Kaduna State, Nigeria.

Yasmin took a quick shower and dressed in one of her many dresses. One thing was certain: she was happy. The happiness was overwhelming, slowly consuming her, because she had never been prouder than she was that day. Everything was perfect.

She hadn't expected to earn such a large amount and almost didn't accept it. But when she called Madam Gloria, stuttering with uncertainty, she was told to chin up and take it. That's what you earned, Yasmin. It's your hard-earned money, Madam Gloria had assured her.

So she did.

When she was about to leave on the train —yes, they had arranged a train for her after she explained the trouble she had while coming— Murad slipped a brand-new iPhone into her bag without her noticing, making sure she couldn't return it.

She had given him a teary smile, promising to stay in touch. Of course, the brides weren't able to accompany her since they were enjoying the early days of their marriages. Yasmin had insisted they stay back home.

Murad had taken her to the train station after telling her that Amani had left a suitcase of clothes for her. She didn't want to take it because seriously, just what on earth are they doing?

"Yasmin, I don't need these clothes anymore. You've seen the lefe I got, and I don't even know what to do with them. Please, don't think I'm giving them to you for any reason other than that we're friends. I even gave some to Afrah."

Amani was referring to her sister-in-law Afrah, and Yasmin couldn't blame anyone for accepting anything from her. Have you seen how perfectly Amani sews her clothes? It was as though a machine had made them.

Bushra Amani was a big name in Nigerian fashion, and wearing her clothes was an honor. Yasmin felt overwhelmed by all they had done for her since she arrived. One gift after another.

Amani had even given clothes for Siyama, after they had only greeted each other twice on the phone. They just clicked, and even followed each other on Instagram. Everything was happening so fast for Yasmin.

It was true —when Allah wants something for you, there is no force on earth that can stop it from happening. Nothing can keep you from what is meant for you!

"Know that if the nation were to gather together to benefit you with anything, they would not benefit you except with what Allah had already prescribed for you. And if they gather together to harm you with anything, they would not harm you except with what Allah had already prescribed against you." At-Tirmidhi

She has never believed in this Hadith more than she does right now. She always knew. Just look at what had happened to her in the span of three days. A blink of an eye, if you asked her.

It all started with Allah leading her to Madam Gloria, who took a liking to her. Now, she was in Abuja, working her dream job, earning her first million from her first gig, and receiving clothes worth more than their house rent.

She had connected with people she would never have dreamed of meeting in her life. Many had asked for her Instagram handle or phone number, all because her decorations were "perfect," coming from someone so young. She inspired many.

Murad had sat her down the night before her return and taught her how to use Instagram, Snapchat, and WhatsApp. He had even asked if she wanted to try Twitter, but it was too confusing, so they left it out.

He showed her how to use Canva, video-making apps, and connected her with someone to help design her logo. She had cried herself to sleep, overwhelmed by gratitude. How on earth had she met such incredible people?

She vividly remembered how the night had ended yesterday...

"There, you are now perfect!" Murad said with a grin, giving her a high five.

Yasmin hesitated before awkwardly accepting it, the warmth of his hand lingering longer than it should. She wasn't used to casual gestures like that with men, well, not since high school.

And after everything he had done to help her, it felt odd to just let go so quickly. It was like they all treated each other like family. He was like the older brother she never had and honestly, he treats her as a sister too.

"You are too nice. All of you." She acknowledged softly, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

She had never met people as kind as them. Ever. It stirred something bittersweet inside her, the realization that she might never meet anyone like them again. Rich, down to earth and stinking nice?

"Are we now?" Murad teased, raising an eyebrow. "Don't forget, we're still very much enemies."

Her eyes widened at that like he just said a blasphemy. "No, we're not. You're practically my best friend now."

"Ew. Please," Murad grimaced in mock disgust.

Yasmin narrowed her eyes playfully. "Are you rejecting my friendship now?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's suspicious as it is." He teased further, leaning his wide muscular arms that flexed beneath his red polo shirt on the couch.

"Dramatic much." She rolled her eyes with a small smile.

Murad leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So... how about your Whisperwind? He did not seem thrilled with how the evening ended."

Yasmin blinked, momentarily caught off guard at the sudden change of topic. "He was happy. He smiled at me before he left. Even asked when I was going back to Kaduna."

Murad burst into laughter, almost falling off the couch and she narrowed her eyes at him. "He cannot wait for you to leave here and be away from me."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would he want that?"

"You're too naive, tilapia," Murad smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. "He's jealous. Thinks there's something romantic going on between us."

Murad smiled at her, knowing that in different circumstances, he might have wanted something romantic to develop between them. But his heart and mind were already set elsewhere.

He had a plan, one that revolved around his sister's future and his own marriage. He never thought he would marry out of revenge, but for his sister? There was no doubt in his mind, it had to be done. They have made a grave mistake and they will pay for it.

Yasmin was a good girl, perfect even, and his mother had asked about her, just like many of his relatives. But Murad knew that Whisperwind —Abdullah, as he had learned— was the better match for her.

He had done his research through his brother-in-law, Amir Malik, and Abdullah was solid. He wasn't like the flashy Abuja boys; there was something deeper about him. He looked gentle enough when they met too.

Yasmin's cheeks flushed, shy for once, as Murad watched her with a knowing grin. "Jealous? Of you?"

Murad nodded, still chuckling. "Yes. Your Whisperwind thinks I'm a threat. Probably sees me as competition."

"Wow," Yasmin whispered, feeling an odd mixture of excitement and disbelief. "Don't make my hopes go high."

"Oh, it should," Murad said, crossing his arms. "I think he likes you. Or at the very least, tolerates you, despite himself."

"Why doesn't he want to like me?" She looks really really curious and sad.

Murad sighed, his tone shifting slightly. "Because you're not like anyone he's ever met. You pull him in despite him trying to keep his distance. Haven't you noticed? The guy's an introvert. You... intrigue him."

Yasmin's heart fluttered at his words. "Really? Please, go on."

Murad leaned back and grinned. "Go on what, ehn, Lover Girl?"

"I want to know more. About how he feels. About him." She curled her fists beneath her chin watching him with wide eyes.

Murad studied her face with a slight smile. The first thing he noticed was her nose —small and perfectly upturned, easily the cutest he'd ever seen. Next were her quarter-moon eyebrows, short but thick, framing her eyes just right.

Her eyes, though not large, had an undeniable brightness. The whites were strikingly clear, and there was always a flicker of mischief in them, even when she was trying to be serious. Her small, neat teeth were almost delicate, fitting perfectly with her full lips, which were slightly heavier on the bottom, giving her an effortlessly soft look.

If a poet were to write about her, they would have endless inspiration. Her face spoke volumes, each expression more captivating than the last.

Murad shook his head, laughing. "No, no. That's your job. My work here is done."

"You're no fun! Best friends are supposed to tell all!"

"Well, when you and Whisperwind finally make it official, then you can call me your best friend. Until then, go to bed before Dr. Mariya catches you."

Just then, Dr. Mariya, Murad's mother, appeared with a warm smile. "Oh, she's already caught you. You know eight hours of sleep is important, right? And Yasmin, don't let Murad get to you. That boy is not okay."

Yasmin giggled, glancing at Murad. "True. He definitely needs help. Aunty, you should get him married."

Dr. Mariya winked. "Oh, we will. And now, even you have rejected him."

Yasmin's eyes widened at that —did he tell her that?— as she sputtered. "Did I?"

"You did, and I am heartbroken," Murad teased, dodging her glare with a laugh.

"Don't mind him, darling. Go and rest, you've got a long day tomorrow," Dr. Mariya added, patting her shoulder.

Yasmin smiled, feeling a warmth settle in her chest as she nodded. "Goodnight, Aunty. Goodnight, Murad. Try not to be too heartbroken."

Murad clutched his chest dramatically. "I'll try to survive, but it won't be easy."

Remembering his expression made her giggle as she grabbed her phone from the bed to message him, letting him know she'd arrived safely. He had even arranged a Bolt to pick her up from the train station and take her home.

After that, she made her way to the living room, where her parents and Siyama were still sitting. She served herself some kosai and pap, and with each bite, she couldn't help but moan as though she hadn't eaten in days.

"Nothing beats Baaba's kosai," Yasmin said, eyes closed in bliss. When she opened them, her gaze fell on Siyama, who narrowed her eyes in warning. Yasmin, unbothered, mouthed "later" with a smirk.

With a triumphant smile, Yasmin launched into a story about her time in Abuja, showing them pictures the brides had sent her since her phone was practically ancient. Murad wanted her to throw it up a mango tree so she can at least get some mangoes out of it. Imagine that!

Yasmin blushed when the conversation shifted to her Whisperwind. She couldn't hide her feelings, and since she'd already confided in Siyama, her sister took every opportunity to tease her in ways only they understood, while their parents remained oblivious.

"I'm glad that guy helped you," their father said, his expression still serious despite the situation having passed.

"Me too," Yasmin agreed.

"Have you thanked him enough?" her mother asked, crossing her legs and eyeing her daughter closely.

"Yes! I even got his number," Yasmin replied with a shrug and a smile. Her mother gave her a curious look, filing that information away for later. Her daughters would have some explaining to do soon enough.

"I'm going to meet Madam Gloria now. She's been discharged, so I'll just walk," Yasmin announced as she stood up, clearing her plate.

"Let me drop you off. I'm heading to the market," her father offered, standing as he placed a thousand naira note in front of her mother.

Yasmin couldn't wait to start using her money to support her family. She had so many ideas but would wait until they were all together to discuss them.

After leaving the dishes outside, where they washed plates, she followed her father. Siyama called after her, saying she'd start up the new iPhone, and Yasmin gave her the go-ahead with a wave.

What Yasmin didn't expect was to meet Madam Gloria and find out there was another job waiting for her. Apparently, they wanted her to handle the decorations for an upcoming event —and it just so happened to be for Abdullah's company, though she didn't know that yet.

***

"They deserve some sort of celebration for this milestone. Five years is no joke. Don't be a party pooper," Anas whined, but Abdullah kept his eyes glued to his computer, typing away.

"Do what you want. I never stopped you. Why are you trying to include me?" Abdullah responded, his tone indifferent.

"You have to come! You're a huge part of the company's growth." Anas is close to losing his shit because Abdullah is getting worse at being oblivious. This has to stop.

"I've got stuff to do. I might not even be in the state then, so no promises." Abdullah announced even though he has nothing going on. He just wasn't a party person and if it isn't necessary, he won't be there.

"I need you here, though. I want you to meet Faiza that day. I don't want your first meeting to be some blind date because I have zero trust in you when it comes to that."

"Who's Faiza?" Abdullah asked, still barely looking up.

"Fucking hell. This is so frustrating. If I hadn't promised Auntie that I'd help her son get a life, I would've given up on you ages ago." Anas shook his head in disbelief. "She's Sauda's younger sister."

"Oh." Abdullah's fingers paused mid-typing, his mouth forming an 'o' as he finally registered the name. He'd forgotten.

"Yes, oh. So, postpone whatever it is you're doing."

"I don't think it's possible." Abdullah said slowly, leaning slightly forward.

"It is, and I won't hear otherwise," Anas said firmly. Then, changing the subject, "By the way, weren't you talking about a decorator from Amir's wedding? Heard she lives around here? Why don't we get her to handle it?"

Abdullah perked up at the mention of Yasmin, even though her name wasn't mentioned. He knew exactly which event planner Anas was talking about. She'd left such an impression that everyone was buzzing about her, she'd become the talk of the event, even among the groomsmen.

"Why do we need decorations for a simple five-year anniversary?" Abdullah asked, seriously wondering what goes on in his friend's brain.

"I don't know... maybe to make the place more inviting?" Anas shot back with a hefty dose of sarcasm.

"Alright then. You should hire her."

"Hire or book?"

"Whichever one." Abdullah sighed. "Anas, please let me work."

"Promise me you're coming, and I'll vanish like I was never here. Well, except my new Creed Aventus scent will linger behind to keep you company," Anas teased, leaning back with a smirk.

"Yes, I'm coming," Abdullah muttered, more out of a desire for peace than agreement.

Or... because a certain someone is probably coming. He wants to find out what would happen when Yasmin comes to his workplace. But what will happen? Maybe he just wants to see her again.

Anas grinned, satisfied. "Perfect. You'll thank me later."

Hiiiiiiiii! I know I've been MIA but this school will not kill me. Shaaaaa today I decided to write because Murad and Yasmin's dialogues kept playing in my head🤭 see, Murad has other plans for himself.

Anywayyyyyy, do you believe Whisperwind was jealous? And I think Murad did that intentionally🤣 and she is working for him🥳 (this twist was never part of the book but welllll)

Yall patiently waiting for Siyama's part🌚 wait a bit longer. An update is coming soon because you'll loveeee it. I think😔

QOTD: Would you rather have the power to change the past or the ability to see the future? Abeg past wey don pass? What will I do with it again? I learned my mistake😂 I would rather see the future. You?