. Her thumb was brushing against the other fingers. I could sense her shyness, a stark contrast to our previous encounters.

"Alhamdulillah," I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips, though I was still unsure of what to say next, so silence followed. I noticed her fingers fidgeting, her thumb tracing patterns on her palm. "I'm sorry," I said finally, taking a deep breath. I needed to address the elephant in the room as Manu had advised. "I know I sent the proposal without much discussion, and I apologize for springing it on you unexpectedly." She understood what I was referring to the first time, but I felt the need to clarify.

Layla glanced up for a moment, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. She gave a slight nod but said nothing.

"Okay." Her voice was so soft and relaxed.

"If you don't mind me asking, how are you feeling about it?" I tried to sound as gentle as possible. I didn't need to ask that. No, scratch, I didn't want to ask that. It just came out without permission. I know I've put her in a difficult position, and I want her to know that I genuinely care about her feelings. I needed to approach this conversation with utmost respect.

She finally looked up, her gaze was steady but fleeting as if slowly weighing her words carefully. She looked into the space between us before her eyes met mine. It stayed for a few seconds before it drifted beside me.

"Do you plan to give me a reason to regret my decision in the future?" She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I didn't. I wasn't sure how I was going to do this, but I was sure of two things. I was going to do it and I didn't plan to have any regrets. I didn't plan to make her too.

"No." I shook my head. "I don't want you to have any regrets. I hope that, with time, you will find this decision to be a good one. In shaa Allah."

She seemed to consider my words, then muttered something I suspected to be 'In shaa Allah.'

"Do you have any questions or concerns?" I asked, feeling the weight of the silence pressing in. I would normally enjoy quiet moments in social settings but I didn't at that moment. She hesitated to say something as her eyes searched the space between us.

She shook her head. "No." I nodded. "For now, anyway. But I would later."

I felt a pang of awkwardness which was something I was all too familiar and comfortable with but not now. I wasn't adept at navigating social conservations, I had always known, and this was proving to be a challenge.

"Actually, I was wondering, you don't even know me so why...?" Her soft voice trailed seemingly with no words to finish the sentence. i knew fully well what she was referring too and I didn't need to think for a second about my answer.

"Well, I have the rest of my life to do so," I said ever so smoothly with so much truth to my words.

A very soft smile graced her face before it quickly disappeared. I was satisfied with what I had said because that was the truth. The conversation hadn't gone as smoothly as I'd hoped, but I wasn't sure what I had expected.

"How was it?" Usman asked with hopeful eyes and an anticipatory smile.

"Good," I said while opening the car door, though my tone was uncertain. "I guess."

I hoped.

"I think I need your help."

If there was one person that could help me overcome constant awkward situations, it was Usman. He had already offered but I waved him off earlier but as I thought about it, I knew there was no way I'd easily work on it alone.

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I was supposed to meet Ukhti, Sahla, my elder sister. I had dodged our last two meetings, but I knew I couldn't avoid her forever. The third time, I decided to face whatever conversation she had in store for me.

"Have you had dinner?" Ukhti asked as soon as I arrived at her house. I nodded, settling into the familiar warmth of her home. "Sabiha waited for you all evening." She added, referring to my niece before placing a cup of tea in front of me on the table.

"Where's she?" I asked, glancing toward the staircase.

"Asleep. School tomorrow." She took a sip of her tea. "You never ask about the other kids."

"Sorry. I was going to, but I'd figured they'd all be asleep by now too."

"Where's their dad?" I asked referring to Abubakar Sadiq, her husband.

"He's upstairs, putting Qamar to sleep. She doesn't want to go to bed at night because she thinks that if she stays awake, she won't have to go to school." Ukhti said with a small smile.

Sahla was the spitting image of our mother. Every feature on her face was a reflection of Ammi's, our mother. She had three daughters: Sabiha, Sajida, and Qamar. She mothered them with the same grace that had defined our mother.

"The girl is just three. Why didn't you wait until the next session before enrolling her?"

"Hey, I'm the parent here. You're not even married yet."

Now we're getting at it. There it was, the topic I knew she was probably itching to bring up.

"Why am I here, Ukhti?" I asked, leaning forward, and resting my elbows on my knees.

"Why don't you tell me? Why are you here? My threats never work on you." Ukhti squinted her eyes playfully, but there was a seriousness underneath.

"Seriously?" Ukhti has always been sweet, and always made sure everyone was comfortable, especially me. Despite living in the same city, we didn't meet often, and when we did, she made it count." What did you want to talk about?"

"You've not told me why you decided to get married. And more so, why you decided not to get married to Huda? What's going on?"

"You've talked to Usman, haven't you?" I asked, knowing the answer fully well.

She hardly ever asked questions unless she already had some information, whether business or personal life.

"Akh, are you sure about this? I mean, I feel more relaxed about you than anyone else in the family, but doesn't this all seem a bit rushed? Especially knowing for a fact that you are only doing this to avoid marrying Huda for Usman's sake." She conceded.

"That's not the only reason I'm getting married," I said, my voice firm. "I am getting married because I want to. I want Layla." I said with certainty laced in my voice, leaving no room for doubt.

My sister was quiet for a while, processing my words before finally speaking, her voice softer and tinged with concern. "Are you sure? About rejecting Huda and proposing to the Layla?" She took a deep breath, "Are you sure you are not just sacrificing yourself, so everyone gets what they want? Abu and Ammi wanting a wife for you, and your best friend getting Huda" She finished her eyes screaming uncertainty while searching mine.

"You know me, Ukhti. Why would I care what everyone wants with my life? I am doing this because it is what I want, whether or not everyone is happy. And honestly, no one would dare voice their disagreement to my face anyway." I said firmly with confidence that bordered on arrogance, knowing fully well how intimidating I was. Relatives had always stayed in their lane when it had to do with me.

"Oh, yeah. Some people are definitely not happy with your decision." She gave a knowing look while shaking her head a bit. "Especially Huda and her mother."

"Did you also know about Huda?" I suddenly asked, curious as to why she wasn't surprised or even spoke about it since we started the conversation.

"Of course, everyone knew that. We have known for a long time now. It is still surprising to everyone how you never picked on. The girl was obsessed with you." She pitifully shook her head pitifully. "Poor girl."

I stared into her eyes, feeling a strange mix of guilt and disbelief, wondering how I possibly missed it all this while they all noticed. I had never been one to pay much attention to the social dynamic around me, even within the family. If it wasn't business, it rarely registered on my radar unless someone directly informed me. They would usually say I was detached, focused, and sometimes, oblivious.

"Do you think this decision is on a downside?" I asked when the silence grew heavy.

"Now, that I think of it, it's not necessarily a bad one. On most parts, it might not be on the advantage but it's not entirely bad. I'm more than glad that you decided to get married. Marriage is always right when it is with the right person." She turned her body so that she was facing me completely from the adjacent chair. "But I'm a little worried, Akh. I can't help it."

I nodded, understanding her concern. "Why?" I couldn't resist asking. Even though I already knew the answer, my best friend had already told me. I just needed to hear it again, to feel that it was real.

"You're too tight and closed off, Akh. I know what you need in a marriage is to be willing to go on with it every single time. You decided to do this on your own, so I know you're willing to go on with it but Akh..." She took a deep breath, her voice slightly breaking. "You're still too hungover on your childhood. Ever since... you know, you've never really moved on." Her voice broke at the end, tears welled up in her eyes.

As I sat there, across from my sister, her words echoed in my mind stirring something I couldn't quite grasp. The way she said it, with that slight tilt of her head, made it clear she was trying to nudge something loose, something buried deep within me. I could feel a memory lurking at the edges of my consciousness, a shadowy figure just out of reach. It was as if my mind was guarding it, keeping it hidden in some forgotten corner where only the faintest traces remained. I wanted to press further, to dig into whatever it was she was hinting at. There was a sense of importance to it, a weight that suggested it was something worth remembering, something I could feel close to my heart.

Every time I tried to reach for it, the memory slipped through my fingers stubbornly. It felt like trying to catch smoke with bare hands, there, and then gone. My head slowly began to throb, a dull ache spreading from my temples as if my mind was resisting the effort to recall.

Sahla's teary gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, knowing she could see struggle within me, but she didn't press further. She knew I wouldn't and couldn't talk about it. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and gave her a half-hearted smile. I knew at the back of my mind what it could be, but it would remain locked away for now, hidden behind the walls my mind had built. There had to be a reason it had been buried, but I couldn't tell whether it was for my protection or something else.

I'd never let myself move on from it though. Never.

I took a deep breath. "Ukhti, what if I'm willing to move on? What if I told you that I plan to finally move on?"

"Akh, this is more about you than your marriage. You realize you can't have a marriage when you're not willing to be in it, right?"

A few minutes of silence passed, heavy with indescribable thoughts.

"I want to believe that you'll really move on. You've always taken in and carried out all your duties perfectly and effectively. One thing I know is, I do not doubt that you're going to go through this fine." She walked over to where I was sitting. "Can you do it?"

I let out a soft, partly suppressed laugh. "You realize you're too indecisive, right?" I smiled at her. "One minute, you're sure, next minute, you're not."

"I'm sure of thing though. You can do it, I'm sure you can. I've always been."

I stood up and I wrapped my hands around her. "Okay." I then gently brushed my fingers across her cheeks to wipe the tears.

"Is this a sibling reunion? Am I intruding?" Abubakar Sadiq, Ukhti's husband, said as he entered the living room. "I don't remember when I last saw you."

I walked over a few steps and shook hands with him.

"Both of you are never around, that's why. Not that I see him often rither." Ukhti said, smiling at her husband.

Abubakar Sadiq was a pilot, rarely home due to his job. They've been married for more than ten years. He was one of the very few friends I had and was comfortable with.

"It's good to see you after such a long time, Abubakar."

Ukhti and I were away from each other for a long time while growing up, only meeting during some holidays, but I was as close to her as I could be based on my ability.

"It is good, great, even. Especially since you're getting married. I'm so happy for you."

We spoke for a while, but my mind seldom reached out to the elusive memory from earlier, vague and unclear.

Left alone with my thoughts, I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that the past wasn't done with me yet. All I knew was that it was there, waiting, a piece of my past that would either resurface when the time was right or remain lost forever. And if it did, I had a sense it was going to change everything.

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Hello readers,

How was this chapter? Did we enjoy it?🤭

What did you pick along the lines of his convo with his elder sister? Could there possibly be something we are not aware of yet?😔

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