If you have no idea what Sinasir is, there's a picture of it that UmmiAbdull made in may. She's on Instagram @khair_treats_ to order amazing snacks on her menu.

If I remembered today was the wedding, I might not have stepped a foot outside the house then. But then, I could not have taken delivery of the sinasir and soup I sent for.

"So, how are you faring?" I sigh and lean against the fire escape railing, electricity went out earlier so the elevator isn't working.I could have avoided questions like this from my one-floor-up neighbor.

"I'm fine. I need to pay the delivery person, so please excuse me." I turn and climb the stairs to the last floor, taking the back into the door room lobby.

"Hello." I greet the delivery person. "Ma, good afternoon, oh my goodness. It's you." I smile at the young lady who doesn't look older than my twenty four years.

"Yes, it's me." I smile wider at her and flap the hem of my floor length hijab. "This is your food. The restaurant said it's courtesy of the house. Thank you so much for ordering." I sigh, collecting the food, knowing that nothing I say or do will change their mind.

"What's their Instagram handle?" She passes me a piece of paper no doubt they packaged from the shop. "It's also on the packaging bag." I nod at her and waved her off, standing there in the lobby till she drives off on her bike.

Back upstairs, once I open the food, the scent of the soup envelopes the entire room, I took my food into my room. Most of the bride's things were brought to this house, put in the room we called spare bedroom. And according to Abdul, she'll share his room till he can get a new apartment for her.

I'd cried my eyes out yesterday until I called Rabiah who warned me to stop crying and get ready to start locking my door and start enjoying my own company. This is me, listening to that advice.

After taking professional photos of the food, strategically placed under a nice ring light, I finally take it back to get microwaved. Right there in the kitchen, my phone rings.

"Where are you?" I look at the number again before putting the phone back to my ear. It's Rabiah  "At home." She hums and asks if I want to go out to have a pedicure and spa day. And for me who loves being pampered, I jump at the opportunity and say yes. Immediately wolfing down my food the moment the microwave dings.

I rush to my en suite bathroom and thank God I had the sense to choose this room, I wouldn't have to share bathrooms with Abdul and his new wife, however short her stay here is. Once done, I wipe down my body and apply a body butter I got as thank you for advertisement.

While pulling up my dress, I order a cab, when told the cab arrives in five minutes, I quickly tie my scarf, pining it with a pearl encrusted pin I bought in Lagos last year. As I turn off appliances due to the expected change in light source, the driver sends a message that he has arrived.

Three minutes later, I'm in the cab, on my way to the city centre, all my troubles totally forgotten.

*****

Sa'ad

"Why did you do all that rubbish, allowing your wife to put it on social media?" I shake my head at Muslim who doesn't believe in love and wants to make the rest of the world like him. He is referring to Adnan whose wife is a social media influencer and said 'I love you' in what I've decided is a beautiful way.  

"Rubbish? It was just me letting my wife love me and me loving her back." Muslim hisses and takes a gulp of his apricot juice, motioning for the waiter to fill his cup.

"It's all corny. Which one is press, pull, just to tell you I Love you. I even bet she doesn't mean it." I arch a brow at Muslim, shifting my sitting position to look at him properly. This sounds like a conversation I want to be in.

"She's my wife, I love her, she loves me in return."Adnan maintains with a smirk which makes Muslim bang the table, I roll my eyes at him, surely this is coming from deep rooted pain in Muslim.

"Well, the truth will soon come out. I pray you won't regret it." It's my cue to enter the conversation. "Muslim?" He sips his juice before replying. I go on regardless.

"What does your wife mean to you?" He shrugs. "What kind of question is that?" I shrug in return, knowing he'll soon get frustrated. "Anyhow you like answer, just tell me what your wife means to you."

"I give her money whenever she asks, she cooks for me, we make love once in a while to get pregnant. She teaches my children good manners; which is why I married her." He thinks harder, shaking his head to signal finished.

"That's all, what else is she there for?" He ends the statement.

"You don't even love her Muslim!" Adnan shouts at him. I swallow, putting my hand out to calm Adnan who's getting angry at the flippant way Muslim has talked about his wife and mother of his three children.

"What's there to love, love is trouble, just give her all she wants and she's good." I sigh, then put out my hands to make them quieten again.

"At this point, Muslim; You have made Aaliyah a glorified housekeeper and nanny. She doesn't have a life of her own, doesn't even talk to you unless you talk to her, which I can imagine is really crazy." Muslim doesn't say anything which means I can go on.

"You don't see her as a human, you see her less than so. If you don't treat your wife well, you don't need to pull Adnan down that road with you. You need to start respecting the woman you live with. It's even her Islamic right, so why not?" He doesn't answer, so I don't talk anymore, only asking the waiter for the bill.

This conversation is nerve wracking.

*******

Labeebah

"That day ehn, I nearly cried. I sat in the hot sun for about two hours begging these officers, I just feel like they intentionally did it to rile me up, just that Ma had warned me not to say a word. So, all I did was play games on my phone, even when my phone's battery died, I charged it with my power bank, no need to exert myself over a set of children taking out their anger on a woman." Rabiah laughs and takes a sip of her tea.

"So, how did you get out?" I hiss lightly, making eye contact with the lady doing my pedicure. I beg her with my eyes to be careful, she nods apologetically.

"Their boss, I think he was, was driving past because they were so at attention that I thought their backs would break." Rabiah's laughter fills the room. "They must have been afraid." She says and I nod, taking a sip of my very nice passion fruit juice.

"They had to lie against me. Saying I insulted them, I explained to this man, I didn't even know he was a major, then he asked me to leave, as we drove off, he kept on reprimanding them, wallah, it was sweet to watch." Rabiah sighs as the lady doing her pedicure rubs in oil into her feet.

"How was the honeymoon?" She shakes her head, a beautiful smile widens her lips. "Oh my Allah. I can't even recount how I feel. He's a dream come true." I giggle knowing that He is her husband who is oh-so-amazing.

"Happy for you." She turns to me and asks me to move closer, I do as she bids and she asks "How are you?" I sigh sadly. "I do not know, no emotions. Especially if I now that I know that he was using the money from our joint account go buy everything. He had to get a job." She shakes her head knowing how I fend for both of us with all my money.

"I hope she knows what she's getting into, Abdul will leave that job once she has settled in. Abdul and laziness are like five and six." I laugh quietly, knowing every word is true. He is the definition of lazy, entitled and manipulative.

"We'll be fine. That's for sure." She sighs and looks away from me, I pat her hand knowing she is very worried about me. Even I want my optimistic words to be true.

*****

So guys, thank you so much for 3k reads. 😭🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

Thank you all so much. God bless you so much. God bless you all richly, I'll post chapter ten at night.

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Love y'all, see y'all later.

TheOmoope 💙❣️