3 MONTHS LATER

It was a blistering sunny afternoon, and Imran was cooling off in the pool. His eyes were closed, body completely relaxed as he floated in the water, until a certain feeling made him look up. There she was, Jadwa, standing on the balcony with her arms folded across her chest, glaring down at him as if she could set the water on fire with her gaze.

A wide grin spread across his face, his amusement only fueling her displeasure. Jadwa squinted, sending him a silent warning, but he pressed his palms together in a mock plea. She held her ground for a moment before turning back inside, leaving him chuckling to himself.

A few minutes later, she appeared at the poolside, dressed in a fitted maroon Ankara dress that accentuated her figure, her hair pulled back into a sleek, perfect ponytail.

"You asked me to get dressed," she said, hands planted on her hips. Imran had to bite back a laugh.

"Hayati, I always wait for you. It takes me no time to get ready," he said, moving smoothly through the water toward the pool's edge. He rested his head on his folded arms, watching her with playful eyes.

"Come out, let's have lunch and go," she said, ignoring his teasing tone.

"I'm traveling tomorrow. You should be treating me like a king today," he declared, stepping out of the pool. Water ran down his muscular frame, and Jadwa, momentarily speechless, couldn't tear her eyes away from his ripped body. He ran a hand through his wet hair, a casual motion that seemed to happen in slow motion just for her.

"If you want us to go out, you should stop staring at me like a hungry lioness," he teased.

"Dream on! God forbid" she rolled her eyes "who will miss you?" she shot back, rolling her eyes the second time dramatically.

"Me?" he asked, inching closer.

"Yes, you." She stepped back, barely dodging his outstretched arm as she stuck out her tongue and bolted back into the house, laughing all the way. She peeked around the door, throwing a mock glare his way.

"If I catch you now, you'll say it's unfair!" he called after her, but all he got in response was another burst of giggles. She stuck her head out from the connecting door, teasing him again with a stuck out tongue.

Without a word, he took off after her, and she screamed, racing toward the stairs. The maroon fitted dress, though beautiful, wasn't made for running, but she didn't care. As she scrambled up the stairs, laughter spilling from her, Imran was hot on her heels.

She darted behind the couch, panting and catching her breath. "Come here," he beckoned, motioning her forward with his hand. She shook her head, another laugh slipping out as he took a step closer. She squealed, unable to stop laughing, and ran past him toward her room, but before she could escape, he caught her picking her off the floor to shoulders and her legs swinging in the air as she died of laughter and begged him to drop her down before he dropped her back on her feet.

Imran held both her hands in one of his, effortlessly overpowering her as she tilted her head back, laughing uncontrollably. "Babe, please! I'm sorry—don't tickle me!" she begged, tears of laughter forming in her eyes.

"Wa na kama?" he asked, pulling her closer. She was breathless with laughter, her freckles glistening on her sun-kissed skin. He couldn't help but admire her.

"Bana son chakulkuli" she cried loudly while he savoured the moment.

"With  your mouth like chakulkuli" he laughed. "God forbid I miss my husband, huh?" he chuckled.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped between giggles. He flicked her forehead.

"Ouch!" she cried, still laughing. He smiled.

"You'll pay for what you said little woman," he warned, and she nodded eagerly, just to make him let go.

"I'll pay for it. I'll even double the payment," she promised, and with a playful roll of his eyes, he released her.

"Finish getting dressed. I'll be out soon," he said, walking toward the shower. Jadwa blew him a dramatic kiss, her heart lighter after their playful exchange. She had woken up feeling a bit sick that morning, but now, after their fun, she felt much better.

She touched up her powder, lined her lips with brown liner, and applied a generous layer of lip plumper. Wrapping her head in a simple scarf, she allowed her baby hairs to peek out while her ponytail cascaded down her back. She draped a maroon laffaya over her Ankara dress perfectly, completing her look.

It had been five months since their marriage and four months since she moved in, and today they were going to greet Imran's stepmother, who was in Abuja. She had only met his step mom and other family members once since the wedding, but today was special. The past three months had been pure bliss. Imran had resumed work fully, and Jadwa had returned to school. He traveled frequently to Maiduguri for their family's rice fields and mill, while Sadiq focused more on his own ventures, leaving more responsibility on Imran's shoulders. Despite his busy schedule, Imran always found time for her.

The only new development outside of their beautiful home was Zarah's upcoming marriage, which had shocked everyone. Jadwa still couldn't believe the introduction had taken place, but with the wedding only a month away, she was deeply involved in all the planning and shopping.

As she added her favorite bakhoor, she made her way to Imran's room. He was now dressed in a beige kaftan that highlighted his strong biceps and chest.

"Fine girl," he said, looking up as he buttoned his kaftan. She stepped forward, taking over the task, helping him with his watch as well. "You look stunning," he said, admiring her. "Matar Muhammad," he added, taking in her entire look.

"Matar Alhaji," she corrected with a proud grin, stepping back to let him admire her fully.

"Fa tabarakallahu Ahsnanul Khaliqeen," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Token of admiration?" she teased, holding out her hand expectantly.

He sighed, feigning reluctance. "What do you want?" he asked, but her hand remained outstretched as she shrugged. With a chuckle, he went to a drawer, pulled out a few bundles of crisp thousand-naira notes, and placed them in her hand. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of fresh money—her new favorite smell.

"That's more like it, Alhaji," she said, flashing a playful smile. He kissed her lips, and they headed out together.

•••

The ride was peaceful as they drove to the house, a newly built duplex in the heart of Abuja that Imran had bought for his stepmother. He had reconsidered his decision to make Lily defer her semester, but she still had to catch up on what she missed over the summer, just like Rahma, who had to spend her summer in the hostel and still goes to islamiyya every day of the week from morning to noon.

Now, as they arrived, everything felt right. Life was full of light, and no matter the responsibilities or challenges, they faced them together.

As soon as they arrived at the house, Imran's tone was clear. "We won't be staying long," he said. His voice, though casual, didn't hide the undercurrent of disinterest. Jadwa had come to recognize this—it wasn't the first time he distanced her from forming close ties with his step mom and her family.

He opened the door for her, and Jadwa quickly adjusted her laffaya, making sure it was perfectly in place before stepping inside. Imran offered his usual Salaam, and Jadwa, shyly, followed behind him, her presence more of a whisper than a statement.

"Muhammad!" Rahma's mom greeted with excitement as soon as they stepped into the living room. The cheer in her voice was unmistakable.

"Maman Rahma, Ina yini?" Imran responded, stepping deeper into the room. Rahma's mom, a round, cheerful woman, got up and gave him a side hug.

Jadwa, trailing behind, managed a quiet greeting of her own before the woman turned her attention to her. She offered Jadwa a polite, though brief, hug. "Sannun ku da zuwa, (You are welcome)" she said, her voice welcoming, as she motioned for them to sit. Imran pulled Jadwa to sit beside him, and she complied, sitting with the same timid grace she always carried with her.

Conversation flowed naturally between them, with Jadwa only occasionally chiming in, her reserved nature taking over until Rahma came bouncing into the room. Her presence was like a burst of energy.

"I missed you!" Rahma's face lit up as she threw her arms around Jadwa in a long, tight hug. "I love your laffaya," she added, her eyes wide with admiration.

Jadwa's cheeks flushed a light pink as she smiled. "I missed you too, Rahma. Thank you! How have you been?"

Rahma plopped down onto the carpet, her usual spot, and greeted Imran with a playful handshake, which he accepted with a raised brow.

"How's Islamiyya?" Imran's tone was teasing, his eyes narrowing slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Rahma grinned. "I've been getting straight A's, even in quizzes! You can call the principal or ask Ya Ibrahim!" Her confidence was contagious, and Imran nodded in approval.

"That's good. You'll be off on vacation soon with Lily then," he said, his smile widening as Rahma's eyes lit up.

Rahma clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling an excited squeal. Jadwa, sitting quietly next to Imran, gave her a small, approving nod. She had somehow managed to convince Imran to allow the girls to go on this vacation, a trip that had been abruptly canceled earlier in the summer because of the punishment they brought upon themselves. But, it seemed, today was the day he finally relented.

"Thank you, Jadu!" Rahma sent a grateful wink in Jadwa's direction.

Before Jadwa could respond, Rahma's mom cleared her throat. "Kids of nowadays," she sighed, her tone laced with reprimand. "Instead of thanking your brother, you're busy thanking his wife. Don't you know you'll make her uncomfortable?"

Jadwa quickly ducked her head, hiding a shy smile, as the conversation shifted to Maman Rahma's health. Imran and her step mother-in-law engaged in a lengthy discussion while Rahma pulled Jadwa into a side conversation about the upcoming wedding of Zarah.

Jadwa found herself more at ease now, chatting about wedding plans, until Khayrah entered, carrying a tray of drinks and snacks.

"Sannu da zuwa (you are welcome)," Khayrah greeted as she set the tray on the center table. "Ina wuni, Ya Muhammad?"

Imran responded with a brief "Lafiya" before turning his attention back to Rahma's mom. Jadwa, however, remained seated in polite silence, stealing glances at Rahma and Khayrah's interaction.

Eventually, the visit came to its natural close. "We'll be leaving now, Maman Rahma," Imran announced, standing up. "Thank you for having us."

Rahma's mom gasped, shaking her head in disapproval. "Are we chasing you away, Muhammad?"

He chuckled, but his tone remained firm. "I have meetings to attend before I travel tomorrow, and I want to drop her off at home first."

His stepmom wasn't having it. "No, no, no. We've barely spent any time with our Amarya. You can leave her here and come back later."

Rahma chimed in eagerly. "Ya Moh, we have so much to catch up on. I'll drive her home if you can't make it."

After a little more back and forth with Rahma and her mom, Imran finally gave in trusting Rahma. "Alright, fine," he said with a sigh. "Have fun."

As he made his way to the door, he called for Jadwa to join him outside. She followed him out to the car, where he gave her a few last-minute instructions. "Text me if you need anything or want to leave, okay?" he said, his voice softer than before.

Jadwa smiled, reassured. "I'll just hang out with Rahma until you're done. She's sweet."

Imran nodded but added a warning with a teasing glint in his eye. "And don't give her any money from what I gave you earlier."

He must have seen her slipping it into her bag.

Jadwa chuckled, her voice light. "Okay, Sir. Drive safe."

With that, he drove off, leaving her to navigate the rest of the day with Rahma's family.

Back inside, the atmosphere had shifted slightly. Rahma and Khayrah were seated in the living room, talking quietly. Jadwa moved to pick up her phone, murmuring, "Sorry, I just need my phone."

Rahma, sensing the subtle tension, suggested they move to her room. "Let's go to my room, Jadu."

Once inside the room, they resumed their conversation about Zarah's wedding. Rahma showed her more fabric options, and they giggled over color choices.

Soon after, Khayrah entered, her presence cold. "Maman Rahma said we should start preparing something for her guests," she announced, her tone directed at Rahma, but her eyes flicking toward Jadwa.

Jadwa didn't fully understand the tension, but she followed Rahma to the kitchen where the two of them began preparing a meal for the guests. The heat from the stove and the strong spices in the air made Jadwa feel light-headed. She asked for a glass of water and squeezed a bit of lemon into it before gulping it down, hoping to ease the uneasy feeling in her stomach.

Rahma stepped aside by the stove, giving Jadwa space to check the peppered chicken simmering in the pot. Jadwa stirred the dish one last time, savoring the rich aroma before a voice behind her caught her attention.

"I see why he married you now," Khayrah remarked, her tone tinged with amusement. "The hair, the curves, slim-thick." She chuckled, tossing her long black braided extensions over her shoulder. "Almost his type, if I remember correctly."

Jadwa's brow lifted in surprise, her eyes narrowing just slightly. Khayrah noticed. "I mean, you're very attractive," she added quickly, her smile thin.

Jadwa sensed something beneath the surface of the compliment—something veiled and condescending. She forced a smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "So are you," she said softly, turning back to the pot. With a quiet precision, she shut off the burner and placed the pot's lid down on the counter, right beside where Khayrah stood.

Rahma re-entered the kitchen, breaking the tension. "The guests are here," she announced, swiftly gathering the dishes that were ready to be served moving out to arrange them on the table.

Jadwa focused on transferring the chicken to the serving dish Rahma had brought, but her head swam, the familiar light-headedness creeping up on her. She tried to work quickly but couldn't shake the sensation that mixed with Khayrah's words, so she moved slower than usual.

Khayrah's voice sliced through the kitchen air. "Can't you hear people are already here?" she snapped. Jadwa's eyes flicked up, half-expecting Khayrah to be talking to someone else. But no—she was talking to her.

Jadwa kept her focus on the dish, ignoring the sting in Khayrah's words. She was almost finished when Khayrah spoke again, this time with a cruel snicker. "Are you usually this slow? How does he tolerate you? I know for a fact he can't stand slow people."

Jadwa inhaled deeply, her jaw tightening as she swallowed the rising bitterness in her throat. Khayrah's perfume, heavy and overpowering, suddenly became unbearable.

"Your perfume..." Jadwa began, her voice strained. She swallowed again, fighting the urge to gag. "It's suffocating me. Please."

Khayrah's laughter echoed, sharp and mocking. "Girl, what did you just say?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Jadwa wished she hadn't said anything, but it was too late now. "Your perfume," she repeated, coughing to clear her throat.

"Kutumar Uba!!!" She exclaimed low eating her chin up and down to look at Jadwa head to toe "You must be out of your mind. Who are you talking to like that?" Khayrah's voice dropped dangerously low, her words dripping with venom. She took a step closer.

"Do you think I'm your mate? You walk around with your head held high because you married Ya Muhammad, but let me tell you something! if you want whatever black magic you did to steal him also help you keep him, you better respect yourself and stay in your lane."

Jadwa's stomach twisted with nausea, but she managed to keep her composure. Her phone chimed, signaling a message from Imran which brought a smile on her face, and with steady hands, she dropped the serving spoon swiftly on Rahma's open palm.

"Here," she said, stepping aside.

"You do it" she added. "I have a husband to attend to," tilting her head as she turned her phone slightly, revealing a glowing screen. His name flashed in the notification above their pre-wedding photo. With a subtle smile, she spun on her heel and began to walk away, but not before throwing one last remark over her shoulder, her voice smooth and cutting. "Oh, and maybe switch up your perfume. Could be why you're not even worth a second look from him."

IT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN.
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