Zoya? Daughter? Death anniversary?

Yasmeen couldn't wrap her head around the information, and she didn't bother to hide the taken aback expression masking her features. The fact that Zoya is sharing such an intimate information with her of all people is already shocking enough.

She isn't faking it, that much Yasmeen could tell.

But everything is just hard to accept. She thought she's Farrah mother—she seemed to care a great deal about the little girl.

Her head tilted to the side slightly, brows squished together. She parted her lips to ask something, before zipping it as she was unable to find the right words to use. When she finally got a hang of her thoughts, she shook her head and looked up to meet Zoya's almost lifeless ones.

"I'm sorry...I just..." She blew out a breath, her hands subconsciously wrapping around the bed frame from where she stood. "...you have a daughter?"

"I had a daughter." Zoya voiced out, before looking away, fighting the urge to break down again. "She passed away four years ago."

Yasmeen pressed her lips together, staring at Zoya in pity. Why is she feeling this way towards this woman? It's easy. She'd feel that way towards anyone in that position no matter who it is.

She doesn't have a kid, and as such, can never claim she understands what this woman is going through. But seeing Zoya in this condition, she can only rule out the fact that it must be a devastating feeling to lose a loved one.  A child in this case.

Unable to figure out the right thing to say, she found herself saying only one thing. "I'm sorry about your loss." She voiced out softly, meaning what she said from the bottom of her heart.

Zoya didn't say anything in response to Yasmeen's words. Having remembered something at that moment, she let out a humorless chuckle as new set of tears cascaded down her face. She honestly wanted to hold them back, but having started to speak about her predicament, she felt like pouring it all out.

Reaching her hand out to wipe the tears, though more fell, she went on. "It's funny, right?" She shifted her gaze to Yasmeen, offering her a bitter smile. "I'm here, absolutely wrecked having lost my only child and yet, my own mother doesn't even care about me—the only child she has." Another chuckle left her lips.

She wouldn't deny she's done terrible things, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel her while life is a joke. She doesn't have a good relationship with her mother, that's where she'll stop because she'd rather keep the rest to herself.

Yasmeen folded her lips in, not wanting to say anything that would offend Zoya. About two weeks ago, she wouldn't have cared but it's different now. She's seeing Zoya in a different light, though that doesn't mean she's forgotten who the woman is to her.

"It's okay." Zoya said drily, "You can say what's on your mind. I doubt anything that hurt my feelings again." She would've claimed she has no more feelings, but that will be a lie. At least, now, she was able to wipe away the tears furiously—no longer liking how it's showing her insecure side.

Yasmeen didn't need to be told twice. Keep hurting feels aside, she has words at the tip of her tongue. "I don't know what happened to your kid, but I can tell you truly love her." She isn't blind. From the little she'd seen of Zoya that day, she truly looks miserable.

Why else would she look that way if she doesn't adore her kid.

"—As for your mother, I never thought they'd be parents like that—mothers actually." She forgotten about her father who doesn't care one bit about her. But she always thought mothers are different.

She hasn't experienced the joy of being a mother, but she can only set her example on Farrah. Yes, the kid isn't her blood and she hasn't known her for long, but she's sure the love she has for that kid is motherly. She's probably have the same feeling towards her own kid.

That intense urge to love and protect your child—the feeling that you'd do anything for that kid to have a good life. To grow in an environment full of love, and to lead them down the right path.

Sounds far-fetched, right? But she'd thought a lot over the days. Of course, she'd made her decision the minute the little girl asked her to be her mother, but she became even more certain of her decision during the past few days.

She wants to be a mother to Farrah; she wants that kid to be hers. 

Zoya quirked a brow at Yasmeen's words. And instead of seeming offended, she looked almost amused. After a few seconds of simply staring at the woman, she chuckled slightly. "You'd be surprised." She muttered, sounding as if she knows something Yasmeen doesn't.

And she does.

But, it's not exactly in her place to say.

Yasmeen frowned, not quite getting what the woman on the bed said. She barely got the words, and she doesn't understand them.

"—Go ahead." Zoya's voice came yet again, sounding a bit better than she did earlier. She still looks exhausted, but she no longer looks like she's about to bawl her eyes out. Truth be told, albeit she wouldn't admit it, just admitting what's wrong with her made her feel a bit better. "I know you have another thing on your mind. Say it." She's good at reading people, and she could read Yasmeen weirdly enough. Though not always.

The addressed woman's eyes narrowed slightly, hating how Zoya is able to see the question masking her expression. Nonetheless, she sighed and went on to voice out one question that's been on her mind. "I thought you're Farrah's mother."

Almost instantly, Zoya's lips stretched into a smile—though Yasmeen couldn't tell if it was supposed to be comforting or creepy. It's actually both. "I'm not." She didn't see the need to hide it. "Her mother is crazier than I am."

Yasmeen's head tilted to the side. Truth be told, despite the smile on Zoya's face, she still felt like her words are a warning of some sort. But, why? "Crazy hyper? Or crazy, actually crazy?" She wanted to know where this said woman belongs.

Even she is crazy. But, in a hyper sort of way. You know, the good kind.

What of Farrah's mysterious mother?

"Batshit crazy." Zoya confirmed, in all seriousness. Her expression took a 360 turn from joking to grave. "Crazy enough to do the unthinkable." She stopped there, because no one would hear anything else from her.

It's up to them whether they figure it out or not.

She knows how to protect herself.

Yasmeen wanted to ask what else Zoya knows, because it's obvious the woman knows something else. But, she held herself back because she has a feeling it would be pointless. Zoya doesn't seem like the type that would care to tell her what it is.

So, she begrudgingly sighed and choose to put a lid on her curiosity.

Instead, she decided to change the topic. "I'll go get the nurse. She's still not here." Without waiting for Zoya's response, Yasmeen turned around with a jumbled mind due to the new information she got.

However, just as she reached the door, Zoya's voice came.

"Why are you being this nice to me?" Zoya directed her question to the aforementioned, as she turned around to look at her with that same grave expression. She truly doesn't understand why Yasmeen is treating her this way.

Yasmeen turned around, her lips set into a frown. "Why shouldn't I?" She doesn't see a reason why not. "That's what's called being humane."

Zoya's lips quirked into a humorless smile, her words holding every drop of sincerity in her blood. "I wouldn't do the same to you, because I hate you. That's what makes us enemies." Just because she opened up to her doesn't mean she suddenly loves her.

No.

She still has the same feelings towards her.

Yasmeen shrugged, not seeming offended in the slightest. "I feel the exact same way about you." Just because she sees her in a different light doesn't mean she likes her either. "We're not enemies though. So, rest up while I get you a nurse."

This time around, she didn't pause as she turned around and went ahead to get a nurse to check on Zoya. She's no doctor, but she knows this woman will be discharged soon. Whatever is wrong with her probably won't be enough to have her hospitalized.

Hopefully.

Why? Because she genuinely doesn't have such ill feelings towards her.

She meant what she said. She hates her, but she doesn't consider her an enemy. That's something.

Why should they be enemies over a man?

~*~

Turns out Yasmeen was right. Zoya was discharged that same day after getting thoroughly checked to ensure she's in the right health of course. Turns out, she was simply exhausted but with adequate rest and care, she would be healthy as ever.

Yasmeen stayed with her throughout the process, because it's obvious, just like her—she's all alone there. In the back of her mind, Zoya knew she could call Imam instead and he'd be there for her like the brother he'd always been, but, she for some reason decided not to.

Even she isn't sure why she'd rather have Yasmeen there, despite harboring hatred towards her. However, the hatred wasn't as much as before. What changed? She has no idea.

She couldn't even explain her emotions properly. Yes, she hates the woman but not enough to hate her presence. Doesn't make sense, right?

Nothing about her life made sense then, so, she'd just go with the flow.

After getting discharged, Yasmeen helped her and together, they made their way home. On reaching their apartment, Zoya unlocked hers and like the kind person she is, Yasmeen helped her in with her belongings—though there's not much.

"Do you need something before I go?" Yasmeen asked, simply out of nicety. She doesn't feel good allowing the woman alone in that condition. Yes, she's better than earlier but she still isn't in the right state.

It's obvious from a glance at her face. She's sleep deprived and in need of rest—preferably, long hours of it.

Zoya dropped her phone on the couch, before making a move to take off her hijab that she loosely wrapped. She shook her head, "No. I don't need anything."

Yasmeen simply shrugged, though she isn't convinced. Taking a few strides towards the owner of the apartment, she dropped the medicine they'd gotten for her on the coffee table. "You should probably eat, and take these before sleeping. It should help."

Zoya playfully narrowed her eyes at Yasmeen, though it seemed like she was truly glaring at her. "I didn't know you're a doctor."

Instead of answering, Yasmeen simply threw her a glare back, a playful one as she turned around and made her way towards the kitchen. The apartment truly looks like hers and Asad's—except with a few differences here and there and of course, the different furniture.

But the position of everything else is the same.

She didn't stop until she reached the refrigerator. And without any word, she pulled it open to check its content.

Zoya's mouth hung open, yau tana ganin ikon Allah! "Well, make yourself at home." She stated sarcastically, expecting a similar response.

Instead, all she got was; "Already on it! No need to tell me twice." Normally, Yasmeen would've carried her slippers and quietly exited since they can't stand each other.

But that day, it's different.

Her eyes surveyed the refrigerator, and then she frowned, "What do you eat?" She questioned, her face scrunching up. There's nothing in there other than water and a few drinks.

That's it. Nothing else.

What does this woman live off of?

"Take outs." Zoya stated casually, like it's the most obvious thing ever. She can cook, in fact, that's all she does in her free time but since she got here, she hasn't exactly been living that way.

For one, she truly has work and that enough is tedious as it is. She doesn't stay home for long. In fact, she came back from work just in the early hours of the day and passed out after returning before she made it to her apartment.

So, when she's home—the few days that is, all she does is eat take outs.

"—What?" She added, noting the look Yasmeen is sporting. "Do you want to cook for me or something?"

"No." Yasmeen lightly slammed the door close as she turned around and made her way towards the living room. "Why should I cook for you again?" The limit of her kindness is warming up whatever food Zoya has for her.

But she won't cook for her. She's not that nice.

"I'm going to order something for us, on your tab of course." She offered Zoya a wide smile as she popped herself up on one of the couches, almost as if she owns the place.

Zoya was unable to hold herself back, instead, she stared at Yasmeen in amusement. "Why should I pay for you?"

"To pay back for all I've done for you today." Yasmeen answered like it's the most obvious thing. "Wait, you didn't think I did all of that for free, right? Wahala." Truthfully, she did it for a good cause not because she expected Zoya to pay her or anything.

But it's obvious the woman is in need of some distraction, and luckily enough, she does too. She doesn't want to go back to her apartment and be all depressed too.

Zoya stared at her for a couple of seconds, before scoffing in disbelief. "Allah ya shirye ki." She mumbled amusedly, settling on the couch as she picked up her phone to order something for them both.

Yasmeen who's leaned back on her couch stared at her with furrowed brows. "Wait, you can speak Hausa?"

"Obvi." Zoya answered, never raising her head from her phone. "I grew up in Kano before studying here. What did you expect?"

"Nasani ko ku yen gayu bakwa yin Hausa."

Instead of giving her an answer, Zoya simply smiled as she went ahead to pick something for them, after asking Yasmeen what she wanted to eat. Weirdly enough, the air wasn't tensed with the two.

In actuality, they had the food together with jokes thrown here and there as if they weren't the ones supposed to hate each other. And truthfully, both of them were being sincere then.

However, the plot twist was—Zoya who was supposed to be the one to eat and sleep didn't. Nope, Yasmeen was the one who ended up falling asleep on the couch, leaving the patient alone.

"Look after me my ass." Zoya mumbled as she picked up a comforter and draped it over Yasmeen; eyes narrowed playfully. Funny how the tables turned and she's the one even covering Yasmeen's sleeping figure so she wouldn't get cold.

Wonders shall never end.

Having done that, she turned around and headed to her room to get some sleep too because it's obvious she needs it. Yet, before she fell asleep, all she could think of was;

Could she still harbor the same hatred towards Yasmeen after all that just happened? Is she capable of that?

~*~

Yasmeen was only out for about an hour before she woke up—surprised to see she'd dozed off in Zoya's apartment of all places. But, what came as a surprise to her more was the comforter that shied her from the cold.

A small smile donned her features, knowing at maybe, just maybe, Zoya isn't as bad as she's portraying herself to be. She'd like to believe she's just a woman hurt—and instead of turning towards the brighter side, she chooses the dark side.

That's her opinion though.

Sighing, Yasmeen got on her feet after stretching her limps and folded the comforter neatly before placing it aside on the bed. Looking around the place, she tried to spot any sign of Zoya around the place—only to come to the conclusion that the woman had probably hit the bed too.

So, she picked up the pills the woman left there after taking the one for earlier, along with a bottle of water before trudging towards the room she saw her disappear earlier. Carefully turning the doorknob, Yasmeen peeked in to see the woman in her bed, fast asleep as expected.

Quietly making sure to not do anything to wake her, she placed the pills and water bottle on the bedside cabinet before leaving. She found her shoes by the entrance where the others are, and after slipping them, she exited the apartment and headed into hers.

It was late at night, and she hadn't even realized how much time passed with her being around Zoya. Weirdly enough, the woman's presence wasn't bad at all. Aside from the occasional arguments, they were more like old friends simply catching up.

Is that the start of a blooming friendship? Perhaps.

Another sigh left Yasmeen's parted lips which morphed into a yawn. She brought her hand up to cover it, still feeling a bit drowsy. She hadn't been getting sufficient sleep in the past few days, so she wasn't surprised she's that exhausted.

On reaching her room, she almost turned the doorknob when she stopped and casted a look at Asad's door. Her heart clenched, and without giving it much thought, she traipsed there instead—something she had never done.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, she stepped into the room with a salaam. It wasn't exactly dark—as the curtains were drawn up—the exact same way he left it and from there, it gave a great view of the city.

Even without the lights on, she could still make out a lot of things in the room. She didn't fail to notice how tidy the place is. Who would've thought?

She slowly made her way in, only stopping by the bedside cabinet where she spotted a picture frame. A smile instantly took over her features, seeing Asad and Farrah in the frame—grinning widely. Their happiness was evident on their faces and subconsciously, her eyes welled up with tears.

She was unable to hold it back as a few cascaded down her face. She sniffed and reached a hand out to wipe it but more came falling. She didn't want to admit it, but she misses Asad. She misses the man more than she'd like to admit.

She'd gotten so used to him that not having him around simply isn't sitting right with her.

Movements from behind her had her turning around instantly, her heart hammering behind her ribcage as she nearly let out a scream seeing the figure by the door. She was so close to letting out a piercing cry because she didn't expect to see anyone there. More or less, not him.

Still rooted in her position with tears sliding down her face, she quietly watched as he strolled towards her—closing the distance between them. Without a warning whatsoever, he instantly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into an embrace—one that they both desperately needed.

If she wasn't certain before, the whiff she had of his cologne confirmed her thoughts that it truly is him. He'd came back to her.

A sob left her lips almost instantly as she wrapped her arms around him, not caring where she dropped the picture frame. She needed to feel him close to her, so she pulled him impossibly closer as if scared that if she held any less, he'd disappear.

Who cares that she's crying ugly tears? She has Asad back. That's all that matters.

~*~

I'm going to be MIA for the next two or three weeks, like this I get tests and exams all lined up so...abeg, no come and not so nicely ask for update. I get life outside this app.

Moving on, feel free to check out my complete books on Okadabooks and Selar. Might be the last time you get the discount any time soon. Tam, I have said my own.

Oh, and include me and everyone writing exams, test or whatever in your prayers please. I want to continue being a baller soon abeggg, this mechanic life is not easy. Ah!

Have a good night.

Love, Jannah.