This is the update for the week or at least ten days, I have an important exam coming up, include me in your duas❤️

husnathewriter  you are incredible and I am so grateful for you❤️

Jadwa stepped out of her robe and made her way to Ammi's suite. The air was thick with the scent of floral perfumes and the hum of lively chatters. Ammi sat before the vanity, getting her makeup perfected by the artist.

After Ammi's turn was over, Jadwa slid into the makeup chair next, her quiet request for a soft glam met with approving nods. As she was getting her face beat, the hairstylist moved swiftly, expertly weaving her hair into a low bun that popped out the beautiful shade of Jadwa's hair, making it look even more stunning.

The room buzzed with activity but remained pleasant. The hiss of the steamer filled the air as Jadwa's outfits were carefully prepared, and the jewelry sets she was expected to select from gleamed under the warm light. Jadwa sat still as the makeup artist's brushes danced across her skin. When the final product was applied, the artist stepped back, allowing Jadwa to look in the mirror.

Jadwa's breath caught. A soft gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"This is so beautiful," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her lips curved into a small, genuine smile as she thanked the makeup artist.

Next came the turban, the stylist tied the fabric delicately over Jadwa's head, leaving just enough of her baby hairs visible to soften the look. When the turban was secured, the team helped her into the lavender cape dress she made for the event. Ammi who had momentarily stepped away, re-entered the room and gasped audibly at the sight of Jadwa looking dashing.

"Tabarakallah, MashaAllah, habibty!" Ammi's eyes glistened as she pressed her hands to her chest, her emotions threatening to spill over. She moved closer to her, shaking her head in awe. "You look like a bride yourself, wallah."

"Ammi, don't ruin your makeup now," Jadwa teased with a laugh, feeling Ammi's words warming her heart.

Ammi waved her off, regarding her with an appreciative smile. "Wear your jewelry now, let's get some pictures first!"

Jadwa glanced at the table of jewels, her eyes hesitating on the emerald necklace. Amanda, her stylist, held it up to her neck with a knowing smile.

"This one," Amanda said firmly, the rich green stones catching the light but that was the gift Imran had given her last. "It's too stunning to pass up. Trust me, it'll complete the look."

"No, I'll just wear this," Jadwa replied, gesturing toward the simpler silver set, but her mother clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Better listen to her," Ammi said with mock sternness. "She knows what she's doing."

Jadwa sighed in reluctant surrender as Amanda fastened the necklace around her neck. The emeralds settled against her collarbone, their vibrance amplifying the elegance of her lavender dress with its matching emerald details. She caught her reflection and swallowed hard. She hadn't looked this regal, this effortlessly poised, since her own wedding. The memories, bittersweet and heavy, pressed against her chest.

Ammi spritzed her with perfume, and they began taking pictures. Her sisters, Hannan and Ameerah joined them excitedly, their entrance punctuated by exclamations of awe.

"My goodness, Jaduuu!" Ameerah gasped, stepping aside to let the glam team film.

Hannan eyed her sister with playful envy. "Gaskiya, you've outshone us all, even after acting like the outfits didn't matter. This is unfair!"

Jadwa swatted her gently, laughing at them. "Look at yourselves. You're all breathtaking. Don't try to make me feel guilty!"

Their chatter filled the room, warmth and love flowing freely. They posed together for pictures, and later with the bride, "Zarah who looked every bit the dazzling centerpiece in her bridal ensemble, a champagne gold mermaid-style dress with delicate lace detailing, intricate beadwork adorned the bodice and it hugged her curves with elegant simplicity, the shimmering fabric catching the light like a thousand tiny gemstones. The dress gracefully kissed the floor with each step, leaving a trail of subtle elegance.

When it was time to leave, Jadwa grabbed her car keys, and Sarah slid into the passenger seat. The drive to the wedding hall was quiet, but Jadwa's thoughts were loud. Her heart felt heavy, like a crumpled piece of paper that refused to smooth out, no matter how hard she tried.

Inside the hall, the celebration was grand. Afrobeats and Hausa melodies played in the background, creating a lively ambience. Zarah and her husband sat on the stage, lapping up the attentions of everyone around. The bride's smile was huge and radiant it literally brightened up the whole room.

Jadwa was seated among her sisters, her eyes taking on the beauty and vibrancy surrounding her. Her soft lilac with touches of emerald green gown contrasted beautifully to Anaya's soft pink silk. Rahma glowed in royal blue, and Ameerah and Fatima looked gorgeous in their coordinated gold and burgundy ensembles. Even the Jordanian guests wore the asoebi with remarkable flair.

Jadwa's dress and emerald necklace drew compliments from her acquaintances, but they felt hollow to her. She smiled, as she had for days, fighting hard to mask her sorrow without giving herself and her true feelings away. The pretense was much harder to keep up with as the hours turned into days.

Jadwa felt distant to the excitement that surrounded her, absently watching the cameras flash as the guests joyfully took pictures, laughter echoing through the crowd.

Her phone buzzed in her clutch. A message from Zarah popped up:

Jadu, can you call one of the event organizers? I need my dressing room ready. This dress is too tight, and I'm eager to change.

Jadwa sighed softly and nodded to herself. Lifting her eyes, she caught Zarah's gaze across the hall. Her sister tilted her head slightly, and Jadwa nodded back in understanding. She excused herself and headed toward the event planners seated near the entrance.

Approaching the entrance allowed thoughts of that day to return to her. The memories clawed at her, threatening to cut off her air supply, unbidden and merciless. She had tried everything that day. She had planned a way to win Imran's heart back, to remind him of the peace they once shared. She had planned to cook his favorite dishes after the desserts the previous night, practiced how to speak to him without breaking down, and even created a slideshow of their happiest moments. She wanted him to remember their laughter, the bond they shared; the bond that once seemed unbreakable.

But then, he had ruined everything by coming into her own home with Khayrah.

Inevitably shattering the unbreakable bond.

The image was seared into her mind. And then he had dropped the bombshell; Imran had told her he was considering another marriage. The words had sliced through her like a dagger, and even in this very moment, it felt as though an unseen force was twisting it, digging it deeper into her heart.

Her chest tightened as she replayed his voice in her mind.

The betrayal, the jealousy, the humiliation, they were suffocating. She had been reeling from her miscarriage, the loss of the child she hadn't even had the chance to share with him, the explosive fights and everyday since then. It had driven them further apart.

Lost in her thoughts, she turned a corner and collided with someone. The impact jolted her back to the present.

"I'm so sorry," she began, looking up and as though she had been doused with freezing cold water, Jadwa froze.

Khayrah.

The memories that had been at bay rushed back into her mind, urging her defensive walls up, and her face hardened. Venomous emotions coursed through her veins at the realization that there was none before her except the last person she wanted to see.

Khayrah's expression shifted into a half-smirk, half-feigned surprise. It made her look comical.

"Oh, Jadwa, I didn't see you there," Khayrah said, her voice taking on a nasally tone dripping with insincerity.

Jadwa's hands clenched at her sides; the need to scream, to claw at her throat with bare fingernails, to release all the emotions she had bottled up gnawed at her nerves.

But she couldn't. It wasn't the place, neither was it the right time. There were cameras all over; guests, her family, everyone was watching. Even if there weren't, she wasn't the sort of person to succumb to violence.

Like the other time when Khayrah had dared to manipulate her and Jadwa had used her intellect to bash through Khayrah's words, she resolved to use the same mechanism.

Jadwa straightened her posture and fixed Khayrah with a frosty stare. "Excuse me," she said curtly, stepping around her and walking away.

"Oh! I almost didn't recognize you with the new hair color.... But It's such a lovely night, isn't it?" Khayrah said, prompting Jadwa to stop.

Imran's actions from Friday pressed on her like a heavy weight, the suffocating feeling she had felt earlier returning in waves.

Khayrah's face lit up with a sly smile, a look that Jadwa instantly recognized as anything but innocent.

Drumming her fingers against her clutch, Jadwa's lips parted, ready to deliver a curt response, but Khayrah spoke again, her tone sharp despite the saccharine sweetness injected in it.

"Events like these really make one think about the future, and new beginnings." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "You must be so proud of your sister. It's such a blessing to have everything fall into place so perfectly. Though, I suppose some marriages do take time to plan." Flinging away every pretense of genteel, Khayrah spat her next words, "They say second try's the charm, might be the same  in Ya Muhammad's situation, don't you think?"

Jadwa refrained from speaking, or reacting, in spite of the hammering of her heart, thanks to the double meaning behind Khayrah's words. She forced herself to accept the fact that she wouldn't stoop low and exchange words with the other woman. She couldn't give her the satisfaction of sparring over a man, even if it was the man who pressed all of her buttons; both the good, and the bad.

Khayrah tilted her head and added, "Oh dear, you didn't know?" Her eyes widened with mock innocence. "I... I'm so sorry. I thought Ya Imran would've told you by now. My mistake. I guess it's not my place to say more."

A scoff of derision escaped from Jadwa's lips, finding the whole conversation absurd, as though it had been staged. "Funny how you think my whole world revolves around trivialities."

True, Khayrah's words had hit a nerve, but Jadwa couldn't give her the privilege of exposing her true feelings to the world. She wasn't naive. Even if the words tore at her composure, echoed in her mind and struck her at vulnerable places, she could not afford to give herself away.

Her heartbeat escalated, emotions threatening to pull her under. Yet, regardless of the bitterness, the hurt propelled by Khayrah's insinuation, she refused to let go of her armor, clinging onto it with firm resolve.

Jadwa maintained her composure, her pride weaving its way through the edges of control and keeping her from losing it. Sick of the company, she haughtily rose her head up, her lips forming a soft pout.

The sound of a familiar voice calling her name stole her attention, she turned to see Ya Ahmad and Ameerah approaching.

"Jadu, there you are! We have been looking for you," Ya Ahmad said warmly. "Come say hi to the guys, Ya Imran just arrived too, they're all over there." He said, pointing at a table and acting oblivious to Khayrah's presence.

Like her brother, Jadwa's gaze shot to the direction Ya Ahmad had pointed at fleetingly, opting to ignore Khayrah, as though she was unaware of the unwanted company too. 

Without sparing her a second glance, she schooled her features into a neutral expression and followed Ahmad and Ameerah.

As they approached the round table where the men sat, her eyes fell on Muhammad's back, clad in a white impeccably tailored babban riga. The sight of him stirred a fresh ache in her chest.

An ache that reminded her all too clearly that he had been the one to give Khayrah the room to talk to her in any way she wanted.

She hesitated, standing just behind him, unable to summon the strength to face him directly. Memories of Hanan's wedding flooded her mind, the joy, the laughter, the ease with which they'd moved through everything together, the way they danced, the tension and attraction between them. How different everything felt now blew her mind in ways she couldn't comprehend.

Muhammad Imran, sensing her presence, turned slightly and their eyes met. His gaze softened unknowingly, Jadwa forced a smile as she leaned slightly on his chair, her hand resting on the back of it. "Assalamu alaikum," She greeted the group, her voice steady. Imran and Ahmad's friends, Sadiq, Ibrahim and their cousins cooed at the sight of the couple.

"Masha'Allah, look at the lovebirds," Dawood one of their friends and Ibrahim remarked, making Jadwa's smile tighten. Ameerah, ever the enthusiastic one, pulled out her phone.

"You two look too cute not to take a picture. Come on, smile for me!" Ameerah said.

"Ah, Ameerah, you're always ready with that camera," Imran teased, chuckling.

"Next thing we know, we'll all be tagged in one of her endless Instagram stories." Sadiq added.

"Hey! At least I know how to capture a good moment," Ameerah shot back, grinning. "Unlike some of you who can't even manage to keep your eyes open for a picture."

"Maybe because your 'moments' take twenty retakes," Ibrahim chimed in, earning a round of laughter from the group.

"Alright, alright, enough jokes," Ahmad said, shaking his head. "Let my wife have her fun. She will make sure this one goes straight to the family chat only. No public airing."

"Fine, fine," Ameerah replied with a mock pout before turning her attention back to Jadwa and Ya Imran. "Come on, you two! Stand a little closer, this will only take a second."

Jadwa turned slightly toward Imran who was now standing, eyes not shifting once on their focus; her. Her heart screaming in protest even as she forced her lips to curl upward. The act felt excruciating, as though she were trying to hold back a tidal wave with nothing but her bare hands. Standing so close to him, yet feeling an unbridgeable chasm between them, was like being stranded on an island, watching the life she once knew float further out to sea. He used his hand to grab her by the waist pulling her closer to his side with a small smile on his face.

Jadwa moved her hand further onto his shoulder slowly and rested it firmly. She smiled at the camera as he looked down at her but her throat burned, her eyes prickled with unshed tears, and the ache in her chest constricted her very being.

Her limbs felt heavy and reluctant to move, while a tremor coursed through her hand that rested on his shoulder, betraying her struggle to appear composed. It felt as if her soul itself was crying out, the pain so raw and consuming that she wondered if she might shatter right there in front of everyone.

The brave face she'd worn for days threatened to crack, the ache in her chest radiated outward, an invisible hand gripping her ribcage, making her wonder if this was how a heart truly broke.

She could have sworn the storms were so loud that Ya Imran had heard them. Her throat burned with the effort to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape, and the sting of unshed tears prickled behind her eyes.

Just then, Anaya appeared, her expression one of urgency. "Jadu, there you are. Zarah needs you. She's asking for you to check on her glam and stylists to meet her in the dressing room."

Relief washed over Jadwa as the opportunity to retreat from the crowd; his presence, was handed to her. She quickly excused herself, nodding at Anaya and turning away because speaking wasn't an option for her at that point anymore. She walked away, heading straight to the tables on the opposite side of the hall, giving instructions to the event planners and Zarah's bridal team to assist with her outfit change and glam touch-up.

But instead of heading toward the rest of the family, she slipped out of the hall.
Jadwa's breath hitched as she stepped out of hall, the cool air striking her face like an unforgiving slap.

It felt as though the world was collapsing around her. Every regret, crashing down and she stumbled to a nearby pillar, her trembling fingers gripping its cold surface for support.

The tears she had fought so hard to suppress came pouring out, streaming down her cheeks in a torrent of anguish. Her body shook with the force of her sobs, with the memories of Imran's smile, the warmth of his hand in hers, his hand on her waist, the relationship they had once cherished but now felt like cruel ghosts haunting her.

The image of him standing in the hall, surrounded by his friends, his laughter, his smile, played over and over in her mind. She had seen the way he avoided her gaze, the subtle tension in his shoulders when she stood behind him. It was as if every interaction only underscored the gaping void between them, a void that couldn't possibly be bridged.

There was a swift movement behind her which made her turn slightly, startled to see a figure approaching her,  Holding out a handkerchief. Her teary eyes barely registered the face in the dim light, her trembling hand automatically reaching to take the offered cloth. She dabbed at her cheeks, focusing on steadying her breathing, until the voice spoke.

"Why is a pretty lady like you crying, Jadu?" The voice called with a teasing edge.

Her heart stopped. That voice, laced with familiarity, sent a shiver down her spine. Slowly, she raised her head, her tear-streaked face meeting the gaze of none other than her ex boyfriend, Abdulhakim. His eyes reflected a mixture of surprise and concern, and for a moment, the pain shifted into sheer shock.

"Abdulhakim," Jadwa breathed, her voice barely audible accepting what he handed her as she dabbed her eyes quickly.

Before she could process what to say or do, her attention was drawn to movement behind him.

Jadwa's breath hitched in her throat at the sight of Ya Imran approaching with long strides, sending her pulse into overdrive. Her fingers trembled and her eyes slightly widened even though there was some weird feeling of relief that came with it.

Imran didn't spare Abdulhakim a glance. His focus was solely on Jadwa, his jaw tight and his eyes unreadable. Without a word, he reached for her hand, his touch firm yet careful, and led her away.

The familiarity of the action, coupled with how strange it now felt being held by him succeeded in making the final blow.

Neither of them spoke, the air thick with tension that felt too palpable as he led her to the direction of the parking lot, a vein throbbing on the side of his face from the strain of restraint.

When they reached his car, Imran casually hovered over her, his tall frame casting a shadow as he caged her in his arms, her back meeting the exterior of the car. His smoldering gaze, burned, his eyes stared deep into hers and he took her hands into his, snatching the handkerchief in her grasp and tossing it to the ground, his Adam's apple bobbing, furiously. Imran's anger was obvious in his gaze and the way he held himself. Seconds passed into minutes with the couple staring hard at each other, each party wishing to convey their feelings without any need for words.

Imran pulled the passenger side door open, a silent demand for her to get in. Jadwa hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs, but the exhaustion of the day's turmoil pressed on her and she silently slid into the seat, the soft click of the door shutting felt deafening in the lousy night.

As the engine hummed to life, Jadwa sat stiffly, her hands clenched in her lap. The tension coiled within her like a spring. Tears began to well up again, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over as she let out a painful sob.

Imran's head turned in her direction.

It started out slowly, her chest heaving as sobs wracked her body. The pain was too overwhelming to suppress and before Jadwa could summon the strength to control herself, the floodgates opened and all of her restrictions vanished into thin air.

Her heart felt as though it was being ripped apart, shattering to smithereens.

"Maama," Imran called out to her gently, his voice laden with concern as he reached to hold her hand.

Jadwa snatched her hand away before he could make contact, his voice only succeeding in triggering her emotions further.

It spilled in an endless flow, threatening to annihilate her, finish off what he started.

She buried her face in her hands, the sobs wracking her body with the force of a thousand rocks. Her cries grew louder, her restraints unbridled in a raw display of emotion. Jadwa broke down completely, the torrent of her emotions spilling over as the struggle for breath became a battle. A battle she grappled with amidst the chaos of her agony.

The sound of her anguish felt like liquid wax being steadily poured on a gaping wound.

Imran's hand tightened around the steering wheel, holding it in a tight grip while his other hand clenched into a fist between them. The sound of her vehement pain suffocated him. He had seen her cry, but it had never been with such an intensity; a ferocity that made him feel as though she was slipping between his fingers. She sounded broken, crushed and Imran's chest tightened at the sound; it chipped away bits of his sanity.

He swallowed, unable to voice out the words in his mind. "Jadwa," he began, his voice filled with doubt, a tremor in the deep baritone causing him to falter. "I know things have been different, but we..."

Jadwa took her hands off her face, lifting her head up as her sobs continued to wrack her whole body. Mixed emotions gliding through, one after the other. Her red-rimmed eyes met his, searchingly, seeking answers from the expression on his face.

His eyes roamed over her face and he felt the blow in his guts.

Imran's words hung heavy in the air. The unspoken implication of what he refused to say striking her like a blow, her breath hitching as realization dawned.

He was serious... serious about moving on, about the possibility of building a life with someone else as he had hinted before.

She exhaled a deep breath, his eyes catching on the steady glide of the tears cascading down her cheeks.

For a second, she hesitated, then recovered a beat later. "Are you going to divorce me? Or are you taking another wife?" she asked, a hiccup following her trembling sobs. The words felt foreign on her tongue, as though saying them aloud made them more real. "There's another woman? Is that what this is?" A deranged chuckle escaped her as a deafening silence followed after her question.

Imran stared hard at her, gritting hard on his teeth. Neither did he confirm her suspicions, nor did he deny anything. His eyes caught on the slight tremble of her lips as she sank her teeth into her lower lip, her eyes as fiery as the natural shade of her hair.

To Jadwa, his lack of response felt like an answer in itself. More tears lined up in her eyes, spilling over silently.

Silence filled the car, stifling the air with the magnitude of what it could possibly mean.

Unable to bear it any longer, Jadwa reached for the door handle. "You are not... I can't do this," she whispered, harshly wiping at her face with the back of her hand.

She turned around to face him, her eyes unyielding. "You can hold your response, but know this," she swallowed, meeting his gaze. "I'm never returning to your house. The earlier you divorce me, the better." She ground out, stepping out of the car without waiting for his response.

The cool night air hit her tear-streaked face, the breeze soothing. Jadwa felt unsteady as she strode to her own car, her vision blurred, but her resolve pushed her further.

She couldn't be the pawn in his game.