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"You do it" she added. "I have a husband to attend to," tilting her head as she turned her phone slightly, revealing a glowing screen. His name flashed in the notification above their pre-wedding photo. With a subtle smile, she spun on her heel and began to walk away, but not before throwing one last remark over her shoulder, her voice smooth and cutting. "Oh, and maybe switch up your perfume. Could be why you're not even worth a second look from him."

With that, Jadwa left the kitchen, her heart pounding. She made her way upstairs, her feet moving faster and faster until she found Rahma's room. Behind her, Rahma followed, sensing something was wrong.

Jadwa pressed a hand to her lips, trying to hold it together. Without a word, Rahma led her to the restroom. As soon as they reached it, Jadwa doubled over and threw up, her body convulsing until her eyes were wet with tears and her stomach ached. The perfume, the tension, Khayrah's words—it was all too much.

Rahma knelt beside her, gently helping her clean up, wiping away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. "Did Aunty Khayrah say something to you?" she asked quietly after a few minutes of rubbing her back.

Jadwa sniffed and shook her head. "That's not why," she whispered, offering a small, tired smile. "I'm okay. Thank you, Rahma."

"Are you sure, Jadu?" she asked, tapping her back.

Jadwa sniffed and managed a smile, trying to distract herself from remembering the smell of that damning perfume. "I really am."

Rahma hesitated before nodding, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Alright. Mama's been calling me. I should go."

As Rahma left the room, she bit her lip, glancing back, wondering what exactly had unfolded between Jadwa and Khayrah.

"I've been calling you, Rahma! Are you deaf?" her mother's sharp voice pierced the room, her eyes narrowing.

"No, Mama, I was with Jadwa. I think she's sick—she's been throwing up," Rahma explained, her voice softening.

At that, her mother fell silent, exchanging a brief but telling glance with Hajiya Rauda and another older woman who sat nearby. The room grew heavy with unspoken thoughts, but no one said a word.

"Ahap! Rauda, bana fada miki ba? Hmm." ("Rauda, didn't I tell you?") she asked her friend with a loud simultaneous hiss coming from both her and Hajiya Rauda.

Hajiya Rauda heaved in a deep sigh while Rahma watched them with utter confusion.

"Go and call her to greet them," her mother finally commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Mama, she's sick—" Rahma began, only to be cut off by the fierce glare that silenced her instantly.

"She ran up the stairs just fine. She's not the first woman to carry a child," her mother added matter-of-factly.

Rahma gasped, her eyes widening. "Mama!"

"Go call her down, my friend," her mother shushed her with a wave of her hand, signaling that the discussion was over.

Rahma quickly plastered on a wide smile and went upstairs to Jadwa, who gave her a puzzled look at the overly cheerful greeting. Rahma simply shrugged and zipped her lips, unable to speak of what had just transpired.

"Let's go greet Mama's friends," Rahma urged.

Jadwa grabbed her laffaya, draping it carefully over herself. With a deep breath, she popped a piece of gum in her mouth and reapplied her lip gloss, taking her time before they both headed downstairs.

As soon as they entered the room, Jadwa's eyes landed on the familiar face of Hajiya Rauda, who sat alongside another older woman and Rahma's mother. The tension in the air was palpable.

Jadwa sat on the carpet, greeting them with a polite, "Ina yini, Aunty Rauda. Ina yini ku?" Her voice wavered slightly, her nerves showing.

The other woman responded cheerfully, her voice overlapping Hajiya Rauda's quiet acknowledgment. Jadwa wasn't expecting a warm reception and was not surprised by Rauda's distant demeanor.

"How have you been?" Hajiya Rauda asked, her gaze sweeping over Jadwa.

"Alhamdulillah, I've been okay," Jadwa murmured.

"And how is Mai Gidanki?" Rauda continued, this time louder, clearing her throat as if to draw attention to the question.

"He's fine, Alhamdulillah, Aunty," Jadwa replied respectfully.

"She's the one my son Adam wanted to marry, but Muhammad won that race," Rauda quipped, her lips curving into a smirk as the older woman beside her gasped and then chuckled with an understanding nod.

Jadwa bit her tongue, 'my husband had no competition, he has never been in competition with any man, no man can even compare talk less of the psychopath you have for a son' she thought before a voice broke her thought.

"Ayyah, that's how life is," the older woman chimed in, smiling warmly at Jadwa. "MashaAllah, she's a beauty—no wonder the men were so captivated."

Rahma joined in the laughter, adding, "Aunty Hajjo, you should see how our brother is now. Completely smitten!"

Her mother shot her a silencing look, but the laughter in the room continued.

"Allah sarki. Muhammad finally made up his mind, it seems," Hajjo said, chuckling softly.

"Finally," Rahma's mother echoed, her smile thin as she sucked her teeth and looked away.

Then Hajjo's tone shifted. "And Khayrah? Any blessings of a new suitor yet?" The question hung in the air, and the room grew tense.

"Alhamdulillah, we have suitors everywhere," Rahma's mother responded smoothly, attempting to change the subject.

"Alhamdulillah," Hajiya Rauda replied, nodding.

Rahma returned with a glass of water and medicine, handing it to Jadwa, who took it with a quiet "thank you." Just as she was about to drink, Hajiya Hajjo stopped her with a raised hand.

"Drop that!" she said firmly, though her tone remained gentle. "You're carrying a child now—it's not every medicine you should take."

Jadwa froze, her breath catching in her throat. "I'm not—" she started to say, but the woman's knowing laughter cut her off.

"Come on, child. Even if I hadn't heard you were feeling sick, I'd have known from the way you've been acting." Hajiya Hajjo laughed then smiled kindly, her voice lowering as she offered advice. "You've been swallowing a lot. Cut out sodium—it'll help with the spitting and swelling later in the pregnancy."

"Even from her mannerisms, it's very clear," Hajiya Rauda agreed, chewing her gum, shooting daggers at Jadwa.

"You are right, clear as day... you know it's hard to tell the first time," Rahma's mom spoke with a smile and enthusiasm to Hajiya Hajjo and Jadwa, which seemed very far from genuine as Jadwa watched from the corner of her eyes.

Pregnancy? The word echoed in Jadwa's mind, and for a moment, the world around her seemed to fade. Her breath quickened, and her chest tightened. No, it couldn't be. Could it?

Now she understood why it was so offensive for others to keep asking about pregnancy or making assumptions.

Hajjo continued, her voice a distant hum, offering remedies and tips for expectant mothers. But Jadwa wasn't listening anymore. Her mind had shut down, her thoughts spinning wildly. As soon as the conversation drifted to lighter topics, she excused herself, heading back upstairs with Rahma.

"You didn't tell me!" Rahma exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Jadwa chuckled. "Calm down, madam. I'm not pregnant," she said, waving the idea away.

"How do you know?" Rahma pressed, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Because I can't be pregnant unless it's some kind of miracle," Jadwa laughed. "Mothers get excited over these things. Trust me, I'm not."

Rahma's shoulders slumped, but she still seemed unsure. Jadwa, however, wasn't laughing anymore. As she mentally counted back to her last period, doubt began to settle in. The family doctor had told her she might experience irregularities, so she hadn't thought twice about missing it. But now... she started counting the four months since she was conveyed and the possibility of her being pregnant.

Could it really be true?

Her mind drifted back to Khayrah's perfume, the awful smell that had made her stomach turn. She had encountered that scent before and never reacted like this. She'd also developed a strange aversion to plain water, preferring it only with lemon or cucumber. Juice and coconut water had become her go-to drinks lately.

A bead of sweat broke out on her neck, and she shifted uncomfortably. Rahma tried to distract her with gossip, and for a while, it worked—until Imran arrived to take her home.

As she said her goodbyes, Khayrah's cold eyes followed her every movement, chewing her gum, watching her closely with the same condescending eyes.

"Take care of yourself," Hajjo said warmly, her words laced with meaning as Jadwa forced a nervous smile and hugged Rahma goodbye.

•••

As Jadwa approached Imran's car, her steps felt heavy, each one more hesitant than the last. She saw him get out and stand tall, waiting, his familiar presence giving her a flicker of comfort but not enough to ease the weight in her chest.

"Fine girl, Yadai?" he greeted, his tone playful, but she could barely muster a smile. It felt like every muscle in her face had forgotten how to stretch that way.

"I'm tired, babe. Let's go home," she whispered, her voice trembling as her eyes darted to the ground, unable to meet his. She hoped he wouldn't notice, but Imran's sharp gaze caught the fear swimming just beneath the surface.

"Jadwa." His tone changed instantly, soft concern shifting to an edge of seriousness. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she said quickly—too quickly—slipping around the car to get in. Her movements were stiff, her heart pounding as she avoided his eyes. She hoped he would let it go. But Imran knew better.

He slid into the driver's seat, his jaw tight. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her nerves betrayed her. "No! Albi, I told you, I'm just tired," she insisted, the lie tasting bitter in her mouth. His eyes narrowed, and she felt his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Jadwa I'm going to ask one more time, and you better answer me honestly, or I swear, I'll go and find out myself," he warned, his voice low and steady, a calm before the storm. Her breath hitched. She knew he meant every word.

"It's Khayrah," she finally admitted, her voice cracking as the name left her lips. Her chest tightened as she concealed the other half of it, the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall. She blinked rapidly, refusing to cry—not for her and not for the words of the older women. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction. She sniffed, blinking away the tears before they could fully form.

Imran's hand gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. "What did she do?" His voice was a dangerous calm, the kind that made her worry about what he might do next.

Jadwa recounted the incident, how the venom in khayrah's voice had made her stomach twist and her whole mood falter even though she didn't go into details because it was too childish and unimportant in her eyes. She had fought back, after all, retaliated with words of her own, even though each one left a sour taste in her mouth but she left out what exactly was making her feel this way... how deeply the words of the Older women had cut and the anxiousness of it becoming reality. She decided to keep that information to herself and not tell him what they had said and assumed.

Imran's body tensed as he listened. He was halfway out of the car before she even finished, the urge to confront Khayrah right there and then burning in his chest. How dare she? The audacity to speak to Jadwa in any way would ruin her mood was infuriating, and he was ready to remind her of her place.

"Babe, please," Jadwa begged, her voice soft, her eyes pleading. "I already defended myself, I promise. I hurt her with my words, too. Let's just go home."

Imran eyed her like she wasn't serious or she took him as a joke.

"Babe, she'll now think of me as a weak girl or someone insecure or even jealous of her! I don't want to give her that importance," she explained, and he ran his tongue over his teeth, giving her words a thought.

"Plus Maman Rahma has her friends over, including Aunty Rauda... I don't want any of it, to be honest," she said thanking God she didn't even go into details.

They both glanced at Khayrah, feeling her presence, who stood outside, pulling an act of being on the phone, her eyes fixed on their car. Jadwa could feel her gaze, like a challenge, daring her with her eyes.

"Please?" She pouted without meaning to, her lips trembling, and Imran's resolve faltered. He sighed deeply, leaning in to kiss her pout away, his lips warm against hers.

Jadwa smiled widely, pulling him closer for more of the kiss, knowing the eyes on them. Satisfaction washed over her.

"Okay," he murmured, finally relenting, his hand brushing her cheek before starting the car. The drive home was quiet, a peaceful silence hanging between them, but Jadwa's thoughts were anything but that. Imran's hand rested on her thigh, a grounding touch, while her head leaned against his arm. She closed her eyes, trying to find the peace her body craved, but her mind was a storm.

When they arrived home, Imran noticed her subdued mood, though he didn't push her further. She was quieter than usual, her laughter absent, her mind clearly elsewhere. He made a few attempts to lift her spirits, cracking jokes, but she seemed distant, lost in her thoughts. Finally, in a bid to distract her, he suggested they watch a movie together.

Imran wasn't a movie person at all, but seeing her so down tugged at his heart. He regretted leaving her there. He knew these people like the back of his hand, and the last thing he wanted was her staying with them a minute when he's not near, but today he let her because of Rahma, she was his sister and she deserved to have a relationship with his wife regardless of the people around her.

He picked a horror movie, knowing how much she hated them but also knowing she'd eventually end up clinging to him.

As the movie started, Jadwa kept her distance at first, sitting on the other end of the couch, pretending to be brave and deep in thought. But soon, she was tucked tightly into his arms, clutching his shirt as the scares unfolded on the screen. Her little gasps and yelps made him laugh, a deep, hearty sound that filled the room. She buried her face in his chest when the tension became too much, and he held her closer, his amusement clear.

"Please turn this off, babeee!" she almost cried, closing her eyes.

He laughed heartily at her reactions, and for the first time that evening, Jadwa laughed too—full and genuine. "You're ridiculous. We must finish watching this today."

"Albiiiii," she dragged, giving him puppy eyes as another scary sound came. She dug her nails in his arms and held him closely.

He picked her up effortlessly into his arms, her head resting on his chest, looking away from the TV.

Imran teased her mercilessly next. "You were sulking just an hour ago, and now look at you, baby, jumping into my arms like I'm the only one who can save you." He raised a brow.

She laughed finally, the sound easing the tension in the air. "Stopppp," she muttered, hiding her face in his shirt. But her laughter was infectious, and soon they were both smiling, the heaviness between them momentarily lifted.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, his arms wrapped around her, Imran's voice softened. "I'm going to miss you," he murmured against her hair.

"Me too, baby. I'll miss you so much," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. They talked for a while about his trip, how it was just four days this time, but the next one would be longer. Her eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion finally pulling her into sleep mid-conversation. Imran watched her for a moment, smiling softly before turning off the lights and holding her close as they both drifted off.

•••

The next morning, Jadwa woke up late, the sunlight filtering in through the curtains. She jumped out of bed, freshened up quickly, and rushed downstairs to prepare a hearty breakfast for Imran before he left for the airport.

By the time she finished, he had wrapped up a lecture with his students and was already dressed, his suitcase ready by the door. "You still have time, so sit and eat," she insisted, placing the food in front of him.

"Always feeding me too much," he said and kissed her hand in gratitude as he always did when she cooked for him.

She rolled her eyes playfully her heart warming at his gesture and a blush creeping up her chest, pouring him a steaming cup of his mint tea.

They ate together, and though the food was delicious, Jadwa found herself picking at her plate, her mind elsewhere as she stared at her husband, for long minutes having a billion thoughts running through her mind. Imran sipped his tea, rising from the table.

"Don't stay too long," she whispered, her voice laced with emotion.

"If I can come back in three days, I'll be here," he promised, offering her that familiar smile that always made her heart melt.

She escorted him to the door; the driver was already waiting. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she hugged him with all her strength. Imran peppered her face with kisses until she burst into laughter and finally released him, playfully pushing him away.

"Take care of yourself for me," he said, his voice soft as he looked deep into her eyes. "Okay?"

"Okay, I promise," she replied, her smile trembling at the edges. "You too."

After bidding him farewell, Jadwa stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the car drive off until it disappeared from sight. The moment he left, the house felt emptier, and her chest tightened with the loneliness that came whenever he was away. But she had something else on her mind today—something that had been gnawing at her.

Without wasting time, she hurried upstairs, slipping into a jibab and grabbing her car keys. She drove to the nearest pharmacy, her heart racing. Once inside, she wandered through the aisles, her breath catching when her eyes fell on the shelf holding pregnancy tests. She hesitated for only a moment before grabbing three boxes. She started walking away from the aisle but on second thought, she turned around and added two more, her nerves fraying as she made her way to the counter.

The cashier rang up the items, and Jadwa paid quickly, barely able to hold back her anxiety. Back at home, she rushed to her bedroom, pulling out the packs of contraceptive pills from her bedside table. Her hands shook as she counted them, realizing with growing dread how many doses she had missed. Her palms became itchy, and fear caught her in a dreadful way.

She'd been reckless—missed too many pills. How had she been so careless?

Her head spun as she took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and headed to the bathroom. She took two tests, her hands shaking as she set them down on the countertop horizontally as instructed, waiting. The minutes dragged on, her heart pounded so loudly she could barely think, each second feeling like an eternity. Her heart raced, her palms sweaty despite the cool air surrounding her.

The timer she set ticked down painfully slowly, She paced the bathroom, her breath shallow, beads of sweat forming on her forehead despite the cool air.

When the timer finally rang, it's shrill sound cutting through the silence, she took a deep breath, stepped forward, and glanced at the results and immediately, a sigh escaped her lips, releasing the tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

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