HIS PROTECTIVE JEALOUSY

★★★★★

HANNAN

My phone started to buzz in my clutch. I stood up and moved away from them, out of the hall to answer Bola's call. By the time I got out of there, the phone had stopped ringing. To avoid the noise, I decided to stroll far away from the place. I was going to call her back once I got to the poolside, but a voice came from behind and startled me a little. It was Imran, he was smiling lightly.

"So you thought you could escape?" He said in a playful tone. I didn't return the smile. I stared at him with my large eyeballs. It was at this moment that I finally took in his appearance. He wore a blue kaftan and matching trousers with a fine fulan, similar to the one his brother wore.

"Gaskiya! You scared me."I ignored his question and let him know that I didn't appreciate his sneaking up on me like that. I hoped my tone delivered the message. I noticed his expression instantly turned apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." He said calmly.

"It's okay," I mumbled. I wasn't sure if he heard me. I didn't care for any more of the lasting mundane conversations we shared with Salma at the table. The only thought that ran through my mind was, 'Why did Bola call me?'

I stood there, looking anywhere but him, hoping that he'd go away so that I could call her back. But he wasn't looking like he'd let me out of his sight. It was already bad enough that I was still a bit mad at him even though we just reconciled. I wished I could tell him to go away. He looked like he was fighting an internal battle himself when I looked at him.

"Hannan,"He called, taking steps closer. My heart skipped at our proximity to each other. The memory of what happened at the garden, the last time I allowed him to come this close to me played in my head and I found myself taking a few steps back.

"Wait Hannan," He stopped me with a raise of his hands, coming even closer, his movement deliberate and measured. "Do I make you uneasy?"

"No, what makes you think so?" I asked with knitted eyebrows, sensing that he was about to say something significant as I watched him hold his breath for a brief moment.

"Never mind," He shook his head, his voice steady but thick with emotion. The words felt almost weightless in my ears, yet they carried the gravity of his intentions, just the way the intensity of his feelings, reflected in his rich hazel eyes. I have known Imran long enough to know what he was about to say next as he stood inches from me.

"Hannan," Imran began. Our gaze locked and I couldn't look away because there was something meaningful in the way his eyes held mine. "I have known you for years now, and I have waited long enough until this very day..." I stared wide-eyed, a gasp escaped from my mouth and I held my hands up to stop him from completing the sentence. I couldn't let him propose to me there, not this way. But he insisted on letting him finish.

"I have waited long enough and I can't keep pretending like you don't affect me. I really like you, a lot. "He spoke the words ever so calmly and I paused for a moment, rubbing my arm with my gaze fixated on the floor. Those words were too heavy for me to digest. They sunk in a part of me I never knew existed. Unable to look up at him, I heard him say, "I wanted to put an end to all of this before it's too late. It's the reason I came to talk to you before taking any action."

I felt a sudden surge of nervousness taking over my body. It was not as if I was not aware of his feelings toward me long before now. It was just that I never thought of a day that he'd confess them to me. This was not the right moment, definitely not the right place at all. It was disturbing that I didn't know how to respond to his request. More disturbing was the fact that my body was there but my soul was someplace else.

"If I came to your house to ask for your hand in marriage, would you agree to marry me?" He asked, bringing me out of my troubled thoughts. Hush fell upon us with the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air like a thick cumulonimbus cloud. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of my heartbeat which was louder than the echoing silence surrounding us.

He stared at me, expectantly as I struggled for answers. I could tell my silence was killing him as well. "Er, Hannan, I'm sorry, if I...took you unaware." I could hear the vulnerability in his voice. I took a deep breath, still feeling tongue-tied.

I stepped forward, getting cold feet at the thought of what I was about to say when I finally found my voice.

"Imran, this is so unexpected..."I could barely hear myself. "I need a moment to process this." I slowly lifted my gaze to look up at him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. He nodded quietly, his expression, a mixture of relief and hope.

"Of course, take your time." He rubbed his hands against each other, in an attempt to hide his anxiety." I'm sorry if I embarrassed you with this."He said awkwardly, casting his gaze down and I did the same.

"No, it's fine, I just need some time to think about it." I lied because I already had my answer. My heart was racing with different emotions, each battling for dominance. Yes, I liked Imran too. I had always had a soft spot for him because of his kindness, his unwavering support, and his ability to put a smile on my face, even in my darkest days. He was perfect, almost too perfect for me. The thought scared me that maybe I would say no. I was nineteen and still in university. I didn't know beans about marriage and being a responsible parent. I was not ready to fulfill half of my religion and take on those great marital responsibilities yet.

"Hannan,"Someone called my name. I looked behind Imran to find Zainab, stepping out of the hotel. "I've been looking for you."She was wearing a worried expression as she ambled our way. Something was wrong. "Where is Umma?" Her tone was urgent.

"What is it?" My heart skipped upon noticing the agitated energy, oozing from her."Is something wrong?"I asked when my phone started ringing again.

"I just received a call from Bola. She said Yaya is in a critical condition." My heart was in my throat as I gathered my skirt and hurried past Imran, breathing my next words like someone whose house was on fire," What happened to Teslim?"

"Please, pick up your phone." She pointed at things I held. I had almost forgotten that I had a ringing phone in my hand. With shaking hands, I slid my thumb across the screen to connect with the caller whose displayed name happened to be my sister's.

"Hannan! What is wrong with you?" A very enraged Bola barked at me from the other end. "Why aren't you picking up your calls? Where did you drop your phone?" And like a mad dog in search of her missing puppy, her frustration was expressed in those questions, which I could not give a rational answer to.

"Calm down, please. How is Yaya?" My heart was beating out of my chest as I thought of the possibility of my sister being rushed to the hospital.

"She's here with me. We are on our way to the hospital. She's bleeding. I boarded Uber when you all refused to pick up your calls!" She didn't realize it but she was screaming at me.

"Subhan Allah!" I gasped, catching a shallow breath as I brought my hands to cover my mouth. What happened to my sister? I wanted to scream before I felt someone tapping my shoulder. I turned around to face Imran.

"What is it?" He had asked when the call suddenly disconnected, the last thing I heard was, "I'll call you back with my phone once we get to the hospital."

"It's Teslim," I told Imran. "My sister is in a critical condition and she'd been rushed to the hospital." I saw Imran's expression turn into shock.

"What?" He swallowed." What happened to her?"

"I don't know ooo" I was casting about like a lost ship, in the middle of the ocean with no shore in sight. "I need to find my mother," I said, all roads leading to the wedding hall as I gathered a fistful of my gown.

Dashing away, I could hear Zainab's clacking heels and Imran's footsteps behind me as they tried to match up with my pace. We entered the hall through the extra door at the back. My eyes kept glancing at my mother who was in a warm discussion with Zayn's mother. I wondered what they were talking about. She seemed kind of disturbed. Did she already know? After talking for a few more minutes, I saw Zayn's mother standing up to join the other women on stage. With quick steps, I approached my mother, blocking her before she stood up as well.

"Mama, have you heard?" I asked once I stood in front of her. She grabbed Teslim's son, Jaseem, and ignored me. I frowned and asked her once again but she wouldn't speak to me. And unfortunately, just then we heard the groom's family had been invited to the dance floor. This was the moment we were all supposed to join Aunty Fatima to dance with the bride along with the other women from our family. In a normal situation, I would be excited at that moment. Seeing Ahmad up close with his new wife would have been pleasing to watch but my sister's condition had us all worked up to panic.

We all stared at my mother who was packing up her stuff from the table and putting them into her bag. Imran came to my side, asking if my mother was okay. I replied over my shoulder, telling him I didn't know what was wrong with her. She seemed to be muttering a silent prayer under her breath.

After she was done packing, she ordered me and Zainab to follow her out. I took Jaseem from her and asked again if she knew what had happened but she shushed me and resumed reciting her adhkar. This was when I was going to prove stubborn and demand to know where we were going but Aunty Fatima arrived and took the words straight out of my mouth. My mother gave an excuse that Teslim was unwell and that we would be leaving for the hospital. Auntie wanted to come along with us but my mother urged her to stay back and attend to her guests.

She left and it took me a moment to notice that Imran had disappeared as well. We followed behind my mother. I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to Salma and Kulthum because they were nowhere to be seen. We were about to walk out of the hall when I glanced back at my aunt. She approached her son with a worried look and I knew at once she was going to tell Ahmad.

By the time we got to the parking space, Mama Bola was already behind the wheel, waiting for us. My mother got in the car, taking the passenger's seat while Zainab and I sat with the kids in the backseat. An excruciating silence lapsed in the air as Mama Bola drove us out of the hotel premises. For once, Jaseem and Yaseerah stayed put without throwing a fit or making trouble with each other. I reckoned they were both tired from playing all day. I learned that they had been with other kids their age. The children's party was organized for them in a smaller hall which was why I hadn't seen them the entire time. We didn't talk until we arrived at the hospital.

*****

"Where is my daughter?" My mother's voice was heavy and thick with sentiment as she hurried toward Bola who was standing idly in one of the spacious hospital passageways.

She was dumbstruck when she saw the horrific look on my mother's face. "She was taken to the emergency unit."She pointed at a private room, adjacent to where she stood. "The doctors are attending to her."

"Me ya same ta(What happened to her?)" Mama Bola asked when she finally caught up with them. Zainab winced passed me, pulling and dragging Jaseem along with her while I was lagging, mostly because I was carrying a sleeping child. Yaseerah's heavy weight on my shoulder made it difficult to hurry after them. So I moved as fast my bones could carry me despite being slow and unable to breathe properly.

"We were watching a TV show when she stood up and helped herself to the bathroom. I heard her scream and when I rushed to check up on her, she said she felt a seizure of pain in her lower back. And then...and then that was when I saw blood dripping from her thighs."Bola stuttered for the first time since I had known her. Her eyes, usually so steady and sharp, were now a storm of vulnerable emotions. She had her hands over her mouth now, the look in her eyes telling us that she was not done talking as I came over to stand behind my mother. Yaseerah's heavy body weighed less than the heavy truth we were about to be told. All I could think of was 'Her baby!' I hoped it didn't affect her unborn child.

Umma moved in front of Bola at the sight of her being hesitant to finish her narration. Impatiently she held her by her shoulders."Tell me, what happened to my baby?"She demanded, her voice cracking with every syllable.

Bola perched back on the wall, almost sinking to her knees as tears came streaming down her cheeks. She looked from her mother to mine before she uttered her next words."Upon seeing the blood, Teslim looked down at herself, and the next thing I knew she collapsed to the floor."

"Innaa lillahi wa innaa ilaihi rajiun!" My mother dropped to her knees, wailing like my sister was gone. A gut-wrenching feeling gripped my heart and I slowly found myself crouching down beside her, my words hanging in my throat. I didn't know how to tell her to pull herself together as I equally couldn't feel anything but pain and sorrow. The memory of the past all came rushing back to me. This was not happening again! I thought we had gone past this phase of our lives.

Mama Bola hurried to Umma's side, pulling her to herself. "Haba Hajiya, don't do this in front of the children. Ki kwanta da hakalin ki (calm down)" She made an effort to console my mother who was now quiet with pressed lips. I assumed it was the silence before the storm as she fought so hard to hold herself together.

"My daughter..." Umma whispered, nodding and pointing at the emergency room as her eyes brim with unshed tears."She is in there!" She screamed, making Yaseerah stir up. Her voice might have startled the little one. I gently helped her to stand on the floor while she was still feeling dazed and partially awake. Zainab swiftly pulled her back and collected her into her arms while I turned away to face my mother.

"Umma calm down, nothing will happen to her, In Sha Allah." I hadn't realized I had been crying myself until I felt something warm and wet under my chin. I clenched my jaws to hold back my tears as I wiped away the already falling one with the back of my hand.

"She is still with us, Hajiya. You can't lose hope, you need to stay strong because she needs you by her side now, more than ever."Mama Bola made to pull her up, reaching to her arms but all efforts to no avail. My mother wouldn't budge, she sat rooted on the hospital floor. I could feel the coldness of the tiles under my feet. When did I take off my heels? My memory seemed to fail me as I barely recalled that I had walked all the way from the parking lot barefoot, leaving my heels in the car.

"February again?" Umma looked at me, our eyes locked and I'd be lying if I said I didn't know what she meant by that question. I could read her thoughts, and how she internally recounted the painful events. It was a day like this, February 27th, twenty years ago when she lost her only son, my brother, whom I never got the chance to meet. My mother would tell us about that terrible night when she woke up in the labor room only to find a lifeless baby cradled next to her.

"That was not my child." She would say. "I know my son,"Her words were always so assertive, like she believed someone had stolen her baby and replaced it with a lifeless one. "Did they not think I'd find out? How stupid they were to think that a mother would not recognize the fruit of her loins." She would cry, swearing at the hospital staff and their mismanagement. Sometimes she would blame herself for sleeping off and not being vigilant enough.

Years went by, she told the same story until realizing she had come to accept her fate, having trust in Allah to protect her true son wherever he was. But fate games didn't stop there. In this same month, February 15th, death swept the only man she had ever loved off his feet and buried him six feet under the ground.

And then three years later, there went my only sister, battling with her life, the only barrier between us, a concrete wall. Who knew what would become her fate in the nearest instant? If not we believed in Qadr and had become comfortable with the events, good or bad. It would have been fair to just label this month a cursed one for our family.

I came back to reality when Mama Bola spoke from beside me."No no no Hajiya, we can't keep living in the past. Teslim doesn't need you to worry about the past." Her voice was firm yet tinged with sadness. "All she needs now is your prayers. Aren't you the one who always preached 'Tawwakul (Trust in God)? This is when you need to show that strength. We pray that Allah help us out of this situation." She finished saying and gestured for me to help her pull my mother up.

I nodded and as I tried to move, I saw my mother pick herself up with ease. She dusted her clothes and wiped her tears. "Alhamdulillah alaa kulli haal! (All praises to Allah in every situation)" She said as if remembering what the older woman said was true.

Amazed at Umma's action, Mama Bola smiled with tearing eyes and her lips trembling uncontrollably. "Allahumma Bareek, this is how you respond to this type of situation...with courage." My mother nodded at her speech before turning to Bola.

"Inaa Fahad (Where is Fahad?)" She asked, making me remember that someone was missing in our midst. I stood up as well, glancing around to see if the little one was around somewhere.

"He was sleeping when we left," Bola responded.

"I'll go home and check on him," Zainab suggested, stepping forward. That was when I saw Jaseem, staring at the scene in front of him, clueless about the condition his mother was in. He looked like he was fascinated by the sight of crying adults.

"Quickly take the kids home as well." Mama Bola handed her car keys to her daughter. "And make sure you prepare something before you return. It's getting late and Hajiya Umma has not eaten anything since afternoon." Zainab nodded and collected the keys, then she shifted Yaseerah to the other side of her shoulder.

A couple of minutes later, I noticed the atmosphere around us had changed, everyone seemed to be looking at something behind me. I heard some footsteps and I turned to see the ones who had arrived. The solemn expression they all wore as they matched toward us with an air of significance. It was Dr. Hassan, Imran's father who was leading the way, to his right was his elder son, and behind them was Imran.

My gaze flickered to his left and I saw Ahmad. Did he leave his wife at the occasion or was the wedding over? He had slipped off his babban riga, holding it in one hand, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His face was etched with concern, possibly fear but there was something in his dark eyes that reminded me of Earth when it stormed. He was disoriented.

With each step they took toward us, the walls of the hospital seemed to get smaller, creating a dim cocoon around us that was almost suffocating me. My period cramps had returned and with each passing second, the ache was more intense than the last. The air around us was thick with sentiment and the regular antiseptic smell of the hospital wasn't helping my situation. Suddenly I felt the urge to throw up.

"Hannan, you don't look fine. Are you okay?" Zainab asked me when she saw me holding my tummy and bending over as I resisted the urge to retch.

"I'm feeling nauseous," I figured that I needed to get out of there before I threw up on myself in front of everyone. My body needed to be somewhere else other than there but I couldn't leave my mother and go home. As I sensed Ahmad and the others drawing near us, I adjusted my abaya and turned on my heels, taking the opposite direction.

Zainab asked if she could come with me, I told her no that I'd be fine. All I needed was to find the nearest restroom. Striding away with quick steps, I heard everyone exchanging greetings and addressing Imran's father most respectfully. I couldn't care less if they had seen me leaving. The further I went, the more the murmur of the others faded into the background.

When I got to the dead end of the corridor, I thought I was doomed until a nurse appeared from nowhere and showed me the way to the ladies. She took me back to one of the rooms I had passed by earlier and a part of me was left wondering how I did not see what was written boldly above the door. The nurse was kind enough to give me a menstrual pad and slippers when I requested.

*****

Once I got back from the bathroom, I couldn't find my mother and the others where I had left them. I was still feeling nauseous despite throwing up twice. I wanted to call them, then I remembered that I had left my phone in Mama Bola's car.

"Hannan?" Someone called me and when I turned around, I saw Imran standing there, his eyes, a shade of brown that resembled the colour of desert sand. Relief washed over me the moment my eyes laid on him.

"I'm sorry I left without notice. I went to get my phone and my car keys and by the time I returned, you were gone." He clarified. I was quiet even though I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to explain anything.

"Umm...I brought you water and avomine." He extended a sealed bottled water and a tablet to me. I stared at him, hesitant to move. I couldn't help wondering how he knew I was feeling sick.

"Oh, don't worry, no need to feel embarrassed. I thought I saw you telling Zainab you wanted to throw up." Did he read my lips? I stared at him, deep in thought. Where did he get that drug? And how did he know what it was used for?

"This hospital belongs to my dad so I know my way around." He answered my questions as if reading my thoughts.

"Thank you," I simply said as I collected it and subsequently took two pills from it, unsure if that was the normal dose for adults. Imran unscrewed the bottle and aided me to drink from it. I could feel my limbs shaking.

"Are you okay?" He asked, watching me as I swallowed severally to prevent myself from throwing up.

"I still feel like vomiting," I retched soundlessly.

"It's okay, relax. It will take a short while for the drug to take its effect." He said calmly. I slouched, looking at the ground in front of me until I realized the distance between us had become smaller. I was thinking about the way Imran had proposed to me earlier. I knew it didn't feel right that I had always thought of him as the brother I never had, yet a part of me wanted us to be more than just friends, but a bigger part of me was not ready for any commitment. How would he feel if I rejected his proposal?

"Hey, look at me,"I was getting lost in my thoughts again but his voice kept bringing me out of the abyss of my mind. "Stop crying,"I hadn't realized I was shedding silent tears until I felt the touch of his thumb on my cheek, wiping my tears away. "Your sister will be fine. You have to be strong." His touch was gentle and warm against my skin. I wanted to move away as I thought he might have crossed the threshold of the barrier between us, but he slid an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his chest, stopping me from turning away and I just gave in, feeling too weak to slip out of his hold.

"Promise me you'll stop crying."His voice was soothing as he murmured against my veil. I knew it was wrong to feel comfortable in his arms but because it was Imran it felt just right. For once I stopped being embarrassed and allowed myself to sob quietly into his shirt.

I was feeling overwhelmingly sentimental. I didn't know if it was because of my sister or because of Imran. He had always been kind to me and I felt indebted to him for always turning up when I needed him the most. I didn't know how he'd perceive me if I rejected his proposal. I knew it was unrealistic to think of but I doubted if anyone would ever love me the way Imran did.

ZAYN

The doctor who had attended to Teslim said that she had lost a lot of blood and that she'd be given a blood transfusion. But something was delaying the process! She had a rare blood type. Rh-null people can only accept blood from people with the Rh-null blood type. Zayn knew there was only one person who had her blood type. It was his younger brother. His father had asked him to fetch Imran, fast before her condition became worse. So he did as he was told and left the room. He was throwing long strides along the left wing of the passageway when something caught his attention, making him stop dead in his tracks.

The sight in front of Zayn made his heart shriveled painfully. How his brother secured a protective arm around her waist, how his chin brushed against her veil, how he engulfed himself around her delicate form as though he didn't want her to break, and how he shut his eyes in the process, much like there was something strong going on between the both of them. They were so close together, awfully and uncomfortably close to behold and Zayn had a feeling he'd not forget that memory in a hurry.

They were not even married yet and this was what he was rewarded with the minute he decided he'd consider her. He thought maybe it was not too late to just tell his father that he was no longer interested in the deal. This was the second time she had hurt his pride just that very day. He had seen her earlier when he was going to get on the elevator. The dress she wore! 'Audhubillah! It was hard to accept the fact that the woman he intended to marry would be seen dressed like that.

Zayn cleared his throat which earned their attention. He saw them pull away from each other and turned to face him, looking as though they were caught stealing meat from their mother's pot. They didn't know he had been standing there all the while. He had seen it all and it was enough! Enough to damage his already ruined mood.

"Imran!" He summoned him with a gesture of his hand. Imran nodded in response, looking over at Hannan before stepping away from her and walking up to Zayn, unable to look his brother in the eyes.

Hannan on the other hand, was begging the ground to open and swallow her because apparently there was nowhere to hide her face. It was shameful that she had allowed Imran, a non-mahram, to embrace her. More shameful was the fact that his elder brother saw them together and he knew it was frowned upon. How many more times would she continue to tarnish her own image before him? And she wondered if anything could ever change his unsightly impression of her after what he had just seen.

Zayn was walking away followed by Imran when he stopped halfway across the corridor. He turned toward her and his eyes slowly went over her body and leveled a stare on her frail face. Something about his eyes made her shiver. Good thing, she was wearing an abaya now. But had she been crying? Those swollen eyes of hers looked bigger than he remembered. That shouldn't bother him, he inwardly scolded himself, tossing the thought aside.

"You," He was talking to her but she refused to meet his gaze."Won't you come along?" She stood still, unable to form words. The awkwardness got thicker on her end. But Zayn refused to see it that way. He didn't like to repeat his words twice. If she decided to be stubborn and not respond to him, so be it.

He turned on his heels and was surprised to hear her footsteps behind them. Even with the slippers she was wearing, he could still hear her loud steps. How graceless she was, he thought to himself.

*****

Outside the operating theatre, Ahmad found his mother-in-law seated on a metal banquette, draped in a long veil, her hands placed neatly on her lap. He could see her fingers moving in silent adhkar, a habit of hers he was accustomed to during his days of staying with them in Kano. They exchanged greetings and he sat next to her, his mind, a whirlwind of guilt and negative emotions.

He hadn't been checking up on Umma like he used to, since they relocated, not even after he sent her daughter back home. No! She moved out on her own. Still, he would have called every day to at least say the salaam to them but he never did. Well, maybe once or twice but that wasn't enough. He was ashamed of his behaviour toward the woman who had done nothing but raise him and the woman he was in love with. Yet her kindness was rewarded with his large male ego.

He shouldn't have let Teslim go, he would have begged her to stay even if it meant dropping to his knees and soaking her feet with his tears. But when it was time to show how much he truly loved her, pride got in the way and he'd rather let her stroll out of his life than chase her. And now she was lying in that hospital bed and there was nothing he could do to save her or make her feel better.

Much to his guilt was the fact that he left his newly wedded wife at the reception the moment he learned that his dearest had been hospitalized. What kind of a man had he turned to? One who hurt the women around him without even realizing it. He'd have to go back and apologize to Hanifah but not until he made sure Teslim's life was out of danger.

Hafsah looked at her son-in-law. His eyes were closed, and his head hung low, probably praying to God to grant his wife shifa (healing). Ahmad sat there, reminiscing the good moments of their lives when the only thoughts that occupied his mind were those of Teslim and her beauty. Times had changed to the point where he never noticed that hours had passed and still counter, yet Teslim was still in the theatre.

Zayn came to him and requested that they meet in Dr. Ali Khan's Office. The said doctor was an Indian oncologist and a bone marrow expert who had taken it upon himself to see to her treatment and ensure her recovery. He had been on it for more than a month since he first met the patient. He felt like she was a special case and she would be treated as such.

Some minutes later, they were in the doctor's office and sitting across his desk after exchanging greetings and handshakes. Without wasting any seconds of their time, the doctor began,"The blood transfusion is in progress and your wife is out of danger now."

He placed his intertwined hands on the table in front of him and watched as Ahmad threw an innocent glance at the man seated by his right; Zayn, a man of few words yet clear emotions, gave a subtle nod, his eyes reflecting apprehension. He always knew eventually Ahmad was going to find out but not this way. Did Teslim think the doctors here were playing her game?

"She will be conscious within a couple of hours."Dr. Khan sighed and continued,"But she had a ruptured fallopian tube due to her ectopic pregnancy, so we conducted a laparotomy to remove the ruptured tube." Ahmad was stunned by the news. He kept staring agape at the doctor, realizing then that his wife had been in the family way. However, the doctor explained that it was as a result of the excess loss of blood that shocked her into losing consciousness. Ahmad did not know that he was yet to hear the worst.

"There is something else you need to know." Ahmad said nothing despite being deeply crestfallen."Your wife has stage 2 blood cancer." Zayn noticed how Ahmad's shoulder dropped, he looked like the doctor had slapped him across the face with the news. Something tightened in Ahmad's chest and he sat up.

"My wife? Teslim? How?" He turned to face his friend for an explanation, still finding it hard to digest the news. Zayn advised him to stay calm and listen to the doctor first.

"The good thing is that it has not spread to the lymph nodes so there is a high chance it can be cured," Dr. Khan proceeded, telling him that urgent treatment was required to prevent it from spreading to other tissues. He also recommended that four cycles of chemotherapy and a radiotherapy session might suffice to ensure the destruction of the cancerous cell. There may be no need for a stem cell transplantation, the doctor assured him.

*****

10:30 pm

Getting out of the office, silently, Ahmad walked back and planted his backside on the banquette he once vacated, wondering if Umma was aware of what he had just been told. For some reason, he had a strong conviction that Teslim knew, yet she kept it from everyone—an oddity that left him questioning the depth of their bond. Had their relationship become so weak that it couldn't stand the test of time along with the crucible of conflict?

Why did she hide such a huge secret from everyone? Ahmad buried his face in his palms and placed his elbows on his knees. His anger spread like a virus but his sadness kept getting in the way. He fought so hard to contain the pool of sentiments coursing through his blood. Infuriated at the same time disappointed, he stood up and walked away without saying a word to his mother-in-law. That was the moment Zayn came out of the doctor's office as well.

He arrived at Hafsah's bench and found that she had been talking to Hannan. He wanted to ask for Ahmad's whereabouts but first, he needed to know why she was scolding her daughter like that.

"Me ya faru (What happened?)" He asked, making Hannan turn away, avoiding his eyes.

"Ba komai (nothing)" Her mother answered with a small frown."It's just that she is being stubborn. She doesn't want to go home. If she had left when I asked her to, Hajiya Maryam and Bola would not have left her."

"Haba, mama it's already late. How can you tell me to enter the road by this hour? It's almost eleven fah." She paused and looked at Zayn and noticed his firm expression as he regarded her. "Besides I can't leave you here."She added, looking away from him and fixing her eyes on the wall.

He cleared his throat, understanding the situation before him."Alright, I'll take her home." Zayn surprised himself by volunteering to see that she got home safely. But he wanted her mother to go home as well. He didn't want both the mother and daughter to sleep over at the hospital. He figured it would be quite uncomfortable for them. Teslim was still unconscious and Ahmad was willing to stay with her until she regained consciousness, possibly sleeping over. And if she needed anything, the nurses were well-equipped and trained to take care of her.

"Amma, you will have to come with us, Umma." He turned to Hafsah, the look in her eyes telling him that she didn't want to leave the hospital without her older daughter.

"I'm not leaving," She shook her head, vehemently. Zayn gave a soft sigh and squatted near the older woman. He gently held her hands in his, caressing it to earn her attention. His action surprised Hannan, she couldn't imagine Zayn being so kind and soft-hearted toward her mother. Was it just her or there was a certain way he treated the older women? He was very soft with them. He looked at her mother with loving eyes, the same way he looked at his grandmother.

"Umma, please you have to go home." He uttered, making Hannan throw her gaze to the side so she didn't have to look at them. She heard her mother refuse his request for the third time.

After so much pleading, Zayn realized that he was only wasting his energy because the older woman refused to give in. He gave a sigh of defeat and stood up, understanding now who the girl inherited her stubbornness from because her father he knew too well was never like that.

He turned to face Hannan and beckoned her with a slight hand gesture, bidding her to lead the way. Hannan didn't want to leave either but she didn't know if it was the way he looked at her that made her want to obey him. She gave him a genuine smile, a bit surprised at his politeness, a side of him she had just discovered.

After telling her mother goodbye with a hint of hesitance, she moved ahead of him.

They walked together along the passageway accompanied by no one but a stiff silence. She doubted if he realized it, their pace was in sync with each other. She tried to move with muffled steps that matched his quiet ones. She didn't know how to walk like that, without making any sound.

"Do you always walk like that?" She broke the silence. He turned sideways to look at her, amazed at her intrusiveness. It never crossed her mind that he might find her question intrusive.

"How do you mean?" He didn't know why he answered her but he was interested to know where her thoughts were leading. He allowed himself to study her features. For the third time that day, he noticed her large puffy brown eyes and long lashes which were almost the same colour as her hair that he had accidentally seen once. He took note of her average height and slender body, recollecting how she used to be fat when she was much younger.

"Your footsteps, you're right next to me but they are barely audible." She commented, her eyes glancing briefly at his shoes. He didn't know why he wanted to smile at her statement and the reality of the situation they were in. Who would have thought that the girl his brother was in love with was the one who had been destined for him?

"I'm in the habit of moving without making any sound." He knew he should look away and focus his attention on something else, but looking at her now. He could vividly visualize how his brother's hand had wrapped around her tiny waist. This wasn't something he should naturally be jealous about because he knew they were siblings by birth. But just the mere thought of it did things to his heart that made him want to look back on his decision. It hurt his pride to see them so intimate.

"You have the quietest steps I have ever heard." She gave him a sincere appraisal, sending him a small smile which kind of surprised him.

"Oh! I'm not too thrilled about this."Zayn replied, not wanting to keep the conversation going anymore. He could feel her uneasiness when she spoke beside him. It led him to wonder if she was trying to go out of her way to make light conversation with him or if she was just being generous with compliments.

As for Hannan, there was something about the scent of his perfume that tightened the knots in her stomach. She believed he had got this intensity about him. He seemed a little intimidating. But then, the small kindness he had shown her that night made her want to change her opinion about him. At least he had some good in him.

On their way home, Zayn kept asking if she was alright upon seeing her looking sick all of a sudden. Not like she was exactly fine earlier. He could feel something was going on with her as she sat next to him in the front seat. He even stopped by a restaurant to buy her dinner. All those, he did out of pity and nothing special. Although he felt if they were going to start something in the first place, he should start by earning her trust since she already hated him.

Hannan had a feeling that it might just be the longest thirty-minute ride of her life. She struggled to decipher this new side of Zayn she never thought existed. He was suddenly being kind to her. Then her mind strayed somewhere and she flushed with embarrassment. She was concerned that Zayn might still be upset with her after what she had done.

Her mind wandered around Imran and his proposal, realizing then that it was not only her sister she had to worry about but Imran as well. He had been the one to donate blood to Teslims. She couldn't shove all those feelings down her gut even if she wanted to. So she leaned into her seat, shut her eyes closed, and said a little prayer for both of them. She made a mental note to go and thank him first thing the next morning.

★★★★★

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