Part 3

Castles Crumbling
♣
“Power went to my head and I couldn’t stop.
Ones I love tried to help so I ran them off.
And here I sit alone, behind walls of regret.
Falling down like promises that I never kept.
And I feel like my castle’s crumbling down.
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground.
And you don’t want to know me,
I will just let you down.
You don’t want to know me now…”
~ Taylor Swift (ft. Hayley Williams), Castles Crumbling (from The Vault).

♣

“Thunder rumbling. Castles crumbling.
I am trying to hold on…
God knows that I tried seeing the bright side,
But I’m not blind anymore…”
~ Katy Perry, Wide Awake

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45
Gateway House at De Montfort University was tall, with glass windows that
reflected the rays of the cool sun. Ayra took it all in, her hands in the
pockets of the coat she’d worn over a black maxi dress.
She was tired; not as much as she’d been the previous night as at the time
Adil and Ayman dropped her and Ibtihaj at the hotel, but tired all the same.
However, she knew the earlier she got into everything, the earlier they could
wrap up and move on, no matter how hard it would be.
Beside her, Ibtihaj stood quietly, knowing her best friend needed the silence
more than anything. Ibtihaj’s heart was heavy as she knew a lot of what they
will uncover during the duration of the trip would hurt but it had to be
done. Also, she was always ready to be a comic relief once the opportunity
presented itself. A smile from Ayra would always be worth it, no matter
how little the smile was.
The front door of the Gateway House was pulled open, getting both Ayra
and Ibtihaj’s attention, and out stepped a friendly looking female with a
wide smile and orange dyed hair. She smiled wider when she spotted both
Ayra and Ibtihaj and hurried over.
“Hi! Welcome to De Montfort!”
Ayra found herself smiling back. “Hi. Stace, right?”
Stace nodded. “Right. You’re Ayra and you’re Ibtihaj, right?”
Ibtihaj nodded. “We are.”
“Thanks for agreeing to be our student tour guide.” Ayra told her. “You
have no idea how much you’ve eased our trip for us.”
Stace laughed beautifully. “Oh it’s alright. I’m always down for such once
I’m free and also…” Her smile turned bashful. “I’m a big fan of your
husband, Ayra. I admit that I didn’t know you were married to the Ibrahim
Fahad as at the time I accepted your request but when you sent your photo
so I could recognise the both of you, I knew you looked familiar and so I
did a little digging. I’m honoured.”
Ayra’s heart was once again battering. She kept the smile on her face, using
a lot of strength. “Well, I’m honoured.”
Stace grinned before turning to Ibtihaj who had a small – and fool proof
insincere – smile on her face as she asked “Why don’t we get started on the
tour?”
Stace nodded, quite excitedly. “Of course. This way, please!”

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The interior of the building was warm and Ayra was grateful. Stace shared
with them that she was just starting as a fourth year Aeronautical
Engineering student and that from time to time, she volunteered as a
student tour to those who wished to visit the university. She explained to
Ibtihaj and Ayra that Gateway House was not the only building that held
the Faculty of Computing, Engineering, and Media. According to her, the
faculty also used the Clephan Building and Courtyard Studios, the Leicester
Media School – Bede Island, and Mills Studio.
As Stace continued with the history of the Gateway House which had been
built in 1960, Ayra got distracted by the pictures on the walls. What seemed
like faculty members and snapshots from different events stared back at
her. At some point, the pictures changed to much younger faces and a
particular one got Ayra’s attention. She stopped right in front of it and
asked “Who is this?”
Stace and Ibtihaj, who’d been walking two steps ahead, stopped and turned.
Stace looked at the said picture and her face lit up, her smile ready to split it
in two. “Oh, that’s Engineer Abdulmanan Abubakar Harun. He’s one of
De Montfort’s stars. He studied Aeronautical Engineering here and he’s so
good. He’s also one of my distance lecturers and you have no idea just how
loved he is around here.”
Ayra simply stared at the photo of the man she didn’t recognise. It was a
portrait photo of him and while his smile was small, it was sincere and the
warmth of it was captured perfectly. He was quite handsome too. She
looked away, turning back to Stace. “What made him a star?”
“Best academic records for the university from the faculty. His records still
aren’t broken so…”
Ayra could only nod, turning to glance at the photo once again. Ibtihaj
spoke then. “He’s a fine man sha.”
Ayra laughed and so did Stace who nodded. “He is. Let’s move on?”
Ayra and Ibtihaj nodded and Stace led the way. It wasn’t long before they
came across a photo of The Hexad squad, with who Stace said was the
Dean of the Faculty; Professor Shushma Patel. According to Stace, the
photo was taken in late June when the squad paid a surprise visit to the
university and made donations “everyone couldn’t stop talking about”.
Ayra nearly let out a small, dry laugh. Back then in June, she’d been
convinced the squad and Ibrahim were on a work trip and not once had he
or any of them mentioned that they’d stopped by Leicester. With how well

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she used to keep up with the activities of the squad, it was funny that she’d
missed information about the trip.
The photo was beautiful; the dean standing between Ibrahim and Bella
while the others stood on both their sides. Their smiles were wide and
lovely, as though they’d been captured just before they started laughing.
Ayra’s chest ached as she zeroed on Ibrahim, noticing that his eyes were
bright and his smile was so beautiful; a smile she could no longer bring
herself to lovingly appreciate with butterflies swarming her belly.
“Those who were present that day nearly lost it.” Stace told the best friends.
“It was one thing to hear about the squad and it was another to see them
here on campus. It was a whole different thing to witness these smiles.” She
sighed dreamily. “They’re so beautiful and so talented too. We look up to
them as people beyond our reach. They’re that good and you have no idea
how many people would kill to be in your shoes, Ayra.”
“Yes,” Ibtihaj’s voice lacked emotion and came out flat as she stared at the
photo. “We can imagine.”
If you saw them for who they really are, Ayra wanted to ask, would you still love them
the same way you’re doing now?
She didn’t ask though; she knew better than to do so. Staring at Ibrahim for
a minute longer, Ayra looked away and asked Stace if there were members
of the faculty who’d stayed at De Montfort for as long as a decade back,
when the squad were still enrolled as students. Stace nodded, her face still
bright.
“There are! You two are in luck because all five to six of them came in to
work today. Come on.” She turned around and marched forward. “I’ll take
you first to Professor McGonall. She’s the best place to start from.”
Professor Maureen McGonall was a woman in her early sixties whose every
attribute screamed “Mother!”. She first engaged in little conversation with
Stace, feigning sternness, before she asked who Stace had come along with.
When Stace introduced Ayra and Ibtihaj and then stated that Ayra was
Ibrahim Fahad’s wife, the older woman gasped and the way her expression
softened had no reason making Ayra tear up.
Professor McGonall stepped forward and pulled Ayra into a very warm
hug, patting her back with soft strength. “Oh my God…” She pulled back,
looked at Ayra for a minute, and then hugged her again. “It’s so nice to
meet you, Ayra. When the squad visited in June, I was out of the country
for my daughter’s wedding and all I heard was how hushy Ibrahim had
been about the woman he’d married.”

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Stace snorted. “They’re all like that. Even Engineer Harun.”
Professor McGonall pulled back and glared at Stace. “Do not ever speak
about Abdulmanan like that, young woman.”
“Yes ma’am!”
The hug the older woman gave Ibtihaj was just as nice as Ayra’s had been
and Ibtihaj savoured it the way Ayra did. When Professor McGonall asked
why they’d come to the university, Ayra let her know – with practiced
shyness – that she and Ibtihaj just wanted to peep into Ibrahim’s past and
hear all the “embarrassing details he wouldn’t share”.
Professor McGonall laughed heartily, her head thrown back. “God, I love
you both.” She then took Ayra’s hand in hers before taking Ibtihaj’s in her
other. “Come, let’s go find the others. We’ll gladly indulge you two. The
stories of Ibrahim and the squad are our favourite ones to share.”
Stace went along with them. “I hope you’ll indulge me too.”
Professor McGonall sighed wearily. “Yes, Stace, we’ll indulge you too.”
Unable to help it, a small laugh bubbled out of Ayra and it made Ibtihaj
smile. It made Professor McGonall smile too. She – Professor McGonall –
took them to other offices and just as she’d been, the professors and
associates who’d worked with her for as long as she’d been in De Montfort
were genuinely happy to see Ayra and Ibtihaj. They also loved the fact that
Ayra was there to learn about Ibrahim’s life as a student of the university
and so they led three of them – Ibtihaj, Ayra, and Stace – to a tearoom
where there were more than enough chairs to take them all.
Tea was made and passed around, Ayra appreciating how warm her fingers
became as they stayed wrapped around the cup. One of the male associates
began once they were all comfortable, his smile fond as he went down
memory lane. He sighed. “Ah, Ibrahim and the squad…Ibrahim’s always
the one who stands out to us, right?” The others nodded and he went on.
“We call him our evolver. After all, the Ibrahim who came into De
Montfort wasn’t the same one who’d left. He’s also not the same person
who came back here months ago too.”
Professor McGonall nodded. “True.” She then smiled at Ayra. “Don’t
worry, we’ll explain.”
Ayra could only offer a grateful smile. Sitting there in that tea room,
surrounded by her best friend, their university tour guide, and men and
women who’d reached the peaks or the near peaks of their careers, Ayra
heard the story of the man she’d married.

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Ibrahim, they told her, had been a quiet seventeen year old when he’d first
stepped foot in De Montfort. Back then, he lacked excitement towards the
course he’d selected, they said, and he did not like it when voices got raised,
especially if it was going to lead to a scuffle or a near fight.
“It was the first thing that told us there was more to him than he was letting
on.” One of the female professors said. “But he never wanted to talk about
it and we know when to prod and push and when to take a step back.”
Ayra’s chest squeezed. The story continued. A month into classes and he
slowly began opening up. Ibrahim still didn’t talk as much as the others but
the excitement about studying Software Engineering showed little by little
and then he met Bella. For their first assignment as a class, the both of
them – Ibrahim and Bella – had been paired and according to the
professors and associates, that was what began Ibrahim’s change.
“Oh he was smitten alright.” Professor McGonall told Ayra, Ibtihaj, and
Stace once she’d asked if they – Ayra and Ibtihaj – knew Bella and Ibrahim
had dated and both women nodded. She sipped her tea while the others
nodded in agreement. “I couldn’t blame him. Isabella Valentino was a
sensation. If you think she’s turning a lot of heads now, you should have
seen her then.”
“Seventeen, bright eyed, drop dead beautiful, and wild.” A male said and
then shook his head. “She caused chaos with the guys within and outside
the university environment…I’ve never seen someone who hated her
middle name the way she did.”
“And it fit her so well.” A female said, her smile small but pretty. “Isabella
Mariá sounded so perfect but she hated it and now that I think about it, she
never really said why.”
“It was her grandmother’s name.” Professor McGonall revealed. “And
according to what I’d been told, that particular grandmother wasn’t a role
model. However, that’s by the side. She’s dropped the name now so…”
They got back on track and told Ayra, Ibtihaj, and Stace about how the
grouping had been the perfect example of two opposites coming together.
According to them, Ibrahim was as cool as ice while Bella was a volcano
always on the verge of erupting. They also mentioned that Bella liked things
going her way and she did everything possible, even when it didn’t seem as
though she would be able to. Bella, they said, was one to go to whatever
lengths for her own gain.
They told Ayra and the others how Ibrahim’s crush had been so obvious
that the whole school noticed and people used to place bets on whether or

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not Bella and Ibrahim would end up together. People rooted for the both
of them, they told Ayra, and little by little, Ibrahim came out of the shell
he’d been as at the time he resumed on his first day.
“It was a blessing and a curse, Ayra.” The most vocal male said. “Especially
when Bella and Anneth became friends and Ibrahim got roped into their
circle which expanded to fit Tobi and Jalal before they met Nathaniel who
fell head over heels for Anneth.”
“Ibrahim was actually consistent in pursuing Bella, to the extent that it
almost got painful to watch, but it eventually paid off when she accepted to
be with him. However, that was the start of what would be their good and
bad days here on campus.”
Professor McGonall sighed. “I had grey hair because of those children.”
The professors laughed and some of them said “Tell me about it.”
Bella being Ibrahim’s woman, they said, made him insanely popular and
when it was noticed that together, the six of them – including Nathaniel
when he came around – made a hell of a team, their popularity skyrocketed.
The period was crazy, the professors and associates continued, and it
became obvious that the squad had to be paired together for projects if the
university wanted good results and they – the squad – never disappointed.
When they weren’t doing anything academic, the squad did everything they
could; parties, clubs, a stint with drugs that they narrowly escaped, fights,
graffiti, trips…Everything.
“And you should know that these plans were always made by Tobi, Jalal,
Anneth and Bella. Nathaniel was a goner for Anneth so he went with them
once he could but Ibrahim though…” The male trailed off and then he
exhaled, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Ibrahim didn’t like those outings
at first but the thing with having friends like that is that you’ll always get
influenced and he did. There was a time their grades tanked and I don’t
know how they did it but they pulled themselves back up.”
“Thank God they did.” Professor McGonall said, putting her now empty
teacup away. “I don’t think I’ve ever had my heart in my throat for as long I
did back then because of that man and his friends. Calling his parents didn’t
do much because they didn’t want to do the needful and that kind of
explained why Ibrahim had been the way he’d been when he first resumed.”
“Anyways,” Another female continued. “Some days with them were good,
some days were bad, and others were just disastrous. More times than we
could count, we asked them to slow down. They never listened but they
always learned, to the best of their abilities. Thankfully, they stayed on track

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too and started making plans to establish their company. We cheered them
on, of course, because we knew they were going to make it but…”
Ayra, whose chest was cut way too many times, held her cup even tighter.
“But…?”
The male professor who’d not said so much in the time they’d spent in that
room sighed heavily. “We were worried about how long they were actually
going to last. Final year was a lot for all of them, not just the squad and
Ibrahim, but when it came to the six of them, that year made some things
clear to us.”
“Like?” Ayra asked. “Things like what?”
“Like how they were good as a work or business team.” Professor
McGonall replied, her voice steady and nearly flat. “They made the best
ideas and had the best implementation plans but that year, they argued a lot
and they went on bad behaviour streaks a lot. As partners, they were good
but as friends, they seemed like a mix of the wrong people and it wasn’t
always obvious but there were times when Ibrahim didn’t quite fit. He
didn’t see it though so…”
“Also,” The most active male added. “We noticed that while Ibrahim and
Bella made a good couple, they lacked the type of chemistry that’ll keep you
and your partner together for a long time. Then, Ibrahim had promised
he’d marry her and just like we’re sitting here now, we sat then and said that
in the long run, Ibrahim wasn’t going to marry Bella.” He then smiled at
Ayra. “And we were right.”
“I’m glad they’re still together though.” A female professor stated. “All of
them as a squad, I mean. I’m glad they’re calmer too and they’ve done
well.” She smiled at Ayra. “I’ve seen pictures of you with them. There aren’t
any recent ones but it’s nice to see that you all are so tight knitted. I hope
it’s beautiful.”
A knife was twisting in Ayra’s chest but she smiled and nodded. Ibtihaj,
who also smiled and nodded, was the one who replied. “It is.”
“Then we’re glad.” Professor McGonall said, sincerity lacing each word.
“Ibrahim’s life here was a rollercoaster honestly, but you should know that
while he came in as an overly introverted seventeen year old, he left still as
an introvert but as one with an extroverted side that scared us when it came
out in its full glory.”
They laughed and Ayra cracked a small smile. Professor McGonall spoke
when they were sober. “Those were how his days were. If you want to

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know even more, we can point out places around the campus and also
around town that were his and the others’ favourites. Do you want that?”
Ayra nodded, feigning eagerness. “Yes please.” The lie slipped past her lips
easily. “He already listed a number of places so let’s see if those places
tally.”
Professor McGonall laughed and nodded. “Very well.”
Many of the places they called were already on Ayra and Ibtihaj’s list and
Ayra added the names of places that were absent, her façade slowly
crumbling. They – the professors and associates – went on to share more
memories about Ibrahim and the squad, laughing in between. They made
mention of Serkan and Aliana and how both of them were a match made in
heaven. They spoke about how surprising it had been for them when they –
Bella, Ibrahim, Serkan, Aliana, and the other members of the squad –
returned from the one trip they had to Turkey courtesy of the Yilmazs and
Bella began calling Ibrahim Serkan while he called her Sevgilim.
Ayra could picture it all so clearly and it hurt so much as it clashed with the
life she’d always mentally conjured about him, even before his marriage
proposal had come to her.
Eventually, duty called for them and the crowd had to disperse. They took
photos though and Ayra said she and Ibtihaj would be in touch when she
knew very well that she was never going to do so. When they left the
tearoom and Stace – who had been stunned with how much new
information she’d gotten – asked if the tour could continue, Ayra asked for
a break to use the restroom. Ibtihaj said she’d use the restroom too and
Stace nodded, her smile still so bright.
The best friends were the only ones in the female restroom so Ibtihaj
secured the door lock in place before turning to face her best friend, her
heart breaking at the sight of Ayra gripping the edges of the marble sink
slabs so tightly that her knuckles paled.
Ibtihaj felt the raw pain licking at her heart. “Ayra…”
Ayra, her lower lip trembling, lowered her head and let her tears fall, hoping
and praying that the pain stopped although she knew there was a high
chance it was only going to get worse. Her shoulders shook and when a sob
broke free from her throat, she let go of the slab and brought her hands to
her mouth just so she wouldn’t make another sound and it was so, so hard.
Ibtihaj closed the space between them and hugged her best friend, blinking
back her own tears. “I’m so sorry, Ayra. It’ll be fine soon In Shaa Allah.”

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Ayra could only keep crying, her hands still by her mouth while her head
rested against Ibtihaj’s chest.
Back in Aomi, Ibrahim sat on the loveseat in Ayra’s room, staring at the
phone in his hands. He’d cried so much that there was a sort of numbness
that deluded him into thinking his chest wasn’t torn open and that he didn’t
have wounds that would take a lot of time to heal.
Breathing in and out, he unlocked he device and pulled up his contacts,
scrolling until he got to the particular one he wanted. He clicked on the call
icon before he could think himself out of what he was about to do;
something he’d never done, at least not in a very long time.
The line rang for a little bit before it was picked up on the other end.
Ibrahim heard ruffling before his father spoke. “Hello, Ibrahim.”
“Hi, Dad.” Ibrahim swallowed. “Please I need your help.”
A moment passed before Salim spoke again. “I’ll be right there.”
The relief slamming into him brought tears to Ibrahim’s eyes. “Thank you,
Dad.”
“You’re welcome.”

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46
In the places she and Ibtihaj visited and through the words of those who’d
known the squad personally (and from a distance), Ayra lived through what
Ibrahim’s life had been while in Leicester. It was a very painful ride.
They visited the libraries where she pictured Ibrahim reading with Bella and
the others. In cafes, she learned what had been his favourite things to order
and how he was rarely alone. If he wasn’t part of a study group, she was
told, then he was with Bella or he was with the others and if they weren’t
coming up with a plan they wanted to bring to life after graduation, they
were catching up on what they’d missed or they were neck deep in mischief.
In clubhouses and bars, she found out what Ibrahim’s drinking pattern was
once he and the squad went to party or when he went alone with Bella; one
glass of one expensive wine or the other which he nursed throughout the
time they spent, taking little sips. They told her and Ibtihaj that Ibrahim was
always the most sober, except on rare occasions when the squad got him to
join them in drinking to stupor.
In alleyways and in shops, she found out spots where he kissed and had
been kissed, all of the kisses shared with none other than Bella. In
restaurants, she found out where they’d gone on dates and how he always
had a flower; a classic red rose or when the celebration called for it, a
bouquet of whatever it is she’d been talking about.
Ibrahim Fahad, she learned, was held in high regards by those who knew
him and those who knew about him. When it came to his relationship with
Bella, there were only two sides; those who could die on the hill that they
were endgame and then those who saw them as a beautiful couple but were
sure they wouldn’t end up staying together until the end of time. There was
no in-between.
Although Ayra told herself she didn’t care, she sometimes found herself
wondering how things would have been if life had turned out differently
and both of them – Ibrahim and Bella – had been allowed to get married to
each other.
Maybe they would have been happy, she told herself, or maybe they’d have realised
they didn’t quite fit and maybe they would have gone their separate ways when they didn’t
have more they could do to keep their relationship going.
At the end of the day, she would never know. Things didn’t happen
differently and she was living in the reality of all of it.
On their last night in Leicester, Adil invited them for dinner at an upscale
restaurant downtown. When he said he was alone as Ayman had gone to

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Manchester to sort out a few things, Ayra decided to back out of the dinner
and didn’t rest until she’d convinced Ibtihaj to go and make the most of it.
After all, Ayra said, Adil was going to make a move to marry Ibtihaj one day
and she wasn’t going to let what had become of her own love story stop her
from ensuring Ibtihaj’s love story bloomed in the best of ways. Ibtihaj had
done way too much for her and she was always going to be grateful.
That night, as she lay in bed, Ayra thought about Ayman for the first time
and how throughout the ride from the airport to Leicester, he’d been
different from the man she met in the café. He smiled the same way and
had the same manner of speech but throughout the ride, she’d learnt that
he was more of a listener than a talker and somehow, being in that same
vehicle with him brought a calmness she appreciated more than anything.
She wanted to tell him thank you but he was in Manchester, according to
Adil, and she had no way to reach him. So she put it at the back of her
mind to say thank you when next she saw him. If all went well with Adil
and Ibtihaj, she had no doubt she and Ayman would see themselves more.
She rolled over to lie on her back and for the longest moment, she stared at
the ceiling, her mind blank. When a thought crept in, she found herself
wondering how things would unravel on Ibrahim’s end, especially with how
the dynamics of the squad was changing, heading towards a situation where
they’d have to decide if they were going to move forward together or apart.
With how he’d been acting before she and Ibtihaj left and with all she’d
found out, Ayra knew deep, deep inside that he would have been one of the
best souls out there if he’d gone through the right ways. She had no doubt
that he was going to set things right in his life and for everyone around him
but when it came to what they had, it was a summer dream. They were
never going to be the same and she wasn’t going to subject herself to all of
it, no matter how it was going to kill her to leave behind the man he’d be
evolving into and everything they had shared which she’d held dear.
Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, Ayra rolled back to her side and curled
up into a foetal position. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself cry, praying
that she fell asleep that way. She prayed she didn’t dream and that she
actually rested. They – she and Ibtihaj – had a train ride to London the very
next morning after all.
♣
Bella tied the sash of her robe and brought the security screen to life so she
could see who had rang her doorbell at such an early hour of the morning
when the sun was barely breaking through Aomi’s horizon.

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The sight of Ibrahim had her raising a brow and she stared at him for a
moment longer before she sighed and proceeded to open the door. The
snarky remark that had formed died on her tongue when she realised he
wasn’t alone. Standing behind him were handymen, all with cardboard
boxes yet to be assembled for the things they were to carry.
With wide eyes, Bella swung her gaze to Ibrahim whose expression was
impassive, the only flicker of emotion being the sadness in his eyes. She
tried to sound calm and it took a lot, especially since her heart had dropped,
her chest squeezing in a funny way. “Serkan –”
Ibrahim cut her off. “It’s Ibrahim, Isabella. Serkan’s gone and you of all
people should know that.”
“Ibrahim –”
“I’m here to pack up every item of mine.” He told her, not finding it in
himself to care much about the shock that appeared on her face. “I wanted
to come in without ringing the doorbell but the last thing I wanted was to
walk in with people into a scene I shouldn’t see, especially if Jalal was
sleeping over.”
Bella’s face was losing colour. “Ibrahim –”
He pushed her aside, doing so carefully although he didn’t see the need to.
He then asked the handymen to step into the apartment. They complied, all
six of them, and Ibrahim followed, leaving Bella in the foyer to try and
wrap her head around everything.
When the situation made sense in her head, she went after him and met him
in the living room, directing the handymen to pull down their photos and
the paintings he’d done. She grabbed his arm and made him face her.
“You’re breaking up with me? Are you crazy?!”
“I could ask you that, Bella.” Ibrahim said calmly. “After everything, do you
expect me to stay?”
“So what?” She asked bitterly. “You’re going to break up with me and think
you’ll go scot free? Did you forget what Nate said on Thursday?” Her smile
was ugly. “You’re going to lose everything, Ibrahim, even after all your
efforts and your blood, sweat, and tears. Are you okay with that?”
In that moment it was so clear to Ibrahim that Bella wasn’t a beautiful
woman. She was a deceptive treasure and his father had been right to say he
– Ibrahim – had been infatuated with the idea of having a woman like her
by his side and not with her as a person. But not anymore.

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“Yes, I am.” He replied, emboldened by the way her expression morphed
into one of disbelief as she’d clearly not been expecting his reply. “If that’s
the price of cutting myself off from all of you now that I know just how
much I meant to each one of you, then yes, Bella. I’m ready to lose
everything.”
She had no words to say in reply and she couldn’t even try. Ibrahim asked
one of the handymen to leave a particular vase before he turned back to
Bella.
“I’ve made peace with that, Bella. It’s what I’ve been doing since Thursday.
You guys were right. I was a loner back then and I was so focused on filling
up the void in my life that I made myself genuinely happy with you all even
when things didn’t sit right with me until I became desensitized towards it
all. I held you all dear, especially you, and I let you all have so much control
over my life that it always felt right when you called the shots and I gave in
because I was convinced I loved you and I loved everyone else. I was also
convinced that you all knew better than I did. That stops now, Bella. I’m
done with it all; with you, with the others, with the company…Everything.
So I’m going to clear all my stuff and leave your lives so I can start afresh
and build mine. I’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”
At her hands, Bella balled her hands into fists, grappling at the courage she
no longer had. “You won’t be fine. It won’t be long before you start
crawling back to us to take you back. You’ll be the laughing stock,
Ibrahim.”
He smiled and it was prettily small; one she’d never seen before. “We’ll just
have to wait and see, right?”
Not liking how she was losing control of the situation, Bella switched to
rage. “Ibrahim Fahad!”
He didn’t say anything else. He simply walked away, leaving her staring at
the spot he’d occupied. As Ibrahim led the handymen up, his smile dropped
and he told himself to stay strong. It was only the beginning. There was still
a lot to come.
♣
Before they got into their business in London, Ayra took a day to explore
and visit attractions with Ibtihaj. For the entire day, she pretended as
though her life was perfect and she made sure to revel in each moment.
At night, when Ibtihaj went to sleep, Ayra picked up her phone and quietly
slid out to the balcony. She’d promised to call Ibrahim but had been putting
it off for the entire day and the last thing she wanted to go to sleep with the

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promise weighing down on her. The line rang for a bit before it was
answered and her chest squeezed when he called her name. “Ayra.”
She didn’t want to notice that he sounded tired but it was a habit and she
wasn’t completely sure how it made her feel. She leaned over the railing,
watching people walk about down below. “Hi, Ibrahim. Was this a bad
time?”
“Nah, not really. I had a busy day but it’s fine. I feel better now that I’m
talking to you. I know that sounds cheesy but it’s the truth.”
The absence of butterflies in her stomach and the way her chest hollowed
made Ayra smile sadly. “I’m glad.”
“So,” He moved something on his end. “Where are you and Ibty now?”
“London. We visited so many places today and she’s knocked out.”
“Oh really? That’s surprising. You’re usually the one to fall asleep first.
Ibty’s an energetic person.”
In an entirely different situation, Ayra would have laughed then. “Well,
today was a lot.”
“Are you tired?” The concern in his voice made her heart ache. “We don’t
have to talk for long, Ayra. There’s always tomorrow In Shaa Allah.”
In that moment, Ayra found herself wishing he wasn’t changing. That he
wasn’t now on the way to being the man she’d always wanted. At least then,
she told herself, it’ll be easier. It would still hurt but it would be a little easier
because she’ll have every reason to avoid and hate him. At least then she’ll
be able to abhor him and not feel bad about it.
She swallowed the lump that settled in her throat. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t. “I
can talk for a little longer.”
“Are you sure?”
She hummed in reply, using that moment to swallow again. She then asked
“What were you doing? You said today was busy.”
He was quiet for a near minute. “I did.”
She straightened. “Ibrahim, what’s going on?”
Another near minute passed before he sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you
until everything got settled but…” He sighed again. “The squad and I are
going to split ways and that affects every aspect of our current lives. It
wasn’t the easiest decision to make but like you said, love isn’t about me
sacrificing a lot for people who won’t do the same for me. It’s been a

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decade of us being together but we’re different people now and we can’t
work out our differences so…”
The tears that surfaced blurred her vision and Ayra’s chest squeezed. She
apologised without even knowing. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh come on, sweetheart. It’s fine…I’ve been trying to clear my stuff from
the places we’ve always hung out at as a squad. There are a lot of things to
clear but I’m on it. I want to be sure everything’s in order before you and
Ibty return. In Shaa Allah I’ll able to and then you and I can talk about
these plans that have been coming together in my head. We also need to
look back at how the past year has been and then set goals for a new year of
being married.”
Her chest squeezed again and Ayra quietly breathed just so she wouldn’t
cry. Ibrahim continued. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I’m going
to do everything possible to ensure we’re good. I promise.”
She nodded with her eyes shut although he wasn’t there. “Okay.”
“Are you okay? Your voice changed.”
Her chest felt too tight. “The weather’s cold.” She lied. “And I’m standing
outside on the balcony.”
“Ayra, please go inside. You don’t want to fall sick.”
A tear slipped and she nodded again. “Okay.”
“I don’t hear you leaving the balcony.”
She opened her eyes and turned around. She stepped back into the room
and ensured she closed the door in a way that he heard it. She then spoke to
him once she had breathed in and out. “I’m in now. Happy?”
“Very.”
“I need to sleep now. I’m so tired.”
He chuckled, the sound lushly deep. “Well done, sweetheart. I’ll leave you
be.”
“Thank you.” She walked in the direction of the bathroom. “You should
get some sleep too, Ibrahim.”
“I’ll do my best, Ayra, I promise.”
She stepped into the monochrome space and closed the door, securing the
lock in place. “Goodnight, Ibrahim.”
“Goodnight.”

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She hung up and put her phone on the floating marble slab before she
squatted and burst into tears with her hands pressed against her mouth just
so she didn’t make a sound that could wake Ibtihaj up. It was the last thing
she wanted to do.
♣
In West London and around London itself, the stories of the squad differed
from those in Leicester. In the stories shared in London, the members of
the squad were older and more focused on getting their company started
while testing and retesting what the world got as the application Ink which
changed electoral processes first in Atlantica and then in other countries
around the world.
Ayra and Ibtihaj heard stories of how the squad worked on their
relationships when they weren’t discussing business as the one year they’d
spent in West London was the rockiest they’d had. On one hand, the stories
said, Bella and Ibrahim had broken up due to her family’s acceptance and
his parents’ rejection but were still finding their way back to each other with
how intertwined their – Bella and Ibrahim’s – lives were. On the other
hand, Anneth and Nathaniel were cities apart and med school had been
tough on him so there were a lot of strains.
“When they got through the year,” One of their ex-mates told Ayra and
Ibtihaj. “It was clear they would get through everything else. I was still of
the opinion that the tensions then changed some dynamics in their
romantic and non-romantic relationships but everyone ended up alright.
Thank God for that.”
Just like in Leicester, Ayra found traces of Ibrahim in places; in cafes, in
shopping centres, in galleries and museums, and in restaurants that fit the
posts on his and Bella’s Instagram pages. Although she still had no idea
how she’d come into the picture, Ayra took in every little detail and
replaced every conjured image she’d had with the reality of what Ibrahim’s
life had actually been.
They did not stay long in London and before they left, Adil made sure he
came over to say hi. Ayra could only smile nostalgically as she watched him
laugh when Ibtihaj said he was obsessed with her. Once upon a time, she –
Ayra – had been obsessed with Ibrahim too. Adil was a good man, she
knew that, but that did not stop Ayra from praying that theirs – Adil and
Ibtihaj’s story – was one that would always be full of love, laughter, joy, and
happiness. That was all her best friend deserved. Nothing else.
From London, the best friends moved to Amsterdam where they spent just
one day watching Serkan Yilmaz and Aliana go about their real lives with

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their daughters, Kehlani and Ayah. They were a beautiful family, Ayra
wouldn’t deny it, and she put it at the back of her mind that when
everything was out in the open, she’ll leave a message for the Yilmazs,
telling them that playing a part in deceiving someone – especially for
something that is to last for a while such as marriage – was not something
to be taken lightly as it could always backfire. No one did know what the
future held in store after all.
From Amsterdam, they moved to Turkey and there in Cappadocia, Ayra
saw the places Ibrahim, Bella, and the others had always posted about. She
also heard tales of how good the squad was and how beautiful Bella and
Ibrahim were as a couple, even when things were hard.
A particular woman in her early seventies who ran a restaurant the squad
frequented to the extent that she had a picture of them and their autographs
on the walls told Ayra that the nicknames Serkan and Sevgilim had come up
in her restaurant and that she’d never forget how beautiful Ibrahim’s smile
had been. According to her, Serkan Yilmaz had inspired them to take both
nicknames.
“He would have given her the sun if she’d asked him to.” She told them in
heavily accented English. “And she liked him, that much was sure, but it
didn’t compare to how far he would go just to ensure she was always
smiling…On some days, they fought, and one thing that was constant was
how his family wasn’t going to accept them but even on those days, he
never lashed back. Even if he did, he never got too loud and he made sure
they were alright before they left.”
She then sighed, staring into space as she recalled everything. “They’re good
people. Crazy people but good all the same, especially Ibrahim. He has the
best heart among them, God bless his soul.”
And that was all it took for Ayra to cry again.

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47
On Tuesday October 19th, the world woke up to news of Ibrahim Fahad
splitting from the squad and from The Hexad. There was also news of him
claiming full ownership of certain applications the company had created,
thereby buying out Bella, Tobi, Jalal, Anneth, and Nathaniel.
The squad, who had been finding it hard to wrap their head around the fact
that Ibrahim didn’t bend the way they wanted, barely had time to think of a
response to the public before the spokesperson of the Fahads issued out a
press statement, confirming the news.
“It is quite unfortunate that this has to happen, especially with how far they
have come as a group both as partners and as friends.” The statement read.
“However, they have reached a point where they have differences that
cannot be overlooked and the only way to settle things peacefully is for
Ibrahim to leave and forge his own new path. We hope for the public’s
understanding and support and we ask that his privacy and that of his
family be respected in this tough time.”
It brought chaos, especially within the company, and the squad barely had
control of the situation no matter how badly they tried to delude
themselves. With the Fahad’s legal team handling everything, it was a big
issue and the first thing they got started on after the press statement was
pulling out Ibrahim’s shares from The Hexad and its partnering companies;
just as Salim had advised Ibrahim to do as there was no way he – Salim –
was going to allow his son walk away with nothing while the squad got
everything.
Forced to give a public statement, Bella smiled tightly at the sea of reporters
in the conference room and spoke with a calmness she definitely did not
have.
“It’s the toughest decision we’ve had to make as a group but it’s for the
best.” In her head, she was wringing Ibrahim’s neck. She kept her smile on
as the cameras flashed non-stop, the sound of the shutters irritating her to
the very core. “We, just like the Fahads, hope that the public understands
and we ask that you allow us process everything at our own pace and in our
ways. Thank you.”
Questions were fired; what exactly had happened, the differences Ibrahim
couldn’t overlook, the future of the company and what would be left of the
squad. Bella did not answer any one of the questions and once she stepped
out of the conference room, she pulled at her hair and screamed.
Up on the executive level, the offices of the others were messes with
broken vases and pieces and upturned furniture. Just like Bella, they pulled

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at their hairs and screamed out in frustration, knowing with undoubted
clarity that they’d underestimated Ibrahim in every way possible; just as
they’d always done.
♣
It was when they landed in Cape Town that Ayra and Ibtihaj got the news.
Ibtihaj’s jaw hit the floor. “Ah!” She turned her phone so Ayra could look
at the article she’d been reading. “Omo, this is crazy!”
Ayra glanced through the displayed article before turning back to her
phone. She put the device to sleep. “I knew about it. I just didn’t think
everything would be put into motion this soon.”
Ibtihaj’s neck should have snapped with how fast she looked Ayra’s way
again, her eyes unusually wide. “You say wetin?!”
Ayra offered her best friend a small smile. “Ibrahim mentioned it. He didn’t
go into details but I got the hang of it.” She then sighed. “It was bound to
happen with how things were going.”
Ibtihaj blinked and blinked again. Her expression then softened. “Ayra…”
“Yes, Ibty, Ibrahim’s really changing and yes, he’s doing the yeye thing of
falling for me but it’s way too late. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though
because it does. It hurts more I can even say.”
Ibtihaj’s face softened further. She let go of her box and hugged Ayra.
“He’s still very mad sha. And don’t you ever say yeye again. You’re better
off with good English. Leave the pidgin to me abeg.”
Ayra couldn’t stop her laughter. “I’m done with you, Ibty.”
Ibtihaj began to pat Ayra’s back. “You’re going to be alright, Ayra. We’re
going to get through this and no matter how long it takes, you’re going to
find your footing and you’re going to be happy again, and you’ll shine just
as brightly as you’ve always done.”
The tears surfaced and Ayra blinked furiously, admitting what had been
plaguing her mind. “What if it never happens? What if I’m never happy
again no matter how hard I try or how hard everyone tries? What if I just
become a shell of person who goes through life without having happiness
that’ll last as long as it should?”
Ibtihaj, who’d teared up, hugged Ayra tighter, shaking her head over the
other’s shoulder. “No, Ayra, no. You will be happy again. It might seem like
it may never happen but you will be. You’ll be happier than you’ve always
been and we’ll be there with you every step of the way, I promise. After

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every hardship will come ease, Ayra, and know that Allah’s promise will
always come to pass. This is one hardship in your life and you will survive
it, that I can assure you.”
Ayra began to cry. “You have no idea how grateful I am to have you, Ibty.”
That made Ibtihaj smile a little. “Me too, Ayra. I’m so grateful so have you
too. We’ll be fine and then you’ll be on bridesmaid duties because if you
allow any of my sisters do that job, I will kill you.”
Ayra let out a watery laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“I love you.” Ibtihaj held on for a moment longer before she pulled back,
smiling. “You’re going to be okay, Ayra.”
Ayra managed a single nod. “In Shaa Allah.”
“In Shaa Allah.” Ibtihaj took Ayra’s hand and her smile widened. “Let’s
go?”
Ayra nodded, smiling back. “Let’s go…Thank you, Ibty.”
“You’re always welcome, Ayra. You’re always welcome.”
♣
Cardboard boxes lined almost every inch of the living room but Ibrahim
did not mind. By the end of the day every box was going to be taken away
and by the next morning, all the paintings he’d wrapped up would be taken
to their new destinations; some to a furnace where they’d be burned and
others to galleries and foundation homes.
He sealed the last box shut and addressed it to a shelter he’d come across.
The men and maybe even the women too at the shelter would have better
use for the clothes he’d gotten from every house he’d shared with one
member of the squad or the other. At least giving it out would be better
than having them disposed of.
When the sound of unsuccessful attempts of the passcode being entered
reached his ears, he pushed the box away and closed the marker he used in
writing addresses. As he straightened, the doorbell rang and then rang
again.
A moment later, the door was being banged on and he heard Tobi’s voice
clearly. “Ibrahim, open up, you bastard! We know you’re in there so you
better open up!”
Ibrahim made his way through the maze of boxes, his pace leisurely slow.
He had actually expected them to show up earlier but with how everything
had come out all at once as per the advice of his family’s legal team,

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Ibrahim knew the squad had a lot to deal with before they got the
opportunity to flee the company and come in search of him.
He stopped in front of the door and let them ring the doorbell and bang on
it for a minute longer before he unlocked the barrier and pulled it open,
speaking immediately.
“If you lay that hand on me, a lawsuit would be at your doorstep by
nightfall. With how much you all have to deal with, a physical assault case is
the last thing you need.”
Tobi’s fist was frozen in air and he was burning with so much rage that he
trembled. His hand dropped and he venomously spat out “Fuck you.”
Ibrahim didn’t flinch or bat a lid. “Thank you.”
Jalal pushed Tobi away and grabbed Ibrahim by fisting his shirt and pulling
him closer so they were face to face, mere inches differentiating their
heights. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ibrahim Fahad?!”
“Leaving your lives and letting you have what you asked for, just like you
said would happen if I didn’t cut my parents off, divorce Ayra, and then
marry Bella.”
Anneth screamed from behind Jalal. “This was not the plan!”
Ibrahim raised a brow and looked at her over Jalal’s shoulder. “Bold of you
to assume there was a plan in the first place.” He returned his gaze to
Jalal’s. His voice frosted. “Plans are agreed on by every involved party
before they’re implemented but since we’re no longer working that way, I
made plans of my own and got started on them. I’m not sorry for that.”
Nathaniel’s smile was ugly and twisted. “You think you’ll get through with
it?”
Ibrahim pried Jalal’s hand from his shirt and pushed him back before he
faced Nathaniel. He put his hands in his pockets. “Seeing how I’ve
approved my shares withdrawal and I’m already buying you out of Ink,
PayDay, and Little Walker, I can say that I’ll go through with it.”
“We worked hard on those!” Tobi shouted.
“So did I.” Ibrahim shot back. “But I worked harder on them because the
ideas came from my head. I worked hard on the company too but you
didn’t want to care about that when you threatened to take it all for
compensation that you obviously do not deserve so there’s no need to care
about you all now. We’re done, guys. My life is mine now and I’m not going
to be stupid enough to let you all have a say in it again.”

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Bella spoke for the first time, her voice a pained whisper. “Ibrahim…”
Ibrahim looked at her. “What? Don’t try to be manipulative now, Isabella.
It’s not going to work. It’s never going to.”
Jalal laughed very dryly and it was clear that he so badly wanted to punch
Ibrahim senseless but he was smart enough to know it wouldn’t end well.
Nathaniel’s question had Ibrahim’s heart dropping and his blood going
cold.
“Does Ayra know why all of this is happening this way?”
Ibrahim would never understand how his expression stayed calm when he
went into overdrive inside. He cracked a small smile. “What’s there to
know?”
Nathaniel took a step forward. “Does she know that everything you two
have had was nothing but a lie? Does she know that the reason why we’re
splitting ways is because you betrayed us after everything we’ve done for
you?”
Ibrahim smiled wickedly, his acting skills terrifying him to no ends. “Bold
of you all to assume I’d not tell her about it. I’m not dumb, Nate.”
Tobi scoffed. “And she hasn’t called or thrown a fit? That’s hard to
believe.”
Ibrahim’s smile widened as he shrugged. Deep inside, fear like he’d never
felt clawed at his entire being. “She’s never been the violent person. The
one you should be scared of is Ibty and they’re on a trip right now so…”
Anneth already had her phone out and unlocked. “I’m going to call her
right now and we’re going to find out whether you’re –”
Ibrahim cut her off, hoping and praying that one of the favours he’d asked
his family’s team for had been done. “You won’t be able reach her. You’ll
never be able to reach her. She’s blocked you everywhere and you don’t
know where she is right now so…”
He watched as they all got out their phones and his chest squeezed while he
held on so tightly to the rope of hope that his hands bled. Relief was like
the oxygen he’d needed so badly when he saw the moment they confirmed
all they had said. His family’s team had gotten them barred from reaching
Ayra, just as he’d asked, because he’d had a tiny hunch they’d use her as a
lifeline when they knew they didn’t have any more.
Anneth stepped forward and pushed him. He barely budged and she hated
it. “You’re going to pay!”

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Ibrahim kept his cool. “I’m already doing so. Instead of you all to be here,
trying to find ways to get me to bend, you should head back to the
company and focus on damage control. I’m a major shareholder and so I’m
crippling you five to some extent. Also, some other stakeholders have
reached out to ask if I’m heading into another company so they can join
me. I didn’t know I had so many supporters but well, things are working
out in my favour so…”
“You’re a monster.” Jalal said, his voice so low. “You’re a fucking
monster.”
Ibrahim, although he found the statement ironic, smiled nicely. “I’ve
learned from you five so…The student should exceed the teacher after all.”
He then sighed. “I have work to do, guys. There’s a lot to clear up and
settle, all thanks to five of you.”
Tobi grasped at straws. “We’ll leak it all to the press. We’ll leak out all the
plans we made and expose the lies we’ve lived up until now.”
Ibrahim feigned consideration for a moment, deluding them into thinking
they had something against him. He then shrugged, his smile returning.
“Go ahead.”
Tobi’s shock was as clear as day, just like the others’. “W-what?”
“Go ahead.” Ibrahim repeated. “You’ll only make things messy and it
would be against you five because you’ll be pulling yourselves through the
dirt and the public will see you all for what you truly are; five people
desperate enough to do anything to stay in control. Besides, you don’t have
evidence. No recordings and no contracts. Concerning the texts we’ve
shared all this time, we live in a world where deep fake technology exists
and forgery is a thing so…It’ll be my word against yours. Suit yourself,
guys, really.”
Having the upper hand over them did not taste sweet to Ibrahim, not when
he knew he’d lied and gone to lengths to shelter Ayra from the truth. Salim
had said there was a high chance he – Ibrahim – would have to tell Ayra the
truth and although it seemed likely, Ibrahim was praying sincerely that it
never got to that point. If it did, he prayed it ended well for them the way it
had ended well for his parents.
Anneth slapping him pulled him back to the present and she slapped him
again before Nathaniel pulled her back. A sob tore free from her throat. “I
hate you, Ibrahim! I hate you!”
Nathaniel pulled her with him, glaring at Ibrahim. “This isn’t over, Ibrahim.
I’ll make sure of it.”

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Ibrahim simply smiled while his cheek burned. Tobi repeated Nathaniel’s
words and so did Jalal before he took Bella’s hand and said “Come on,
Amore.”
Ibrahim felt the pain of the betrayal again and it took him a lot to keep
smiling and say “I’m wishing you two the best. You two deserve each other,
really.”
While Jalal flipped him off with the middle finger, Bella looked ready to
burst into tears, her face contoured in pain. Jalal pulled her along with him
and she didn’t stop looking at Ibrahim until they were out of sight.
Ibrahim stepped into the apartment and locked the door before his knees
gave way and he fell to the ground. Holding his head in his hands, he
focused on breathing in and out, telling himself that he was going to be
fine.
In Cape Town, Ayra stepped onto the balcony of the luxurious shortlet
apartment unit she and Ibtihaj rented. Folding her arms on the railing, she
leaned forward and stared at the property on the other side of the street,
recognising the house nestled between the trees.
From where she stood, she saw the terrace and its wooden railing; the same
place Bella and Ibrahim had stood and gotten their photo taken. The same
photo that she’d left hanging in their – Bella and Ibrahim’s – living room;
one place she was never stepping foot into again.

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48
The restaurant was one Ayra would have missed had she not done her
research while trying to unravel all the lies the squad had told so she could
piece the puzzle together.
It was a hole in the wall restaurant whose exterior was nothing
extraordinary but its interior was so beautiful and cosy that she didn’t feel
the rush to leave or go through the regular motions as she’d done in the
places she and Ibtihaj had visited in Europe.
Dark tiled floors, cream painted walls, dark topped wooden tables, and
plush velvet seats came together to create a beauty, complimenting the
warm lighting and the tall ceilings alongside the faux vines that were
wrapped around pillars.
Apart from a couple in a corner, the restaurant was empty and Ayra knew
she and Ibtihaj had arrived at just the perfect time; with half an hour left
until its official closing time. Leading the way, she walked to one of the wall
tables and slid into a seat. Ibtihaj did the same and together, they looked
around, taking it all in.
There were paintings on the walls and a few pictures. The paint strokes
were overly familiar and Ayra knew if she walked up to them, she’d see the
signature of Serkan Fahad. Among the pictures, one was of Bella and
Ibrahim looking cosy and loving with her leaning into his side while his arm
stayed wrapped around her shoulders. Both their smiles were beautiful but
Ibrahim’s was warmer and he looked so at home and at ease that Ayra’s
chest hurt a bit.
Another photo that got Ayra’s attention was one of two people who had
their backs turned to the camera. The male was tall and familiar and Ayra
could only stare at him for an entire minute before she turned to the female
who he had his arm around her waist. The woman in the picture was
captured looking sideways and Ayra recognised the side profile a moment
later.
“Ayra,” Ibtihaj asked, her eyes on the same photo. “Aren’t those Ibrahim’s
parents?”
Ayra nodded, her chest back to being heavy. “They are.”
“Oh wow…This restaurant must have a lot of history of them.”
Ayra nodded again, looking from the photo of Salim and Fareeda to that of
Ibrahim and Bella. “It must.”

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A minute later, they were joined by the owner of the restaurant; a Xhosa
woman in her mid-sixties who radiated warmth in every way possible. From
all she’d read about the place, Ayra knew the woman’s name was Thandiwe;
a woman who loved it when customers stayed behind to listen to her
stories. She – Thandiwe – also made the best meals, especially soups, and
the reviews she had online were nothing short of beautiful.
“Hello, ladies.” Thandiwe said, putting her hands together in front of her
while a smile graced her face. “I’m sorry for the delay. I had to finish up
something in the kitchen.”
Both Ayra and Ibtihaj easily smiled back and told her it was alright. When
she asked what she could get them, Ayra’s smile shrunk but stayed sincere
with a hint of sadness. “We were hoping you could give us your best meal
and that you’ll be kind enough to indulge us in stories you have about a
family that owns properties around here.”
Thandiwe stared at her for a long moment before her smile returned and
she nodded. “Very well. I’ll get started on your meal and close up so we can
talk. Now, does a cold glass of freshly made mixed fruit juice sound good?”
Ayra nearly melted. She and Ibtihaj nodded at the same time and replied
like twins. “Yes please.”
Thandiwe laughed. “Alright then. Just give me a minute.”
They told her to take her time. It took her an exact minute and half to have
their drinks brought to their table, as though she’d prepared for their arrival
beforehand. The couple who were the only customers in the restaurant
finished up and footed their bill. Unable to just sit and watch, Ayra and
Ibtihaj helped Thandiwe clear up the table the couple had occupied and
once she finished locking up the restaurant, she forced them out of her
kitchen although they tried to insist on helping her with the used dishes.
When they returned to their table, Ibtihaj opened a discussion. “After
Maghrib, I said lemme search how the case between Ibrahim and the squad
is going and omo! I always knew The Hexad was a big company but if you
see how many zeros are in the estimated sales amount of Ibrahim’s shares.
This is going to cripple them Bella small sha, especially with the news
articles speculating that some investors may leave with Ibrahim. People love
him sha.”
Ayra smiled sadly, nodding. “They do. Ibrahim’s a very loveable person. I
would know.”
Ibtihaj’s chest squeezed. “Ayra…”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
475

“I’m actually glad he’s crippling them. I’m glad he’s splitting away from
them too. He’s going to do well on his own, no matter what area he decides
to venture into and I haven’t reached that point yet but I know when I can
move on from all of this, I’ll cheer him on and wish him well. He’s been a