This book made me start listening to Indian songs, abun ba sauqi😂
I'm so sooo sleepy. Your Friday update came early🥹 keep pouring your comment and your updates will come in shaa Allah!

SAADATU'S POV.

KANO, NIGERIA.

"Adnan came for the little girl as well. But, he's been on a case with Mahmoud I haven't seen them all afternoon." Ya Mama stated, explaining her brother's presence.

I could only offer a half-hearted smile, the response at the tip of my tongue but I bit it back, pretending as if no such thoughts are going on in my mind.

So, he's been in the house the whole time? And she's just telling me now?

Wow, thank you for the information Ya Mama. I could've gotten it like, ten minutes ago. You know, before I went on rambling about how he's not my type—which is a lie, it's just his attitude that wipes it away—and before I choked on coke and made an absolute fool of myself in front of him for the nth time.

It should really be our thing at this point...me appearing like a fool in front of him. It seems to be a habit. Yet another reason why I'll never even consider that suggestion. In fact, I'll pretend I never heard anything about it and move on with my life.

"Are you okay?" Ya Mahmoud, Ya Mama's husband inquired as he settled on the couch beside his wife while the other guy who shall not be mentioned but looks ridiculously good in glasses settled on the couch opposite me.

I nodded, though my eyes burned with unshed tears having choked badly. Leaning forward, I dropped the can on the coffee table, careful with the sleeping baby in my arms so as to not wake her up. "I'm fine." I wheezed out, coughing a bit more.

The baby in my arms stirred, the sound no doubt waking her up. Her face scrunched up, her little fist going to her eyes as her lips parted, and she let out a small wail.

Eyes dilated slightly, I tried to pat her back in a attempt to lull her back to sleep but she wasn't willing to accept any of that. Ya Mama got on her feet, closing the distance between us. "Let me help you, you must be tired of holding her for so long." She took the girl, and I willingly handed her over because I do not do well with crying kids no matter how cute they are. "I'll take her to the room." With that said, she left the room, leaving me with the two men.

"So...this is a pleasant coincidence; don't you think so? Walili? That we're all here together?" Oh, and there's Faiza, who cannot keep her mouth shut. It's practically impossible for me to miss the teasing hint in her tone, making me throw her a small glare, praying with every fiber in my being that she does not elaborate on what we're talking about.

Ya Mahmoud leaned a bit to stare at her. "Amarya." He called out. "You're here as well? You ladies having a girls' only conversation or what?" He shot me a questioning look.

I chuckled nervously, as I fixed my veil that had dropped off my shoulder, and offered him a queasy smile. His earlier words showed he may or may not know what we're talking about, but I hope it's the latter. It'll be best if that statement is all he heard.

I dare not look at the man seated across me, afraid if our gaze meet, I would embarrass myself further. Believe me, I already feel like smacking myself in the back of the head for all I've done so far.

"You have no idea." Faiza, the wicked lady, chuckled, her gaze fixed on me. I glared at her, hoping it serves as enough warning for her to shut the hell up. "It stays between us for now though." Thank God.

I visibly released a sigh of relief, my eyes flicking shut as I tilted my head back, my heart beat returning to normal.

At least, up until Faiza decided to open her mouth again. "But if it works out, and I hope it will, you'll be the first to know." My eyes peeled open, and I found myself shooting her another glare. If looks could kill, the girl would be six feet under by now believe me.

Ya Mahmoud nodded. "Alright then." He didn't prod further, God bless his beautiful soul.

"And Yaya." Faiza called out, despite him being too far out of her sight.

He hummed, a silent response that he's listening to her. I tried to spot him through the corner of my eye without making it too obvious, but I couldn't see shit. I gave up.

"—we have something to discuss, I'll call you later in shaa Allah." Um, no she won't. Why would she call him? What will she discuss? I sure hope it's not whatever nonsense she spewed earlier because if it is, God help me I'll fly back to Maiduguri and kill someone's child.

But then I made a mistake. I made the mistake of looking in his direction, and our eyes met for the first time since that night in Hajiya's room. Only this time, the stare lasted longer than a second. His expression was hard to read as he held my gaze, as if trying to discover something only to look away a few seconds later, flicking his gaze in the direction of the tablet, despite being unable to see her as well.

"Alright." That was his only response, before he fixed his attention back on the device in his hand, giving it his undivided attention. His glasses held the reflection of the screen, his fingers moving across the screen.

Faiza ended the call with quick farewells exchanged between she and her brother in law. The only farewell she got from me however was a glare that screamed she and I will have a long ass conversation once I go back home.

With her gone, I was truly left alone with the two men—one of which I knew and was hoping wouldn't say a thing till I find an excuse to bolt out of the house. The other though, I don't mind interacting with. He has a way of making one feel welcomed, which the other could really use because that attitude of his is a no-go.

"So, Walida." Ya Mahmoud's voice came after a few seconds of awkward silence, his warm smile easing the awkwardness away. "Ya gida, yasu Anty?"

I offered him a smile back, sitting up from my slouched position. "Lafiya qalau, alhamdullilah."

"Ya school? Kodake, you're doing your IT, right? I heard Faiza's doing the same.

"Yes, I started this week." Thankfully this very day, I have a free day off. The department I've been sent to begin with are quite lenient. You go to work at 9 and close by 1, and even then, we go only 3 times a week—Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

"Where are you doing it?"

"Horizon General Hospital, Kano."

His lips parted, his smile widening. "Ah, ah. That's our hospital ai." He then shifted his gaze to the man seated on the couch to his left, who kept his lips sealed, his gaze still fixed on his phone as if he couldn't hear the conversation directed towards him. Ya Mahmoud shook his head, then met my gaze again. "You're situated at the lab, right? I know how your course is and all."

I could only nod in response though deep down I was regretting ever choosing the same faculty. Who even deceived me into choosing biochemistry in the first place? Oh yeah, JAMB did. I don't know how I went from applying for Medicine to ending up with Biochemistry of all courses. The absolute worst I tell you. I wouldn't recommend it even to my enemies much less to those close to me.

"Lab work to and fro." I suspired, my shoulders slumping. "It's just six months so I hope it'll pass by in a flash."

"It will in shaa Allah." His words were comforting, like that of someone who has already went through it and knows it all. He has, though he's a doctor on the other hand, like the man seated beside him so safe to say, they've both seen the shege and shegiya thanks to the medical field. "I'm certain we'll cross paths in the hospital or even get to work together, who knows? But, if you have any worries, do let me know, okay?"

I nodded, my smile genuine.

"-and if you couldn't get through to me, I'm sure this guy here will be of help as well." He nudged his head in the direction of the one with glasses, seemingly obsessed with his phone. Good to know. "Whoever you prefer anyways."

Believe me, if it's up to me, I'd definitely chose Ya Mahmoud, he's nicer. But, I'm hoping I wouldn't be in a position where I'd have to seek either of them. Speaking of which, I didn't even know the latter works at the hospital, or even in Kano to begin with. I never bothered to ask. I should've though, so I would've picked somewhere he's not working.

The universe is really hellbent on making us cross paths huh? Yay. I'm so happy.

Note the blatant bloody sarcasm.

Ya Rahman.

Thankfully, Ya Mama came back soon enough and the whole air became light with her presence. The conversation's direction changed, and surprisingly, the brooding man with glasses even chirped in a few words every once in a while, contributing to the conversation in general but I made sure to avoid looking in his direction.

I've already made up my mind to avoid him, and absolutely nothing would change that. As Asr prayer time neared, I mentally prepared myself to get ready to leave after the prayer. I had lunch together with Ya Mama, while the men did so after returning from Zuhr prayer at the nearby masjid. With evening nearing, my mind had started to wander home. It's a miracle I made it through the hours I intended considering there's a certain someone I've been hoping to avoid.

After praying Asr in the guest bedroom, I called Muazu to pick me up. He decided to show his true colors at the moment, refusing to pick up even after I've called him over five times. I waited for a while to see if he'd call back but even I know deep down that he wouldn't. Rashin mutunci kuma, ba wanda bai iya ba.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, I decided to just head back home myself. Tucking aside the prayer mat and the hijab, I fixed my head tie in place, and wrapped my veil again before picking up my phone and making my way out.

"Kin same shi?" Ya Mama asked, the minute I stepped into the living room where she and her brother were seated, having small conversations between themselves.

I shook my head, "No. I'll just find a Keke Napep and go home." I tried to mask my annoyance at the man. I honestly don't think Muazu can go through a day without geting under someone's skin.

"Keke Napep kuma?" Ya Mama repeated, as if it's the most absurd thing ever, "It's not safe, especially not with how insecurity is at the moment." She then shook her head, her brows cinched. "Gashi Mahmoud has stepped out, da nace ya ajiye ki a gida. He just left, if I had known, he would've taken you along."

"It's no problem really. I can go back on my own."

"No can do." She vehemently shook her head, standing her ground. She then shifted her gaze to the man seated beside her. "Adnan, why don't you take her home?"

"What?"

"No--"

I threw him a quick glance, just in time he stared at his sister, as if silently asking if she'd grown two heads to ask him to take me home. That would no doubt disturb whatever work he's doing, or his alone time. I dare not interrupt such sacred time. I don't even want to be in the same space as him.

Plastering a small smile on my face, I fixed my attention on her again. "No, thank you." I repeated. "It's okay. I'll find my way back da gaske."

"Not happening." Seems as though whatever I say won't get through to the woman, she's made up her mind. Or maybe she has some ulterior motives? I wouldn't be surprised after the conversation from earlier. Offering him an innocent smile, she added, this time her words directed to him. "Be a gentleman for once."

"I am a gentleman." That may be the longest sentence I've heard him say today. It's always the damn clipped response. It seems he doesn't have anything in his vocabulary beyond two words, or so I thought.

"Prove it." She didn't back down, holding his stare, as if daring him.

One would genuinely think the two are twins or something, despite him being older. But, from what I know, there's only a year difference between them so they grew up practically like twins, and bicker like one as well. Clearly.

A few seconds passed before he huffed out a breath, his shoulders slumping. "Fine." He resigned, reaching his hand up to fix his glasses as he got on his feet, picking up the car keys on the couch beside him. Dusting his sandy brown Kaftaan off the nonexistent dirt there, he picked up his cap and perched it right on his head, over the neat trim.

"Great." Ya Mama clapped her hands together, glad she'd gotten what she wanted. She got on her feet as well. "Walida, let's go to the kitchen so I'll give you dambun Anty. I've packed it up already."

Soon enough, I had Anty's cooler in my hold and had bid Ya Mama farewell, not before thanking her for being such a great company. I already feel much better than I did when I left home, and regardless of our earlier conversation at first, the rest of the day managed to pass by without me thinking of my current predicament again. I felt light, my heart feels so.

That feeling somehow still lingered when I spotted his car in the parking lot, only this time, it wasn't the blue BMW from Maiduguri. This time around, it's a gray Benz—whatever edition I don't even know. Cars aren't my thing, and I wouldn't have known which one is this without seeing the trademark logo.

The car isn't tinted, so I could see his figure in the driver's seat already. I stopped, taking in a few discreet breaths as I tried to calm my suddenly racing heart, my hands suddenly clammy. Still, I managed to push my legs forward, managing to make it to the passenger's seat.

I muttered a small salaam on instinct, not knowing what to say as I eased into the seat, closing the door behind me while I placed the cooler beside my legs. He responded, but it was low—just like whenever he tends to speak. I'm earnestly wondering whether his mouth doesn't ache from not talking at all—or when he does, from speaking low.

I kept my lips sealed though, daring not speak when there's this eerie silence that settled upon us. Wordlessly, he pulled out of the driveway and made his way out of the house and onto the road. I didn't give him the address, but he didn't ask as well. Judging from the lane  he took though, he seems to already be aware. Perhaps, Ya Mama told him already.

Regardless, I sank back in the seat and turned my head around, staring at the streets we pass while pretending as if his cologne isn't one of the best things I've ever scented. Just like in Maiduguri, that scent welcomed me, and it's honestly taking everything in me to not speak and say, 'Comrade, what is the name of this your perfume ne? I love it quite a lot'.

Too much, right? Yeah, I should just keep that thought to myself.

Perhaps, it was the smooth driving, or I just have too much thoughts on my mind, but before I realize it, he was parking outside my house, not making an attempt to go in. I blinked, then sat up, reaching down to pick the cooler.

"Thank you for driving me back," I said, my hand moving to open the door and step out, willing myself to be as far away from the man as possible. I did not even look at him, I don't want to.

However, just as my hand wrapped around the handle, and I was seconds away from unlocking it, his voice came, startling me.

"One question..." His voice was raspy, but it was clear. He didn't grumble out the words like he wasn't willing to have any type of conversation, it was just the right level of tone to speak to someone.

Surprised, I turned around, my gaze falling on him while my brows cinched together. "Huh?" What could he possibly want to ask?

"What you said earlier," For the third time since I've met him, he actually met my gaze, his expression showing genuine curiosity. "Why am I not your type anymore?"

Ladies and gentlemen, I died right there.

****

Toh Adananu haka ake 😂 just pretend you didn't hear ANs let us save face now😂 what will Saadatu do now?

What will you do if you were in her shoes? Embarrassment for kill person😂😂😂

How are we supposed to answer this? And my man can talk Ashe 😂 alright werey

Do you lots are waiting for his pov? Don't worry it will come amma ba yanxu ba. Anticipate it though because we will get his side of the whole thing.

Bro my eyes are dropping as I'm typing this. Sleep no one let me type again. Take care y'all and comment!!!

Love, Jannah Mia❤️