I got home just in time. My so-called aunt, who I still think isn't related to me and is claiming to be my father's sister, had just arrived.

The three of us were now seated in the living room. Me on the one-seater, my Umma and my supposed aunt on the three-seater.

I was looking at the woman and I knew she could feel my eyes on her. I love it when I make people uncomfortable, especially people I do not like.

"What brings you to our humble abode, aunty Rahmatu?" I ask after a while. "Or is it the same reason as usual?"

"I came to see how my niece and sister-in-law are doing, is that a crime?" She was feigning innocence but I knew better than to look past the sly fox that she is.

"Ex sister-in-law. Whoever and wherever your brother is, is no longer married to my mother, he hasn't been for a while now in case you have forgotten." I could feel my mother's hot gaze on me but I won't acknowledge that now. If I do, she'd signal me to keep shut and I do not want to keep shut, not when this witch is here.

"Don't say that, my child. Your father was an unusual man. He did questionable things but had valid reasons."

"Yeah, sure. So what valid reason did he have for leaving his fifteen year old child and a wife who had just miscarried her baby? Tell me?" My voice was rising at this point but could you blame me though?

"Stop it, Zara!" I would have continued but the look on Umma's face said if I went on, I would sleep on the streets, so I kept shut. I waited to see if Umma would apologise for my behaviour, like she always does, but she didn't and boy did that make me so happy.

"Aunty Rahmatu, what brought you here today?" Umma asked in a more calmer tone.

"I only came to check up on you and Zara, I swear," Her face said otherwise.

"And we thank you for that." Umma said. "Go and bring refreshments."

I didn't want to, but I couldn't disobey my mother simply because I dislike this witch. So I went to get the water. As I was opening the fridge to get juice, the witch opened her mouth to speak. I could hear because the living room and the kitchen didn't have a separating wall, just a curtain.

"When will Zara get married?"

Auzubillahi! I knew that old woman was up to no good. She didn't bring up talk about my supposed father's inheritance today, I guess it's because she had another topic to discuss, and that topic is none of her God damned business.

"You know she has to get married before the year ends, koh? Or else you'll lose everything you've worked so hard to attain."

Huh? What's this woman yapping about now?

"That's what Bappa said. Remember his conditions? The ones you agreed to before stepping foot into this house? Zara turns twenty three early next year and you know he said she has to be married before that age, koh?" Aunty Rahmatu spoke so calmly, almost making me believe it wasn't her but a spirit in her place.

"Wallahi, Sadiya I am only telling you this because I don't want to see you on the streets again. Talk to Zara. Be honest with her, she's old enough to know and to understand." Aunty Rahmatu looked genuinely concerned. But I'd be a fool to fall for such an act.

I quickly put the water on a tray with a rubber cup because I wanted to and hurried to meet them in the living room.

"Here is the water," I didn't tell them that I heard them because I wanted to sit and talk with my mother when the woman was not around. I want us to have a proper conversation and I want proper explanations from her.

I went to my room to sit and wait for Aunty Rahmatu to leave. I didn't want to utter another disrespectful word.

Marriage? Me? A man and me? I don't think so. I have vowed to never fall in love again.

Love does not exist in my vocabulary. Love died the moment Abdul started to raise his hands on me. I hate love. Love sucks and love kills. I hate men more than I hate love and that is why I have made it my life's mission to see any man who comes at me, suffers.

Can you really blame me? There's my father who people are still giving excuses for and my ex-husband who abused me like I was some wild animal. Even animals don't deserve cruelty and I experienced what no animal could ever experience.

Where is my phone? I haven't laid on it today. I don't think I even left with it.

I got up and opened my vanity drawer only to see it laying there and ringing. It was silent so I could not hear. I took it and went to sit on my bed.

I unlocked the phone only to see tons of missed calls and messages from Nana and Fatoo. Fatoo is the name we call Fatima.

Sigh. Now I have to explain myself even though there is nothing to explain.

My phone, an iPhone 13 pro max, was also a gift from Nana and Fatoo. And just like the car, I've thought of selling it too. There was this one time that I even took it to Banex to look for a buyer. I wasn't in desperate need for the money or anything. I just thought of selling it and buying a smaller one. You know, managing and stuff. But the kind of insults, threats and side eyes I got from Nana, Fatoo and Umma made me stop thinking about selling all the gifts I received from them. Some of the gifts are forcefully collected because they threaten me if I don't. Even Umma.

*Ring*

A conference call from Nana, Fatoo and an Unknown number came in. I received it of course. Anything to take my mind off Umma and Aunty Rahmatu who were still in the living room discussing God knows what.

Nana: if you think I won't kill you for not answering my 57 calls, you're mistaken, you freaking witch!!

If not Nana, then who with the threats?

Zara: I deeply apologise. I have no excuse. I forgot my phone at home and left for work.

Was I being remorseful? No. Not one bit and they knew it.

Fatoo: How can a person be stupid and smart at the same time? You went to work without your phone which is stupid but you were fine because of the mental notes you make. Nice one.

Zara: Enough talk about me. Who's the new number that has been quiet?

Nana: That's Amina. The Amina who I told you about last week.

Zara: Oh. Hi, Amina.

Fatoo: Call her Mina!

Mina: Let me speak, you short thing!

I love her already.

Mina: Hello, Zara!

She sounds excited and I don't know why.

Zara: I like her

Mina: I like me too!!

Oh yeah. We're definitely gonna be good friends.

Fatoo: Nana, I told you if Mina and Zara meet, they'd be like reunited twins. You see?

I was about to speak when I heard Umma saying goodbye to Aunty Rahmatu.

Zara: Bye-bye witches. I have something to take care of.

With that I ended the call.

I drop my phone on the bed and walk out to meet Umma. She was taking a plate of food, half eaten and the tray of water back to the kitchen when I stopped her. Apparently, she gave the woman food. Wow.

The both of us were now in the kitchen. I sat on the kitchen island countertop and Umma on the Island stool.

"You can speak Umma. You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Zara," she began softly, her voice tinged with a weariness I hadn't noticed before. "I need you to listen to me and understand the situation, okay? This is serious" I nodded.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. Serious conversations had never been easy between us, especially not since my divorce. I was still raw, the wounds from my ex-husband's cruelty not fully healed. Marriage, men, love—these were all topics I had sworn off, and Umma knew it. And I don't know why Aunty Rahmatu had to bring it up.

"What is it, Umma?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and pity. I hate it, I hate being pitied, even if it's by my own mother.. "Zara, you know how we've been living in this house for all these years, how we've managed to get by..."

I nodded, not fully understanding where she was going but feeling the pit in my stomach deepen.

"This house," she continued, "it belonged to your grandfather. Your maternal grandfather. He... he gave it to us under certain conditions."

I blinked, confusion mingling with apprehension. "Conditions? Wait, leave the conditions first. This house is not ours? You aren't renting it like you said you were?" I could see the guilt and shame in her eyes.

"Yes," Umma said, her voice trembling slightly. "He said that for us to stay here, you needed to be married by the age of twenty-three."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart started to race, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. "But I was married," I said, my voice rising. "And look how that turned out!"

Umma reached out, her hand covering mine. "I know, Zara, I know. But there's more. Aunty Rahmatu just told me that your grandfather had someone specific in mind for you to marry. An arranged marriage."

I pulled my hand away, standing up abruptly. "No! No, Umma, I can't go through that again. I won't." I'll be damned if I let another man into my life again.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she stood too, reaching out to me. "Zara, please listen. I know you have this picture of your aunt being the bad guy but Aunty Rahmatu was the one who took us off the streets when we had nothing. She's the one who arranged for us to live here, who supported us when no one else would. We've been living off your grandfather's generosity all this time. Even the fuel money you receive weekly is from him."

Deception. My own Umma, who I trust with everything in me, lied to me and on such an important matter. Wow, it really do be your blood sometimes.

"So what? I have to sacrifice my life, my happiness, just because we owe him? Just because we owe my grandfather?"

Umma's voice broke as she spoke. "Zara, it's not just about us. It's about honour, about keeping our family together. Your grandfather believed this was the best way to secure your future, our future. I never agree with things when your father's side of the family are involved but I am doing this for you. Please, just consider it."

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. "I can't, Umma. I can't go through that hell again. I hate men, I hate marriage, and I hate love. They've brought me nothing but pain. I'm still traumatised, Umma."

I love tormenting and scaring men away but I fear them just as much and no one can really blame me for how I am, for I turned out.

Umma came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "I know you've been hurt, my daughter. But not everyone is like him. There are good men out there. Maybe this one is different. Your grandfather is a good man. He adores you and he is nothing like that treacherous man who left us when we needed him the most. I believe he will only do what's best for you"

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of her words and the burden of my past pressing down on me. "I don't know if I can do this," I whispered. I know I can't, but my Umma...

Do I really have to do this? What would become of us though? If my so-called grandfather is a good man, why is he doing this?

"I can see the gears in your head turning. Your grandfather is doing this for a reason and I trust him. Don't you trust me?' Emotional blackmail. It won't work if I don't want it to.

"We will figure it out together," she said softly. "Just promise me you'll think about it. For my sake. We will pray about it, Zara and In Sha Allah, we will be fine." she pulled me in for a hug.

I stood there, wrapped in her embrace, my heart a storm of conflicting emotions. How could I possibly consider marriage again after everything I'd been through? But how could I ignore the sacrifices that had brought us to this point? How could I ignore that my grandfather was the one providing for us all along? That we have been living a good life in his generosity?

"Okay, Umma," I said finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'll think about it."

If by some miracle I do accept this marriage of a thing, I won't let history repeat itself.

She hugged me tighter, and for a moment, the warmth of her love was enough to hold back the darkness threatening to overwhelm me. But it was just for a moment. A fleeting moment. 

________

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