Fatima with the sauce and ginger💃🏿

ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.

Fatima awoke the next morning all tired and fatigued but it didn't dampen her mood even a little knowing she's a few miles away from Ahmad and if she goes there this time around, he will be awake. Adda mama messaged her that he is awake and they can come any moment. She's prayed fajr earlier then read the message, it took heaviness and dizziness to get her back to bed because she wanted to go there before the sun rise. But now that she feels a little better, she can go there and harangue him for worrying her the whole of yesterday.

She yanked the duvet off of her and stalked to the bathroom with more sway to her steps that usual, maybe the excitement is finally getting the best of her? She shook her head and took a good shower scrubbing everywhere that needs to be scrubbed just in case something is going to happen with Ahmad. She blushed and bit her lower lip, she is one heck of a naughty abandoned wanton woman. How could she be thinking about such things when he is injured with a bullet she didn't shoot? She was supposed to shoot him.

She didn't bother going to his closet today because everything she has there is casual and she wants to dress up well today. She usually does that but today, there is just something about this Friday that she wants to make heads turn and mouths to whistle when all she wants is one man's attention. What could she wear that will take Ahmad by surprise and shock every single person that's ever encountered her? She questioned herself all the way to her room and into her walk-in closet. She couldn't come up with any answer, her head is blank.

Rummaging through the clothes Babagana ordered for her that she didn't bother checking, she started from head to bottom in search of something eye-catching and head-turning. Her brows came together when she touched something that feels ridiculously like Ankara, the whole set there is the same thing. She poke her head inside in search of the culprit and came face to face to rows of well pressed and ironed atamfah of different colors. Some of them have golden embroidery while the others have silver, her nose twisted in confusion. Did her father get her these?

She's never worn atamfah her whole life and Musa Babagana knows that, why did he buy many of them for her? Beside them are laces looking all posh and extravagant. She's never noticed that part of her closet and this is actually a very bag surprise. But a thought occurred to her, no one has ever seen her wearing it which means it is the perfect article she could wear that will make heads turn and mouths to whistle right? Ahmad will definitely be shocked and paralyzed at the sight of her looking all traditional and modern in a weird way.

It clicked, she is going to wear fine ass ankara today for the first time in her whole twenty three years. She started viewing them one after the other inside the closet, too lazy to think about bringing them out and returning them inside again as there is no Asabe to help her with it. Her eyes settled on a brown one, it's so beautiful and definitely the color that will make her skin look exquisite. That's the color then, tan. The pink ones she's seen don't look half as good as the combination of brown and navy blue, it promises a good image when done.

She yanked it off the others slowly afraid that the rest my fall of if she roughly remove it. Successfully bringing it out, she unfolded the nice pressing and surveyed it with great interest as she's never viewed ankara as something she'd wear. Had it not being for Ahmad, she wouldn't have thought about that outfit her whole life. The pattern is actually very pretty and lovely in a mature way, she'd despise seeing flower all over it for it makes them look absolutely ridiculous. There's a gentle touch of another color ranging from orange to fire, she's not sure what that is but for now, she will wear the damn clothes on.

It's sewn into a straight gown, the slits behind covered with more layers that it sweeps the floor as she walks. The upside down cape sleeves looks like it's meant for such outfit, reaching till her wrists. With the ankara, the tailor decided to drape it around her from waist to her ass, permitting a tail to reach down the floor from the sides of the drape. Just like yorubas wear something around their waist mostly during weddings so they can dance better, it looks more prettier with the drape. The way it tightened around her stomach and hips, a smile crawled it's way to her face.

She looks like a baby doll, all tightened and pretty.

Taking her phone off the vanity table, she browsed through YouTube for how to tie on ankara head tie, she found varieties of them but she chose the one that has steps leading up like stairs and opens far behind like a small fan, casual yet captivating. Done with that, she sat down to do a bit of casual makeup that include small amount of concealer, eyeliner -soft smoke, mascara and fill up her brows to a nice curve. Her face looks more pretty now hiding the few blemishes trying to take over her perfect face. She rolled her eyes at her own narcissistic comment before standing up to go through her jewelry.

Taking off her Versace Medusa stud earrings and it's matching necklace, she donned herself with it. It's actually meant for men but when she saw it on sale, she thought it was too bewitching to waste it on a man's ear and bought it for herself. She's never gotten the chance to wear it but she's got one today, she will use it. The golden color matched perfectly with her outfit hence her idea of wearing few rings from her knuckle rings to complete her look, a gold anklet is clasped against her ankle. Thinking again what she should add, she recalled how he'd stared at her septum circular barbell, she added it.

A giddy laugh escaped her mouth when she stared at herself in the full length mirror, she looks stunning and staggeringly divine. She never knew she'd look this grand in traditional wear but after this experience, she might as well start wearing them. It's just that she finds them uncomfortable and exaggerating, taking up a whole lot more attention than required.

Knowing she cannot just go around the hospital like that, the attention she'd take in ankara is far too much she doesn't want to date going with something covering her, she took a fire colored chiffon veil and drape across her shoulders, matching Gucci tote bag and Dior pumps. A few poses in the mirror and many mirror selfies later, Fatima is set to go and start making people's head meander. She went back to the room and sprayed her dolce and gabbana vanilla and lavender perfume and she is out of the room walking down the stairs with posh elegance.

A whistle startled her, she had to hold the rails to stop herself from toppling over down the rest of the stairs. Her empty hand went to her chest when she found out it's just Raheeb looking casual yet fetching in pistachio flannel shirt, slim straight jeans and Nike sneakers. She frowned, he is making her look like she's put too much effort into looking good while he is just so casual and ready to go to the hospital to see his half brother and not a wedding like she looks.

"If Ahmad hadn't first me, I would've sweep you off your feet right now, little devil." He gave an appreciative glance again from head to toe then settled on her face, she is still frowning. "Why are you frowning now like an old woman?"

She landed on the last stair step before deciding to answer him. "Why does it look like I'm putting so much superfluous effort in dressing up? I'm going to do hospital." She started turning around to go and change when his arms stopped her, getting ahold of her wrist before she could take the first step.

"C'mon, when did what people think started bothering you, Fatima Musa Babagana?" His question is genuine and ladened with curiosity as if he wants to know the answer to that.

Still frowning, she scowled at herself because he is right. She is Fatima Musa Babagana, nothing ever bothers her except what she wants. Why the sudden change of heart? And so what if people think she looks like she is going to a wedding instead of going to see her husband in the hospital? She sighed and turn around, her expression saying it all. "I don't care actually, let's hit the road."

A slow grin took over his facial features. "That's my girl! Now let's go and feed you first before we head to the hospital." He dragged her to the dining table where he's served one plate, it means he's eaten his own. He's made pasta nicoise which she finished in less than five minutes, reapplied her lip gloss and she is ready.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Raheeb laughed at his own rhetorical question before taking a basket from the kitchen which she hasn't noticed earlier. At her questioning eyes, he inserted an answer. "I thought I should make more for Ahmad and mom."

"Thank God you both are here with food, I was starving." Adda mama stood up from the couch where she is quietly reading from a magazine, Ahmad nowhere in sight, Fatima frowned. "He is in the bathroom." Adda mama answered before she could talk, she turned around to look at the woman with sheepish smile.

"Good morning, Adda mama. How was your night?" She trudged inside, placed her bag on the couch her aunt was occupying and sat down cross legged.

Adda mama eyes Fatima from head to toe then raise a brow asking about the sudden change, it only got her a shrug from Fatima because there is no answer about the sudden change. Or she should open her mouth and be like "Oh Aunt, I wanted to impress my half handicapped husband" she laughed in her head picturing Adda mama's expression. Calling her son handicap in an oppressive manner? She'd be inside that basket as meat.

Ahmad walked out of the bathroom just then in nothing but joggers that hang low around his waist. Fatima held back any form of reply as she stared after him till he sits himself on the bed without any limp, only a wince when he sat down on the bed. He didn't regard anyone in the room, not even her which aroused a thick scowl on her face. How could he? He knew about their presence, he sure as hell heard their voices from the bathroom but he couldn't have just mutter a simple hello? Did the bullet take over his vocal cords too and senses? Because it surely looks so.

The room was pin-drop silent, Fatima couldn't keep quiet though, she stood up from the couch her heels clicking on the tiled floor with each step. Standing beside his bed, she waited for him to raise his head and acknowledge her or at least do something that will calm her but he didn't, sat there motionless. Fatima counted from one to ten hoping that'll calm her down but it didn't work, nothing could. She's far into her anger now, she hates being ignored, oh how she loathed that. She is usually an attention seeker and she got dressed today solely for him only to end up fighting for it? Seriously?!

Not able to take it anymore, she used one of her fingers and jabbed the wound not too forcefully but not gently either. Ahmad jumped away a little from her then finally decided to look up at her with a frown but it dematerialized the second his eyes fell on her angry flushed face. An arrested expression took over his face that it made her blush and half forget about the whole reason she is angry in the first place. He looks speechless, he hasn't even surveyed her from head to toe.

She couldn't handle such strong emotions coming from him, she's suddenly too afraid. "Don't stare at me now when you were not ready to mutter a single greeting to us not because you didn't know we were here but because your senses decided to take their leave along with the flesh the bullet took away with it. And you lecture people about manners and protocols." She expressed, hovering over him like a teacher inculcating knowledge to a mutinous student. Their tables turned.

Ahmad had to blink thrice, clear his throat twice and furrow his brows before her words got influx in his head. She looks so different today. Dazzling? Enthralling? Alluring? He cannot place hand on anything but there is just something more unearthly and ethereal today about Fatima. He then look at her again and realized she is wearing ankara! Fatima Musa Babagana in ankara! And that too it looked as though it was created only for her to rock in. He gulped, he is in dead trouble now with such beauty. There is no escape now, he could feel it deep within him. He is shackled to her whether she likes it or not, they are intertwined by destiny or whatever fate it is that brought them together.

He couldn't talk, left absolutely speechless. What could he say? What had she said again? Why was she flushed and angry? Oh yes, he didn't talk to her when he came out of the toilet. He seriously thought it was only Adda mama with nurses and Raheeb as he's heard the guy's voice from the bathroom but not Fatima's. Had he known she was there, he gave a devilish smile internally, she wouldn't have asked for his attention, she'd be on his lap in pain or not.

He cleared his throat again, disregard the snicker coming from his half brother and knowing looks exchanged between his biological mother and him. He is more focused on how to get Fatima and him alone in the room. As if she's heard his silent request, Adda mama took the basket they've brought with them and drag Raheeb out with her silencing his complaints about not greeting his brother good morning.

After the door is closed behind them, his arms gently move to bring Fatima closer, releasing her folded arms underneath her bosom in process. His eyes couldn't help getting another eyeful of his pretty wife in traditional wear, something he's never thought he would see. "Who are you?" He asked instead when she sat down close to him on the bed, her feet still on the floor.

Her head whipped around to look at him to gouge whether he's seriously lost his memory or not. His wide grin, raised eyebrows, shiny eyes, playful grin and squinting eyes lit with an inner glow and twinkle gave him away. She shoot him daggers, try getting out of his arms but he only held tighter, even though a bullet passed through his flesh the day before, he is still strong as a bull.

"Release me right now." Her order fell in deaf ears, he hasn't stopped staring at her and it's making her head rush with onslaught flush.

"Why? Because you look extra dazzling today?" He nuzzled his head in her neck, hovered over the exact spot he always likes to torment all the damn time he gets her in his arms.

Fatima bit hard on her lower lip, try but failed to hold her fingers firm from scratching his head. "Why did you ignore me?" She found herself asking, her cool hands massaging his neck that earned her a frisson from the coolness of her hand or the sensuality of the touch? She doesn't know what caused that.

He raise his head from her neck, eyes fixed inside hers. "You think I could ignore you? I didn't know you were here, I swear it. Looking this angelic and inviting, you think I can just ignore you just like that? Damn you for looking this good knowing I can't have my hella evil ways with you. You are wicked." He whispered the last words in her ear, she could only grin and let out a small giggle.

"I thought your brain got tired of your perfection and left." She flirted right back, biting on his earlobe with her front teeth.

Ahmad's eyes widen at her bold daring move before he helped her adjust on the bed, her high heels at the end of it along side his naked toes. God, she looks so beautiful that his heart ache inside his rib cage. He is not just talking about the traditional outfit, it's the effort she's ladened on getting ready to come see him that makes him want to tear down the gown from neck down to her feet, taste every inch of her dark skin till she is writhing in his arms.

"Do you know how much this is torturing me right now? I want to ravish you, you imp." He wants to crush her body to his but that damn wound won't permit it, his breathing is already ragged.

Fatima turn to look at him, releasing herself from his tempting nibbles on her neck. "No one is stopping you." She giggled out loud when his expression meandered to pain, different type of pain that the one his wound can cause.

Instead of answering her, he motioned that she come closer with she did. His hands slid to either side of her face, cradling her cheeks with yearning gentleness. His eyes were so much darker than her own, with only the faintest glimmer of deepest amber to betray that they were not black but another color. "Kiss me." He whispered, and his mouth found hers, catching at her top lip and then the lower, in nuzzling half-open caresses that sent rich quivers of response all the way down to her toes. The bed seemed to move beneath her weight, and she grasped his shoulders for balance. He covered her mouth more firmly with his, the moist pressure disorienting her with a fresh shock of pleasure.

Continuing to kiss her, he helped her to wrap her arms around his neck, and caressed her shoulders and back, and when it became apparent that her legs were quivering, he closed his palms on her elbows just before a knock came on the door and Fatima jumped off the bed. More than twenty police officers stood outside the door.