Kaduna State, Nigeria

"You're still here?" Abdullah asked, locking his office behind him as he spotted Yasmin standing nearby, barely able to keep hold of the plastic bags in her hands. 

She turned to him with a sheepish smile. He almost felt compelled to return it, but confusion kept him from doing so. She was the last person he expected to see. Oh, someone was inside the boardroom still packing things up. 

"I was hoping you'd give me a lift," she chuckled when she noticed his confusion deepen, then quickly added, "Just kidding. I had to make sure the leftover food doesn't go to waste." 

"Oh..." Abdullah murmured, stepping toward her to help with the bags, even though they looked like they might ruin his suit with oil stains. 

"Aren't you a sweetheart?" she teased, grinning as she followed him to the elevator. As usual, she continued chatting his ears off. 

"Everyone enjoyed the event, right? From what I could see, they all had a great time especially the one who asked his girlfriend to marry him. I feel like I've accomplished something far greater than money could buy. I mean, a proposal!" She beamed showcasing a proud, motherly smile. 

"Wasn't it the cutest thing ever?" Yasmin asked, turning to him, her eyes shining so brightly that Abdullah found himself lost in them for a moment, forgetting she had even asked a question. 

Her eyes were so dark, yet the excitement in them made them appear luminous, as if lit by an invisible flashlight. They also looked so innocent, untainted by the darkness of the world beyond. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to protect that innocence. 

"Yes, it was," he replied quickly, looking away as he realized he hadn't answered her properly. He silently admitted her eyes were the most beautiful he'd ever seen. 

Yasmin fell into a contemplative silence, her gaze drifting to their reflections in the elevator's mirrored walls. He stood a head taller than her, his commanding presence impossible to ignore.

Their suits spoke of vast contrasts as she stared —hers simple and practical, his undoubtedly more expensive, tailored to perfection, every seam emphasizing his lean build. He is too perfect.

Her eyes lingered on him, and before she could stop herself, an image formed in her mind: her head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming her.

The thought sent a ripple of warmth through her, spreading from her curling toes to the very tips of her hair. She bit back a smile, caught off guard by the surge of quiet admiration blooming in her heart.

They'd make a cute pair. Their children would be so good-looking, everyone would want to take pictures of them. It took everything in her not to lean closer, wrap her arms around him and just breathe him in. She'd always loved his cologne. 

It smelled like him —like morning wind and peace of mind. It wasn't the overpowering type men wore to be noticed. His was soft yet distinctly masculine and unique. So like him. 

She blinked, desperately trying to shake off the absurd, unrelenting thoughts swirling in her mind. She had never —not once in her life— allowed herself to think of touching a man, let alone crave it. But with Abdullah, everything is sideways.

Her carefully constructed resolve crumbled like sand under a relentless tide. She couldn't think straight, couldn't control the way her thoughts betrayed her with wild, unwelcome imaginings.

Her mind wandered back to the moment that still burned with shame. The memory of her brazenly kissing his cheek. What had she been thinking? In her defense, she hadn't even realized she'd done it until it was too late.

She'd been so lost in her head, so blinded by whatever had taken hold of her that she thought the act was confined to her imagination. But no. It had been real, painfully real. She shocked his life then.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the memory to disappear, though she knew it wouldn't. The humiliation was seared into her, raw and unrelenting. God, how had she found the courage to face him after that? She shouldn't have. She should have run, buried herself somewhere far from the embarrassment.

But because she was Yasmin, here she stood, imagining yet another horrendous thought. Maybe this was why girls were so eager to get married because, in most cases, love language was physical. Hers was definitely physical too. 

Time to stop these stupid thoughts. She wouldn't let herself sin again because of a man, no matter how much she loved him. Once was enough. Besides, she needed to focus on getting him to reciprocate her feelings first. 

She turned her head to look at him just as the elevator doors slid open. 

"Your employees were too afraid to talk to you. Why?" she asked as they walked toward the parking lot. 

"They're not, trust me. They just know I don't want to be bothered if it's not business-related," he replied, subtly guiding her to his car. 

The whole day felt so domestic to Yasmin. First, he had taken her to the market, then brought her back to the office, and now he was taking her home. Granted, she had intentionally turned down Faiza's offer to go with them, knowing Abdullah would offer her a ride. 

It wasn't her fault she cherished every single moment they spent together. It didn't matter how she got him to give her those lifts. She'd been in his car more times than she could count already.

Yasmin sat quietly in the passenger seat stealing glances at Abdullah as he focused on the road. His hands were steady on the wheel, his posture relaxed yet precise, every move calculated.

She realized that he was the kind of driver who never sped, always signaled, and maintained a perfect distance from the car ahead. She's never seen him breaking rules even if there is no one around the red light, he waits.

Yasmin fiddled with her fingers, trying to think of something serious to say for the first time that wouldn't feel like rambling. Maybe if she had been serious from the beginning, things would've been moving differently and quicker.

"You know, you drive like the police are watching you." She teased though she intentionally didn't sound as childish as she used to.

Abdullah gave a small smile but didn't take his eyes off the road. "Or maybe I just like following the rules." 

"That's boring," she teased, leaning slightly toward him. It's like there is an invisible magnet dragging her towards him.

He chuckled under his breath shaking his head. "It's not boring when it keeps you alive." 

"Trueeee," she drawled then hesitated before adding, "You're so... careful about everything though. Driving, working and even talking. It's like you've built a wall around yourself." 

Abdullah glanced at her briefly before focusing back on the road. "Careful isn't a bad thing. It's practical." 

"Maybe. But don't you ever get tired of it?" She frowned really wondering why someone would prefer a boring life.

He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. "I've seen what happens when people act recklessly. It's not pretty." 

Yasmin tilted her head, studying his profile. "You've been hurt before."

It wasn't a question. It was obvious he had been hurt by someone. A small needle pricked at her heart because her first thought was that another woman had hurt him. Has he been in love? He doesn't look like he has with his nonchalance.

His grip on the wheel tightened but his voice remained calm. "Haven't we all?" 

"Sure. But most people don't let it define them." She would've patted her back if not the conversation was serious.

He exhaled slowly, as if weighing his next words. "It's not about letting it define you. It's about being smarter. People... they can be unpredictable. One minute, they're with you and the next, they're gone or worse." 

The weight in his tone made her chest ache. She turned her gaze to the road ahead, unsure how to respond.

"That sounds lonely," she said softly. 

Abdullah's brows furrowed and he glanced at her again, this time for longer. "Loneliness is better than regret. When you keep your circle small, there's less risk." 

"But less joy too," she retorted, her voice soft and bemused. "Don't you ever want more than... just being careful?" 

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he flicked on the turn signal and merged into another lane, his movements smooth and deliberate. She could watch him drive all day and not get tired.

"Sometimes," he admitted finally, his voice so low she almost didn't catch it. "But wanting more comes with a price. Not everyone is worth paying it for." 

Her heart skipped a beat, her thoughts racing. Was he talking about her? Or was this just another glimpse of the guarded man he was? This man is even more complicated than she thought.

At first she thought it was just shyness but now she cannot even think about what goes on in his head. He is shy, that is without a doubt written all over him but it goes deeper than that. There are so many layers to him. But she was ready to peel them off.

"How do you know who is worth it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

His gaze flicked to hers for a fleeting moment, something unreadable in his eyes. "I'm still figuring that out." 

Yasmin swallowed hard, the tension in the car suddenly thicker than the evening air outside. She turned her head to the window, hiding the small smile that threatened to break through. 

As the car slowed at a red light, she felt his attention on her, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Is it just in her head? Because Yasmin wants to step out and scream for a minute then come back in and continue this sensible conversation.

The light turned green, and the car rolled forward. Her Whisperwind accompanied her to go the side of the road in her area to give the almajiris the leftovers after she kept a portion for the other tenants in her compound.

The children already know who she was.

"Allah ya baki miji nagari, Aunty Yasmin. May Allah bless you with a good husband, Aunty Yasmin." The almajiris kept saying after she gave each a black nylon with rubber coke.

It wasn't in her head this time around because she heard Abdullah saying Amin after every single one of the almajiris prayed for her. He is helping her pass the coke.

"Allah saka muku da alkhairi ya baku gidan aljannah...May Allah reward you with goodness and bless you with Jannah..." One old woman said and the emotions in her voice moved Yasmin.

She has always been grateful even though time tends to be tough for them in her house but at least they have a roof over their heads and they have never gone to bed hungry no matter what. Now she is thanking Allah more and more.

When Abdullah took her back to her home it was already maghrib. She stayed in the car long after he had parked outside her house. She didn't know what to say for the first time so she packed her bag and gave him a smile.

"Thank you for everything." She murmured opening the door then added without looking at him, "I hope you figure it out."

"Good night." He said to her in a quiet voice and she nodded.

For the rest of the night, Yasmin couldn't stop replaying their conversation in her mind, especially the way his Amin lingered, echoing softly in her thoughts. It wasn't just a casual or reflexive response.

Every time one of the almajiris had offered a prayer, he had responded with the same deliberate, heartfelt Amin. He hadn't missed a single one and it wasn't out of habit, it was intentional. He truly wanted those prayers for her. But why?

^*^

"Aunty, wedding bells are finally ringing!" Anas called out as he stepped into the house, his voice carrying through the hall like an announcement at a grand festival.

Anisa bolted up from the couch. "Wait, really?" she gasped, rushing toward him with wide eyes.

Grinning, Anas reached out and gave her a playful twist of her hijab, making her yelp and swat at his hand. "Yes, really. You all better start getting ready because the date has been fixed!"

"What date?" Yusra demanded, hurrying down the stairs with her twin, Samha, hot on her heels. Both were still tying their hijabs, nearly tripping over each other in their haste.

"What do you mean, 'what date?' Whose wedding do you think?" Anas teased, watching their confusion turn to wide-eyed curiosity. "Your dearest older brother, of course. Looks like none of you want to beat him to it, so he's taking the lead."

The twins exchanged a look, Yusra whispering, "It can't be Aslam. No way."

Samha nodded, then turned to Anas, her hands on her hips. "Ya Anas, stop playing games. Who's the bride?"

"Smart guessers you are," Anas said, smirking as he dragged another playful twist at Anisa's scarf before stepping back to evade her swats. "It's Faiza! She's the lucky woman who's agreed to put up with your brother's wahala."

"Faiza?!" Anisa squealed, her face lighting up. "Oh my God! I love her. I knew it would happen. I shipped them from day one. She's perfect for him!"

"She's going to fit in so well here," Munayah added, abandoning her iPad on the coffee table to join in the excitement. "The best sisters-in-law in the world, right here."

"Exactly. You're all so lucky," Anas said dramatically, leaning against the armrest of the couch as if basking in their excitement. Well he feels accomplished after what he's done.

"Now get to work. Two months. That's all you've got. Faiza's father doesn't want any delays and honestly, what does Abdullah even have to prepare?" He added.

"Two months?!" Yusra clutched her head. "We'll need at least five tailors to get everything done on time. I don't trust one single person not to disappoint us."

"Ya Abdullah is the one who'll disappoint us if we're not careful," Samha muttered, already scrolling through her phone to find a list of tailors. "But we're making this wedding happen whether he likes it or not."

"Speaking of which," Munayah chimed in, "will he even agree to an event? I mean, it's Ya Abdullah we're talking about."

"Faiza doesn't like events much either, but she's willing to have one because of her event-planner friend. Abdullah, though?" Anas shook his head, grinning. "No hope. He's already threatening to keep it as quiet as possible."

"Typical," Yusra groaned, flopping onto the couch beside their mother, who had just emerged from her room, dressed in a Chiganvy atamfa bubu.

"What is all this noise about?" Hajiya Rabi asked, her voice calm but curious as her daughters erupted in excited chatter.

"Abdullah is getting married!" they all chorused, the words tumbling over one another.

Hajiya Rabi raised her brows, then turned to Anas with a knowing smile. "Finally? It's been decided?"

She had spoken to Abdullah about Faiza just a few days ago, and he had finally admitted he was ready to move forward with the preparations. Her consent had been easy to give; Faiza was a good match for him.

Now, with the uncles soon joining to finalize the details, everything was set in motion. It felt like a dream come true but there was no mistaking the distant air Abdullah carried. He wasn't truly eager —more like a man running from something.

Still, she had a quiet confidence in Faiza. From everything she'd learned about the girl, it was clear she had the kind of gentle strength that could turn even her most stubborn son into putty in her hands. It was only a matter of time. 

Her heart softened as she thought of Abdullah. He always acted as though his heart was made of stone, convinced he couldn't be moved by love.

But she knew better. Her son wasn't coldhearted —he was just careful. When the time came, when he truly fell, it would be with a depth and intensity that would consume him entirely bordering obsession. That was the kind of man he was. 

It was why he guarded his emotions so fiercely, why he held people at arm's length. Once someone broke through that wall, there would be no going back. His love would be all-consuming, unshakable, and undeniable.

And for some reason, she had a feeling that Faiza was the one who might just unravel him.

Anas nodded. "He's already spoken to Faiza's father and the uncles will finalize the date next week. But it's looking like two months from now."

"That's good," she said, lowering herself onto the couch with a pleased expression. "The earlier, the better."

"Still," Anisa said, narrowing her eyes. "How did you manage to convince Ya Abdullah to agree? He's been acting so... distant."

"Faiza is just like him," Anas replied, his tone light but thoughtful. "Quiet, introvert, no nonsense. He knows she'll handle his introverted big head better than anyone else."

"Mama," Yusra whined, turning to their mother with pleading eyes. "Please convince him to let us have a proper event. It's the first wedding in this family. We have to celebrate it!"

"You know your brother," Hajiya Rabi replied with a chuckle. "If he's agreed to marry, that's already a miracle. Let's not push our luck."

"Miracle indeed," Samha muttered, still scrolling through her phone. "But we'll take it."

"Speaking of miracles," Anisa said, fixing Anas with a glare, "you didn't even invite us to your anniversary dinner! What kind of brother are you?"

Anas groaned, rubbing his temple. "I told Abdullah to tell you! He must've forgotten. He's been so distracted lately."

"Maybe the thought of marriage is finally catching up with him," Anisa teased, a sly smile curving her lips.

"Next up, Yusra and Samha," Anas declared, clearly enjoying himself.

"If you mention my name again—" Yusra began, waving a hand threateningly.

"Try me, and see what happens," Samha added, rolling up her sleeves dramatically.

Tabdijam😂😂😂 I hope that is the spelling. Look at me 1:50AM writing jama'a only for the characters to twist my plot😭 Toh maganan auren Abdullah ta tabbata fa. Our guy don betray us.

Omo the Elsuraj sisters don enter one chance🤣🤣🤣 heartbreak upon heartbreak. Hot hot breakfasts haka. It's lonely at the top lonely lonely lonely💀 you can't have money and love at the same time I heard🤣

You guys byeeeeee! Lemme sleeeeeppppp. Flood me with comments I might get courage type again.

QOTD: Would you rather have the ability to pause time or the ability to rewind time? Rewind🤣 so we can catch liars.