"Hello."

She smiles at me again and settles into her seat after shaking my sweaty hands. She's been smiling a lot since I walked through the door.

"Welcome. I'd love for you to be at ease. Okay?" I nod stiffly and play with the straps of my Chanel handbag.

"What is your name?" I stare blindly over her head. The words there have struck a chord in my heart. Life isn't always going to be smooth, sometimes you'll iron the rough edges out.

Is that what I'm doing now? Ironing my rough edges? Have I been sleeping, eating, praying with such deep pain in my heart? Have I been letting the pain Nadir caused me play a huge part of my life, is it becoming an impediment to my moving forward?

She repeats her question and this time I can't feign the words flew away.

"I'm Nabeela Abdullah." After a heartbeat, I add "Hassan." She nods and jots something down.

"What do you think brought you here?" I eye her lightly, if I wasn't troubled, would I be here in cold terror.

"I lost my baby nearly three years ago and I can't seem to stop having nightmares about my ex husband." She nods and relaxes into her chair.

"Are you married again." I nod.

"Does your husband know?" I nod and shake my head at the same time.

"Yes or no?" I sigh and look at the words over her head again.

"He knows, but he doesn't know all of it." She sinks back into her seat and links her fingers.

"What doesn't he know?" I stare at her.

"He doesn't know that I have nightmares." She frowns.

"What is your sex life like?" My hands and eyes go back to my bag.

"I should assume nonexistent?" I nod timidly. I can't even remember when last I had sex.

"That's why he doesn't know?" I nod again.

She sighs and looks at her watch.

"We'll do this next week same time." She opens a drawer beside her and pulls out a bound leather book.

"I want you, Nabeela, to write all of your night mares in this book. That is assuming you have any before next week." I nod again. I seem to have lost my voice.

I put the journal into my bag and stand, eager to leave the stifling office.

Once I get into my car, I bring out my phone to text Umm Fawad about how it went. But a series of text messages and missed calls from my father stops me. I type back a message and his reply makes my heart beat faster.

I'll see you in thirty minutes.

*******

I drive into the Father's compound and put my car in park, I sit in the car still to steel myself. Nabeela, you will not be used as a rag doll that anyone can stick pins into. Not anymore.

I adjust my hijab and refresh my lip gloss before getting out of the car, I shut and locked the car with sweaty hands.

The door is open and I simply push the knob to get into the hallway. I look around, there have been little changes since my last visit. Mother is always changing one curtain or paint work in the hallway.

I walk faster to squat in front of my father. "Baba, good afternoon." He replies in Hausa and I sit on the floor, pulling the ends of my gown underneath my legs quietly.

"So, you don't even know how to come home to visit your parents after getting married. Other people say their daughters miss them but if I don't calk you, you won't even remember me." He states and I look down to my hands. What is with suddenly missing Nabeela now.

"Its not that. Work has been hectic, and I've been busy." I say and he sighs as though I said a sacrilegious thing.

"I don't even understand why you are working. The man can support you ten times over." I look at him sharply.

"That's why I've always made sure you married into money, so that you don't even feel the pinch of poverty." I sigh again and feel like there is a weight on my chest. As much as I want to feel like a good child, it doesn't seem like a  good idea to have left the therapist's and come here straight away, I could have gone to work.

"Thank you sir." I bow slightly. Thank you for putting my so called needs first.

"How is Safiyya." I purse my lips and look around the house. "She looks  exactly as Hadiza looked in those days, pretty and feisty." His eyes get this faraway look that makes me want to snap my fingers in his face to get it out.

"Safiyya is fine." I answer.

"The girl doesn't even let me talk much when I call, won't let me  send her money. Nothing." I smile in spite of myself. Go Safiyya.

He sits up in his chair and looks at me deeply. "Nabeela." I swallow.

"I need help. I need a billion naira to push my rice silo business and as you know, my business just got out of a huge meltdown so no bank wants to lend me money." I eye him lightly.

Does Nabeela look like central bank of Nigeria now? Do I look like I hold the keys to the vault?

"Baba, that is a large sum. I don't even have a tenth of it." I shake my head.

He waves his meaty left wrist as though waving a petulant child. "I wasn't asking you. Where would you get that sort of money, except Adeel give it to you. I wanted to ask you to help me convince Adeel to lend it to me." I recoil immediately.

"Baba. No." I shake my head and tsk continuously.

"What do you mean No, is it your money? All I need is for you to put in a good word for me and I'll deal with the rest. Adeel is an impressionable young man." I shake my head over and over.

"Why are you shaking your head? Once he sees my business idea, he will immediately agree. Its such a lucrative business since the federal government has banned the importation of rice." I hiss lightly.

"I said No." I jump to my feet ignoring the pain in my knees.

"What do you mean no?!!" He screams at me, I look at him, he fists his hand like a child whose favourite toy has been taken away from him.

"I mean a big fat No. No Baba. I will not be a part of this." He hisses and sits down again.

"Why do you speak as though I asked you to rob the Hassan boy. I just asked you to put in a good word for me." I hum lightly.

"I will not be a part of this." Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mother walk in. Oh, such a well thought out plan, if Nabeela doesn't agree, we'll use blackmail.

"Nabeela. Its only for a matter of time. And the Hassans have more money than they can spend anyways, so they won't even feel the pinch of a meagre billion naira." I whirl around to face my mother, she's smiling so brightly, her pepper red lipstick against her fair face is a gorgeous contrast.

"No. Both of you have run my life since forever. You've run me down, you've put me in precarious positions. Remember the two hundred and fifty million loan you took from Nadir father? He used to beat me for it." My father holds his head like I started a headache for him.

"I'm still trying to wrap the fact that my marriage to Adeel is a business deal and you bring this new so called business idea? Why father? Why won't you let me be? Why won't you and mother just stop truing to steer the ship of my life?" My mother doesn't speak.

"All I know is, I will not help you, or anyone, get money from either of the Hassans, if they give it to you, it is at their own peril. I do not care." I pick up my bag and walk back into the hallway, their voices calling my name echoes in the hallway.

As I walk to my car, I think hard. The gall of them to think they can make me do whatever they want.

******

Hi everyone 😣😔,

Sorry cannot even begin to cut it. I know I disappointed you, but school came and I just didn't have the time. Right now, I just resumed school and 😤😤, ITS TIRING.

I'll try to update on Fridays. I promise that, I'll do my very best to write and give you all the very best. I love all of you, stay blessed.

And thank you all for 20k 🤯🤩🤩😍😍😁.

TheOmoope.

(A very tired one) 😪