Part 1

Him and I
♣
“Come on, come on. Don’t leave me like this.
I thought I had you figured out.
Something’s gone terribly wrong. You’re all I wanted.
Come on, come on. Don’t leave me like this.
I thought I had you figured out.
Can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. I can’t go back.
I’m haunted.”
- Taylor Swift, Haunted.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
9

0.5
Aomi, Atlantica
On Friday July 13, 2013, thirteen year old Ayra Leilani Abdulaziz officially
stopped being a junior secondary school student. She became an official
member of the senior secondary school class one at Harmony High and like
she’d always wanted, she was to be in the arts division.
On that same Friday July 13, Ayra Leilani Abdulaziz fell in love. She didn’t
plan to fall in love that day but fate doesn’t really wait for us to plan, does
it?
When the school bus dropped her off at the front gate of the compound
her family owned, Ayra happily waved bye at her classmates and opened the
passenger gate to let herself in. There were a lot of cars, telling her that
there were official visitors for her father.
Already used to such scenarios, she went in through the kitchen door at the
back and as quietly as she could, she went upstairs. Her mother was out and
on such occasions, her father didn’t know she (Ayra) was back until the
visitors left.
Knowing she had some time on her hands, Ayra changed out of her school
uniform, dumped it in the laundry basket, and then paced the length of her
room until she decided to go down to the second living room to watch a
movie until her father finished. The guests never came towards the other
living room so she did not have to bother about anything.
Her footsteps were light as she descended the stairs and she heard her
father’s clear laugh as she walked past the closed doors of the main living
room. There were other laughs but she didn’t recognise them and she
wasn’t sure she wanted to do so. Only her father’s laughter mattered. It was
the only one that made her feel warm inside.
She walked past the closed kitchen and past the home office where her
father could be found if he wasn’t in any of the living rooms or in the room
he shared with her mother. The second living room sat on the other side of
the house and the nearer she got, the excited she became. There was going
to be no school until September and such breaks meant she got to be
spoiled rotten. Nothing could beat that and she was ready to start her break
with a very good show.
Nothing prepared her for the sight she met in the space she’d assumed
would be empty. Momentarily panicking, Ayra rushed behind the nearest
curtain and let a near minute pass before she peeked out of her hiding spot;
as though she was a thief scared of being caught.

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10

There was a male in the cosy space and he sat on one of the sofas. Ayra had
never seen him before. The book he held in his hand had his full attention
and the particular sofa he occupied sat in front of the opened windows.
There was something about the way the light shrouded him like an angelic
halo that did something to Ayra’s little heart. She’d never seen someone
who paid so much attention to a book, to the extent he had no idea he was
being watched by the curious eyes of a new teenager as she’d turned
thirteen at the start of that very month.
She acknowledged then that he was a beautiful man. She had no idea where
the thought had come from but she knew it was the truth. The man seated
in the living room was beautiful and obviously older than she was. Ayra
tried to guess his age, wondering if she would be correct if she said he was
about twenty. He appeared tall even while sitting and there was grace in his
movements as he flipped the page over.
He had light brown skin; almost the shade of smooth honey. His hair was
full of curls that were neatly cut low. From where she stood, Ayra couldn’t
make out the colour of his eyes but she was certain they’d be beautiful too.
He had full dark brows, a straight nose that fit his face, lovely shaped lips,
and a well-kept stubble beard that framed his jaw.
He wore a cream coloured turtleneck which he’d paired with dark blue
trousers. His feet were covered with black socks and he had one leg
elegantly crossed over the other. Ayra wondered if she’d be able to pick out
what shoe belonged to him on the shoe rack if she could manage to sneak
out to the foyer.
He flipped the page again and her attention moved to his hands. She knew
if she placed her hands against his, his would definitely be bigger. He had
nice hands and she nearly giggled at how absurd it was that she found
hands beautiful. She’d never really had such thoughts before.
The plan to watch a show long forgotten, Ayra stood behind that curtain
and repeatedly took him all in until she could close her eyes and describe
him in detail. To her, he was one of the most beautiful people she’d ever
seen. All that was missing was for her to know his name and God, she was
curious. She tried guessing but no name she thought of seemed to fit and it
frustrated her a little.
Eventually, he finished his book and she watched as he shut it. He put it
aside and picked up a watch that had been beside him all along. He put it
on, turning his head to look at the family portrait on the wall. For the first
time, Ayra was glad her smile in that particular portrait was beautiful with

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
11

both her dimples popping out on her cheeks. For some reason she couldn’t
explain, she wanted him to think she was a beautiful person too.
Her heart leapt to her throat at the sound of approaching footsteps and
laughter. She let the curtain completely cover her, listening as the footsteps
got even closer. Her father began to speak and she had no doubt he and the
men with him had come into that particular room.
The conversations that followed were hearty and when Ayra’s curiosity got
better of her, she peeped through the small crack she created between the
curtains. The male she’d been admiring was on his feet now and the smile
on his face as he spoke with her father sent butterflies to her stomach. She
was too young to understand what it meant but that didn’t mean she didn’t
love how it felt.
Through the conversations shared, she learned his name was Ibrahim and
she loved it for him. She learned his father’s name too and that he (his
father) was the Atlantican ambassador to South Africa, Salim Fahad. Her
name came up briefly in the conversation and when a joke was made about
her marrying Ibrahim someday, every single male in the room laughed. Ayra
didn’t laugh. In that moment, all she could imagine was getting married and
having a man like Ibrahim love her in ways similar to how her parents loved
each other.
She stayed there until they left and then she ran up to her room to make an
entry in her journal, describing Ibrahim in detail. It was the first time she
was overly excited to hear about her father’s meeting and he told her about
Ibrahim. Ayra conveniently paid no attention to the fact that Ibrahim was a
decade older than she was and chose to pay attention to everything else, like
how he was on his way to becoming one of Atlantica’s tech prodigies
alongside his friends from his university days.
After Jumm’ah, Ayra stood and offered a two raka’ah nawafil prayer. When
she finished, she put her hands together and did what she was taught to do
each time she wanted something. She prayed to Allah with all of her heart,
telling him that when she was older, she wanted nothing more than to be
Ibrahim Fahad’s wife.
♣
On Saturday July 4, 2020, three things happened to Ayra Leilani Abdulaziz.
One, she turned twenty and while her best friend, Ibtihaj Oluwatosin
Adeola, cried about letting go of their teenage years, Ayra was more than
happy to be a “proper adult”.

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Two, both of them (Ayra and Ibtihaj) officially finished their bachelor’s
degree, submitting their final dissertation copies at exactly mid-day
alongside many other final year students who were more than happy to be
done with everything university had to offer although many of them were
returning for their master’s in a few months.
Third, and the most important, a marriage proposal arrived at the Abdulaziz
home for none other than Ayra from the one man she’d been hopelessly in
love with all along; a man so many people who were close to her told her to
get over because they (Ayra and Ibrahim) were worlds apart with how big
he’d become.
When the news got to Ayra, she burst into tears and it was very easy to rush
home, to the very living room where it had all began. With tears in her eyes
and a heart that threatened to burst in joy, Ayra did the one thing she’d
dreamed of so many times.
She said yes to the proposal his family brought on his behalf. After all, she
never stopped praying since she was thirteen to be Ibrahim Fahad’s wife.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
13

01
Aomi, Atlantica.
August, 2020.
In the middle of the hundreds who wore black robes, twenty year old Ayra
Leilani Abdulaziz stood with a smile on her face while excitement rolled off
her in huge waves; excitement that made it hard for her to stand still in her
white heels.
“U of A’s Class of 2020, are we ready?!”
The response was a thunderous, unified “yes”. The sports arena of the
University of Atlantica was full and each person was on their feet,
thousands of cameras held up to capture the moment they’d all been
waiting for, some more than others.
“Alright!” The event’s officiator, the ever friendly Dean of Students,
stepped back with a smile on her face. “Let’s begin!”
Like the hundreds around her, Ayra reached up to lightly hold the cap on
her head. On her left side, her best friend – Ibtihaj Oluwatosin Adeola –
did the same. Both their smiles were wide and while Ayra had deep dimples
on each cheek, Ibtihaj didn’t.
“Ladies and gentlemen, 10! 9! 8!”
Most people in the arena – graduating students and family members alike
alongside other students enrolled in the university – counted down with the
Dean. Smiles got wider, excitement levels rose, some people began clapping
with each digit that was called.
“7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2!”
It was as though the area held its breath as the countdown reached its end.
“1! Congratulations!”
The black graduation caps hit the air at the same time and every invited
guest in the arena applauded heartily while the sea of balloons held above
the ground were released and sparklers went off. Those who’d just officially
become graduates hugged each other and squeezed into the reels and shots
that captured the beautiful moment.
In the middle of it all, Ayra and Ibtihaj smiled widely at the phone held up
by one of those who had become their “former course mate”. Once the
selfie was captured, Ayra and Ibtihaj bent to pick up their fallen caps. When
they straightened, they smiled at each other and proceeded to hug
themselves with excited screams.

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14

“We did it!” Ibtihaj said, pulling back. “Their papa!”
Unable to help herself, Ayra laughed. “God, Ibty, you’re never going to
change.”
“Fi mi silę, abeg.” She linked her arm with Ayra’s. “The day I change is the
day I bend.”
Among the friend groups the university walls had seen over the years, Ayra
and Ibtihaj’s was one of the very best. They were different in more ways
than one but they complimented each other well and both ladies were
beautiful inside and out.
With a mischievous smile, Ibtihaj leaned in and wiggled her brows. “Is our
fiancé here?”
Ayra acted as though her heart didn’t do a little jump. Her smile turned
bashful while little colour stained both cheeks that had her dimples on full
display. “Weren’t you the same person who told me to let go of my feelings
back then because men like Ibrahim Fahad didn’t usually end up with
women like us?”
Ibtihaj nodded without any hesitation. “I did, because I wanted you to face
reality. I didn’t want you to get hurt because I didn’t think both of you were
actually going to get together.” Her smile widened. “Thankfully,
everything’s paying off now. Is he here though?”
Ayra sighed. “I really don’t know. We both saw the news that he was in
Nohea earlier this morning for the opening of the branch there so I doubt
he’d be back by now.” She then smiled and it was so beautiful. “Besides, I
will certainly see him later. We do have the engagement party after all and
no groom-to-be in his right mind is going to miss his engagement party,
especially when his fiancé planned it from scratch.”
Ibtihaj eyed her. “This fiancé thing is getting into your head too much o.”
Ayra laughed again. “I can’t help it, Ibty. I’ve loved this man for as long as I
can remember so allow me revel in the fact that my dreams are coming true.
I really can’t wait for the world to know we’re engaged.”
“Wait a little more, my dear. We’re almost there.”
“We are.” And Ayra was so excited. “Let’s go find our families”
“Let’s go. I’m hungry abeg. I hope Mummy came with pounded yam and
egusi. It’s even better if it is amala and ewedu.”
“Ibty!”

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“Free me o! I fit deck you!” They began to make their way through the
crowd. “Has he finally called you or sent a message?”
Ayra shook her head. “Nope. You and I know he’s a busy man, Ibty. He’ll
make up for the lack of contact since I accepted his proposal, I’m sure of
it.”
Ibtihaj, like the lovely best friend she was, let it go although there were
things she wanted to say. The Lagos girl in her found it weird that a fiancé
hadn’t spoken to his future wife since their engagement but then again,
Ibrahim Fahad and his squad had founded a company from scratch and
they were ranking highly on world tech charts which meant they were
always busy.
Ibtihaj sighed as quietly as she could and pushed away her sceptic side.
Besides, Ayra knew Ibrahim better. She’d been in love with him for seven
years after all; something that never failed to amaze Ibtihaj each time they
spoke about it.
It was one thing that was different about them. Ayra was the hopeless
romantic and while Ibtihaj loved romance, she believed there were signs
that pointed towards the success or failure of a relationship no matter how
new it was or how long it’d been going on for. She was the realist. Ayra
wasn’t.
Keeping their hands in each other’s, they squeezed their way through the
jubilating crowd. They were stopped more than once for photos and videos
and there were so many congratulations. Ayra wondered just how many
more congratulations she would have personally received if her mates knew
she was engaged and knew just who her fiancé was.
“Ayra! Ibty! Over here!”
It was way too easy for the best friends to sight their family members and
rush over. Muhsin Abdulaziz easily caught his daughter as she threw herself
at him and with a deep laugh, he twirled her around the way he’d always
done since she was born.
“Oh my Ayra.” He put her down on her feet and pulled back to look at her
with so much love and adoration. “I’m so proud of you.”
Ayra mimicked a hair flip. “You have to be. It’s not easy to get a distinction,
you know.”
He laughed and so did she. She then turned to her mother and her
expression softened. Salama Abdulfatah-Abdulaziz had tears in her eyes but
she was smiling. Like always, she looked elegantly beautiful in a wine

LATIFAH EFUA A.
16

coloured abaya and its accompanying veil. She opened her arms and it was
natural for Ayra to step into her mother’s embrace. It never stopped feeling
safe; never stopped feeling like home.
“Mabruk, Leilani.” Salama kissed her daughter’s veiled head. “I am so, so
proud of you.”
Ayra’s heart could burst. “Thank you, Ummi.”
“You’re always welcome.”
A throat was cleared. “Shey we will not hug you ni? Salama, allow me hug
my other daughter jor.”
Laughing, mother and daughter pulled apart. Ayra turned to Ibtihaj’s
mother. Falilat Akinoluwa-Adeola looked regal in her iro and buba sewn
with blue lace she’d definitely taken time to pick out. Her gele, as it usually
was when she was dressed in style, was tied to perfection and Ayra caught
the familiar whiff of Falilat’s signature perfume when she stepped into the
older woman’s embrace.
“Congratulations, omo mi (my baby).” Falilat said, hugging Ayra tightly while
Salama and Muhsin congratulated Ibtihaj. “The sky is your starting point.
You and Ibtihaj will achieve greater heights and success, and every plan of
evil in your lives shall backfire.”
Ayra, who loved it when Falilat prayed, smiled against the woman’s chest.
“Ameen, Ameen.”
“You two will know happiness and joy and we will gather like this to
celebrate more wins and breakthroughs for the both of you. Your lives shall
be happy and filled with joy.”
“Ameen.”
Falilat pulled back, smiling from ear to ear. “Ah, congratulations. All the
bachelor wahala has finally ended. We will now hear word from the two of
you.”
Ayra laughed. “True.” She turned to Ibtihaj’s father, Al-Amin, and smiled
when he quietly offered his congratulations. “Thank you so much.”
Falilat spoke before her husband could offer a reply. “Ah, there is no need
to thank us. We are family now.” She looked around, searching for a
particular male. “Where is that photographer sef? They should not annoy me
o.”
She turned back to Ayra. “Let us take pictures and head out to the gardens.
Khadija and Halima are there, setting up a space for us. We came with

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enough food and drinks. I even made pounded yam and special egusi for you
and Ibty. It’s not every day two daughters graduate with distinctions.”
Ayra got excited. “God, Aunt Falilat, you’re the best!”
Falilat blushed comically. “It’s nothing too big…Wó, there is that
photographer now?!”
The photographer was finally sighted and he rushed over while Falilat did
her best to not curse him in her native language, Yoruba. Ever since they’d
moved from Lagos to Aomi five years back, she’d been making conscious
efforts to not be a “werey” (her exact words). On some days it was hard with
how people like the photographer in front of them frustrated her but she
pulled through.
They all took their places and each person smiled widely for the photos that
were taken. Muhsin and Al-Amin decided to go with the photographer to
get the printed pictures while Falilat and Salama led their daughters outside
to the gardens by the university’s main parking lot; an expanse of greenery
that now had set up tents where celebrating families sat to share goodies
with every interested person.
Ibtihaj’s sisters, Halima and Khadijah, occupied a spot underneath one of
the numerous tents. They’d spread out the mats both families came with
and had arranged the coolers of drinks and the warmers of foods, take-away
packs and spoons, disposable cups, plates, and serviettes. There were two
double-tiered cakes too; one for Ayra and the other for Ibtihaj. Souvenirs –
hardcover notepads, pens, and customised mugs – sat in two cartons.
Like their parents, Khadijah and Halima had a lot of congratulations to give
Ayra and Ibtihaj and the celebrants were more than happy to ditch their
graduation caps and gowns, revealing the beauties they’d worn underneath.
While four of them took pictures, Salama and Falilat began attending to
students who came over to offer their congratulations. Like each student
hoped, they didn’t leave the tent empty handed and their smiles stretched
from ear to ear.
“Oya o!” Falilat clapped her hands together. “Ayra and Ibty, come and snap
pishur so that the fashion designer can post two of you on her Instagram.
Two of you are so fine!”
Salama nodded, her smile ever so warm. “They are. The dresses get prettier
each time you look.”
Falilat adjusted her iro. “My dear, after all the money we spent, they have to
look fine…Halima, oya! Snap them.” She bent to pick her phone. “Let me
even call Al-Amin sef. Let him come back with the photographer. Let them

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18

take pictures of Ayra and Ibty so that we can make those little frames and –
” She grinned widely when two students walked over. Discarding her
phone, she went into host mode and happily pulled them into the tent.
“Welcome, my dears!”
Ayra and Ibtihaj, on the other hand, shook their heads fondly at their
mothers and proceeded to take the said pictures. They easily found their
way to one of the beautiful hedges which had flowers in full bloom. Like
they’d done since the first time they met in freshman year, Ayra and Ibtihaj
put their arms around each other’s waists and smiled widely at the camera
Halima held up.
“This is déjà vu, I swear.” Ibtihaj said. “We’re at the exact spot we first
met.”
Ayra nodded, a nice smile on her face. “We never looked back after striking
this same pose back then.”
“As if you could say no to being friends with someone like me. I’m a spec,
my dear.”
Ayra snorted. “Get out.”
Unable to help it, they both burst out laughing. Their dresses – like their
mothers said – were beautiful, sewn to perfection by Nigerian based fashion
designer, Binta Badmus, who ran the Bintabadmuslady Fashion Line. Ayra
and Ibtihaj had stumbled upon the fashion line’s IG page by accident and
all it took was one glance at the first post on the page for them to know the
gowns they wanted. While both dresses cost a lot, the end results were
perfect; making them worth every single cent.
Ibtihaj was in an Ankara two-piece which combined pink, pale blue and
touches of cream; a blouse – with a surplice neckline and long sleeves with
feathers on the flare cuffs – which she tucked into the maxi skirt that
flowed to her feet, revealing the pointy toes of the black heels she wore.
The complimentary raw silk scarf was elegantly tied around her head by
Falilat herself. Like every other outfit Ibtihaj owned, she wore the dress
well.
Ayra, on the other hand, was in an A-line dress that combined cream cord
lace and Ankara with bold floral prints in yellow, blue (in different shades)
and specs of gold. The cord lace was used in sewing the dress’s turtleneck,
shoulder cover, sleeves, and the covering from her knees while the Ankara
covered every each inch of skin from above her cleavage to right above
both knees. Like her best friend, she also had an elegant headpiece which

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was tied with cream coloured raw silk and on her feet were white sling-back
heels.
Both of them had simple jewellery and flawless make-up that went well with
both outfits. They laughed between shots and teased each other the way
they’d always done since freshman year. Each person who walked past had
to take a moment to admire the scene and no one could honestly blame
them. It was a beautiful scene with two lovely ladies.
Ayra, at twenty, stood at five feet and four inches with almond brown skin
that was majorly spotless thanks to all her mother’s skin routines, hazel doe-
like eyes that were an open book to her emotions, a lovely button nose, lips
that formed a beautiful heart each time she wasn’t smiling, and cheeks
blessed with dimples; deep ones that popped out even with her tiniest
smiles. Then underneath each veil and cap she wore to school or out of the
house were voluminous curls that a lot of saloonists didn’t like because of
how full it was and how long it took to do even something as simple as
cornrows. She was on the thinner side but with proportions that fit her so
well.
Ayra didn’t have the beauty that demanded attention once she entered a
room. She had the soft beauty; the one that made you sit comfortably so
you could take your time to admire while feeling safe and all mushy inside.
Ibtihaj, on the other hand, was the taller one, standing at five feet and seven
inches at age twenty. Her skin was a cool espresso tone, three shades darker
than Ayra’s. She had russet brown eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and plump
lips that had a natural darker lining. Unlike Ayra, she had more body, with
curves in all the right places; each curve gotten from Falilat herself.
Ibtihaj was a dark beauty and God, she knew it. Having a mother like Falilat
meant that Ibtihaj’s closet had only the best outfits and everyone knew she
wore each outfit well; as though the entire world was the runway and she
was the main star. The only thing she claimed to lack, especially when
compared to Ayra, was hair. Her hair was a nest of tight coils and she never
left it loosened. It took too much work in that state.
Ibtihaj glared at her sister. “Halima, is it not okay? O re mi o (I am tired o).”
Halima laughed, lowering the camera. “Ma binu (Sorry). Oya, let’s go and eat.
You two have done a lot today.”
By the time they reached the tents, both fathers were back and another
round of congratulations ensued until Falilat and Salama forced plates of
food into their hands. It made them all laugh. More students came over to
say hi and both Ayra and Ibtihaj had to take pauses between bites to smile

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20

for pictures and thank them for coming. When the plates had been cleared
and put away, Muhsin faced his daughter. “Salim and Fareeda called
earlier.”
The mention of her future father and mother in-law had Ayra’s heart
racing. Smiling, she moved closer to him. “What did they say?”
“They wanted to congratulate you but I was too far away so they said they’d
congratulate you properly tonight. You and Ibtihaj.” He smiled at Ibtihaj
who looked his way, clearly surprised. He refocused on Ayra who was
smiling a little wider. “They sent flowers to the estate and they told me to
tell you they’re apologising on Ibrahim’s behalf. He wanted to make it but
there was a delay at Nohea so he’s just returning to Aomi. He would have
called but Salim said Ibrahim’s wanted nothing more than for his first
conversation with you to be face-to-face and not through a device.”
It should have been illegal for Ayra to have so many flutters in her belly.
“I’ll see him tonight In Shaa Allah. It’s not so far anymore.”
Muhsin nodded, grateful – like every day since the proposal came – that she
didn’t end up hurt in the end. “In Shaa Allah.” He then decided to be
teasing. “We should just get ready to not hear the end of it.”
Ibtihaj, who was glad Ibrahim had a valid reason for not talking with Ayra
in the month they’d be engaged, snorted. “Let me better go and buy
earpiece.”
Ayra’s cheeks burned and she tried to hide her bashful smile as every other
person laughed. “I hate all of you.”
Salama unrolled her sleeves. “We love you too.”
Falilat re-tied her loosening gele. “He better come with gifts o. It’s not easy
to be engaged to a man like Ibrahim Fahad.” She let her hands drop. “In
fact, we must get you a husband soon, Ibty. Come and be leaving my
house.”
Al-Amin pulled his daughter closer, chuckling at her expression. “Fali, leave
my Ibty alone.”
Every other person was laughing. Ibtihaj glared at her mother. “It’s not
your fault sha. It’s not your fault at all.”
They all laughed again. When more students came over, they switched into
host mode and attended to each person. As Ayra helped herself with a slice
of cake, she tried to imagine how her first conversation with Ibrahim would
go. God knew she couldn’t wait.

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02
Plum Boulevard was the biggest residential district in Aomi and it housed a
lot of beautiful houses and estates. Haven Estate was one of such beauties
and amongst its residents were the Adeolas and Abdulazizs; the Adeolas
owning House 47 while the Abdulazizs owned House 72, one of the last
units in the gated community.
Each house in the estate was a fully detached duplex with four rooms, five
baths, two living rooms, and a home study (library, or even a recreational
space if the family so wanted) in individual compounds with fanciful
wheeled gates. Every compound had a lovely, wide yard and while most
people opted for gazebos, swings and pools, the Abdulazizs were one of
those who left the space well-kept and green.
On a usual day, the backyard was a green plain with two short trees, tall
yard lights and a stoned pathway in the middle that began from the
backdoor of the kitchen and ended at the back fence. However this was not
a normal day and the yard had been transformed to fit the status of an
engagement party’s venue; a party planned by Ayra herself once the Fahads
had it suggested.
Round tables that comfortably took six gold panelled Chiavari chairs now
sat on both sides of the yard’s stoned pathway. A long table sat in a corner,
strictly for the buffet dishes to be delivered by the catering company. Each
table – meant for guests – was covered with off-white linen that had no
wrinkle in sight. In the centre of every table were two floral arrangements
that sat on both sides of tall, golden candle holders which held unlit
candles. Earth brown placemats sat in front of each chair and on every
placemat were symmetrically arranged dinnerware and creatively folded
napkins.
There was a little dais stage with a floral arch. According to what Ayra had
explained to the planning team that worked for her mother, the stage was
for speeches and photos so the arch had to look pretty. The team knew
better than to not come through with what she’d asked for. She was their
boss’s daughter after all and for as long as they’d known her; Ayra was the
sweetest soul who deserved everything good.
Overseeing the execution of the event plans was a lady named Iris who’d
trained the longest under Salama. She walked around with a clipboard in
hand, ensuring everything was in perfect place. Evidently satisfied, she
lowered the clipboard and smiled once she’d let out a relieved breath. The
event would go well, she was sure of it.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
22

Fishing out her phone from the deep pocket of her dress, she put a call
across to the head of the catering team who assured her they were already
in the estate; they were just a few houses away. Glad, Iris hung up and she
turned around when the backdoor of the house went open.
Salama stepped out, removing her veil to reveal the black cup she wore
underneath. She looked around, her steps slowing until she stopped in a
spot. “Whoa…”
Iris had never been prouder of her work. She walked over. “Good?”
Salama nodded, her smile small and warm. “Perfect.” She faced Iris. “You
keep getting better and better.”
“I learned from the best after all.”
Salama laughed, nodding. “You did, and I’m very proud of you.” She
looked around again, her gaze lingering on the floral arch. “That has to be
the highlight.”
Iris had to agree. “It is. We made sure to get Leilanis, for good
representation.”
Salama walked towards the arch, easily spotting her favourite flower. “They
never stop being beautiful.”
“Just like the lady you named after them.”
Salama laughed again. “You’re flattering me and my daughter a lot this
evening, Iris.”
Iris grinned. “I am. I’m just really happy. Ayra’s grown up really well and I
know you’re proud of her. I know you’re happy too. She is engaged to the
best family after all. The Fahads have a very good reputation and there are a
million people who can vouch for them.”
Salama nodded. “You’re right. They are a good family and we’ve known
them for a long time which makes me content because I know Ayra’s going
to be perfectly taken care of. I think I’m more relieved than happy. I have
never seen someone love a man so much the way Ayra loves Ibrahim. A lot
of times, I prayed for her to not end up being hurt because a union between
them seemed so unlikely.”
She sighed and then she smiled, a dimple appearing on her left cheek. “It
worked out though so I’m relieved. And before you ask, yes I am happy. I’ll
always be happy that she’s happy. Muhsin is happy too. Ayra deserves the
world and I’m so glad things are falling into place for her.”
Iris was ready to melt. “You’re always going to be the best mother.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
23

Salama rolled her eyes while her cheeks darkened. “Iris, I’ll soon throw you
out of my house.” She walked away from the arch and got into business
mode. “The catering team?”
Iris followed her. “A few houses away.”
“The sound system?”
“Camouflaged as requested. Microphones have been checked and the
playlist Ayra curated is ready to be played once the sun sets.”
“And the candles?”
“Ready to be lit. Everything’s in perfect place. The guest bathroom, as
requested, has been stocked up and cleaned. The whole house is spotless
too.”
Salama nodded. “Perfect. Now, all that’s remaining is for the star of the
show to –”
Ayra walked into the yard. “Here I am!” She stopped in her tracks and her
eyes widened as she looked around. She gasped a moment later. “Oh my
God…”
If perfection had a visualisation to Ayra, it was the sight in front of her. It
was no secret Salama could always be counted on to bring ideas to life but
this had to be one of Salama’s best and Ayra couldn’t believe the sight in
front of her was the same idea she’d drafted out while her mother brushed
her hair that fateful evening when the talk of the party had come up.
She took small steps towards Salama and Iris, her mouth refusing to shut as
she took in every single thing over and over again. Salama smiled fondly, a
hand on her waist. “Good?”
Ayra nodded, still in a daze. “Perfect.” Her entire being lit up when she
took in the flower arch. “You got Leilanis!”
Iris chuckled. “We had to represent.”
Ayra turned to her. “Thank you so much, Iris.” She turned to Salama.
“Thank you too, Ummi.”
They told her she was welcome and when Ayra asked if they thought
Ibrahim would like the set-up, Salama rolled her eyes and took her
daughter’s hand. “Ayra, you’re the person behind this and if you love it,
then everyone else is going to love it. If Ibrahim doesn’t love it, I’ll kill
him.”
Ayra laughed. “Ummi, you and I know you’ll do no such thing.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
24

“You’ll be surprised. We should head in, pray and get a little rest before
Maghrib…Oh, there’s Josh.”
The head of the catering team smiled at them and waved before he
proceeded to lead his team in, covered buffet trays carried with extra care.
Iris went over to the buffet table while Salama turned back to her daughter.
“Let’s go inside, Leilani. Let’s leave them to finish up.” She led them
forward, towards the door she’d come out through. “I’m just glad you’re
not a fireball of energy yet.”
“Oh, that’s going to happen soon.”
“I have no doubt about it…I’m proud of you, Ayra. I’m happy for you
too.”
“Even though I’ve not shut up about being Ibrahim’s wife since I accepted
the proposal?”
Salama chuckled, nodding. “Even then. You’re getting your happy ending
and while it can get tiring listening to you go on and on about how perfect
Ibrahim is, I know it’s you being happy. And that’s how I always want you
to be. I always want you to be happy.”
They stopped in front of the stairs and faced each other. Ayra’s expression
was soft. “You make me love you more and more every single day, Ummi.”
Muhsin stepped out of the living room, joining them. “That makes two of
us.”
Salama laughed. “You two should leave me alone. Come on, let’s head up.
There’s so much to do,”
Excitedly, Ayra completed the sentence. “And very little time.”
♣
As soon as Maghrib finished, every light in the yard was turned on and
every candle was lit. If the space looked beautiful when the sun was out, it
was ethereal now that the sun had set. Calm songs and orchestral pieces
played through the speakers, each one picked out carefully by Ayra and
curated into one lovely playlist. The buffet table held a variety of dishes,
small chops, and drinks; more than enough to go round every invited guest.
Ibtihaj had a nice smile on her face as she stepped into the compound
through the open gates, taking everything in. She ascended the entrance
stairs and pushed open one of the double entrance doors. The house was a
hive of activities and she smiled at every familiar face, easily finding her way
up.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
25

Wanting to be annoying, she knocked hard on her best friend’s door and
happily let herself in. “I don show o!”
Ayra, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, rolled her eyes. “I’m done
with you, I swear.”
Ibtihaj grinned. “I love you too.” She shut the door and walked over to the
loveseat in the cosy room, dumping her bag on the sofa before sitting.
“Omo, the house is so busy.”
“Tell me about it.” Ayra said, walking towards the open wardrobe. In a
corner, incense burned in its burner. “Guests are going to start arriving
soon.”
“Including our almighty fiancé,”
Ayra was glad her back faced the other woman as her cheeks were hot,
revealing just how much of a mess she was inside as her emotions battled
for the top spot; fear, nervousness, excitement, and eagerness going neck to
neck. “Including our almighty fiancé.”
Ibtihaj, who knew fully well that Ayra was blushing furiously, leaned
forward on the sofa. “Ayra, I swear to God, if this Ibrahim does not meet
the standards you’ve used to describe him ehn, I will kill you with my two
bare hands. Na this house I go bury you.”
Ayra had never turned around so fast. “Ibty, I swear you wouldn’t have a
reason to murder me. Ibrahim is going to exceed every expectation I’ve
created, trust me.” She was clearly swooning. “God, I’m going to see him
up close and I’m going to finally talk to him.” She sighed dreamily. “This is
an honest dream come true.”
“God abeg.”
“Don’t rain on my parade!”
“Yes ma. Oya show me what you finally decided to wear.”
Ayra grinned. “Okay!”
Three minutes later, Ayra’s outfit was laid out on the bed and Ibtihaj stared
at it for a moment before she nodded in approval. “Good, good. I was
looking forward to slapping you sha. Thank God you didn’t pick out
something stupid.”
“Ibty, I swear –”
“Come off it, my friend.”
“What are you even wearing for the party?”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
26

Ibtihaj was more than happy to grab her bag and pull out her outfit, laying
it right beside Ayra’s. Both of them then stood side by side, admiring what
they’d chosen.
Ayra folded her arms. “We do dress well.”
“I agree. When do we get to change?”
“We have to pray Isha first. Ummi said she’ll come over to let me know
when to start getting ready to head down.”
“Oya now.” Ibtihaj removed the hijab she’d worn for the walk from her
house to Ayra’s, and proceeded to make herself comfortable by the
window. “Let me just do aproko small. This is why I like your window.”
“Oh, Ibty…”
“If you like, don’t come and join me.”
Ayra did not need to be told twice. Her room window offered one of the
best views of the front of the house, allowing her see who went out and
who came in. The gates stayed open and it wasn’t long before cars began
arriving with guests from both families; the Abdulazizs and the Fahads.
One could always count on Ibtihaj to be a dramatic spectator.
“Come,” Her face was literally pressed against the glass and her eyes were
comically wide. “No be Jeep be that? Come, Ayra, isn’t that the latest model
of the Jeep Wrangler?”
Ayra nodded, just as amazed. “It is. I wonder who’s in it.”
They got their reply seconds later when the backdoors of the car went open
and Ibrahim’s parents – Salim and Fareeda – stepped out. Ibtihaj pressed
her face even further against the glass, watching as husband and wife
walked around the car to hold each other’s hand, both in black, moving
with grace and poise that so many people would kill to have.
“Omo, omo, omo.” Ibtihaj turned to Ayra. “Come, you were not lying when
you said these people are classy o. I mean, it’s one thing to see how elegant
they can be online but in real life! Omo!”
Ayra smiled smugly. “I told you so.” She turned back to the window, her
heart beating faster as she wondered if Ibrahim was close.
“This Ibrahim should do and come abeg. Make I see something.”
Ayra couldn’t bring herself to voice the fact that she wanted him to come
soon too. The knock on the room door startled them and they both turned
to see Salama peep in. Like always, she was smiling. “You two might want
to pray Isha and get changed. The Fahads are here and Ibrahim’s on his

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
27

way.” When both of them nodded, she smiled a little wider at Ibtihaj.
“Hello, Ibty.”
“Hello, Aunt Salama. We’ll just do aproko small and then we’ll pray.”
Salama laughed and nodded. “Sure, you do that. Don’t take too long.”
“We won’t.” Ayra promised. “We’ll be down soon.”
Salama nodded again and then she was gone. Ayra and Ibtihaj turned to the
window, just as a copper black and heavily tinted Kia Telluride with
covered plate numbers drove into the compound, occupying the spot
beside the Jeep Wrangler. For some reason, Ayra knew who’d arrived
before he even stepped out and her heart became frenetic while her breath
hitched and her palms got a little sweaty.
If they were in a movie, everything that happened next would have been
shown in slow motion. The backdoor of the Telluride went open and
moments later, Ibrahim Fahad was stepping out. Like Ayra had learned
over the years, photos and videos did not do Ibrahim justice. He’d become
more beautiful than he was the last time they’d been in the same space and
it still did things to Ayra’s heart which wasn’t so little anymore.
When he shut the door and Ayra saw just what he was wearing, she knew
she needed every ounce of strength to get through the night in one piece
because he was after her life and every inch of her sanity.
Beside her, Ibtihaj was amazed. “Olorun mi… (My God…)”
If there was one thing the world knew, it was Ibrahim Fahad’s signature
fashion style; turtlenecks, comfortably loose trousers, boots, and jackets and
coats that cost fortunes. Tonight was different. He’d ditched his signature
outfit and decided to go traditional instead.
He wore black; black trousers that complemented the black indo-western
Sherwani with golden embroidery that ran from his left shoulder to the hem
which stopped right above his knees. His curly hair was longer than Ayra
remembered but it framed his face well. His stubble beard was as neat as it
always was, carved to perfection.
Both of them watched as Ibrahim joined his parents who now stood with
Muhsin and Salama. When he raised his head, looking straight at Ayra’s
room window, both Ibtihaj and Ayra jumped back as though they were
thieves who’d been caught. Ayra brought a hand to her chest but it did
nothing to calm her galloping heart. She felt way too many things at once
and she knew it’d take a lot of effort to get every emotion under control by
the time they had to head down.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
28

Ibtihaj was already heading towards the bathroom. “Come o, let’s perform
ablution and pray. Omo, we need to start heading down. Ayra!”
Ayra moved then. She performed ablution on muscle memory and gladly let
Ibtihaj lead the prayer. Once they finished, both women got out of the
dresses they wore and proceeded to put on their laid out outfits. No one
had to tell Ayra to put in extra effort just so she could look prettier. She’d
never wanted to so badly make a good impression.
Both of them wore high neck bodysuits and while Ayra’s was black,
Ibtihaj’s was sand brown. They both paired the bodysuit with wide leg
trousers; Ayra’s being black as well while Ibtihaj’s was coffee brown, going
well with her skin tone. Ibtihaj put on her matching brown, open abaya
while Ayra brushed out her hair and pulled it back into a quick bun. She
then went ahead to wear her own open abaya which was emerald green in
colour.
It was easy for them to move to the dresser with its attached mirror and get
started on make-up, both deciding to stick to the basics and not go
overboard. Jewellery came next; white earrings and a white serpent bracelet
for Ayra, and simple studs, a rose-gold watch and a double ring for Ibtihaj.
They then tied their veils as simple turbans; Ayra’s black and Ibtihaj’s
brown.
Turning from right to left to be sure she looked alright, Ayra nervously
asked “Should I change? It suddenly seems like I’m underdressed.”
“Iffa slap you! You look like a spec, my dear, and if they don’t compliment
you, na me and them.”
That was all Ayra needed to hear. They put on their shoes; simple pumps,
and then managed to take a few photos before Iris – sent by Salama – came
up to whisk them out of the room, down the stairs, and through the
kitchen. Ayra only had a minute to breathe and pull herself together before
she and Ibtihaj left the safety of the house, stepping right into the yard.
And right there on the stoned pathway, waiting for them, was none other
than Ibrahim Fahad in all his glory, standing with his hands behind his back
and a small smile on his face with his every bit of his attention trained solely
on the woman he was going to marry.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
29

03
It was as though the world around them immediately ceased to exist and
while it was a little difficult to breathe, all Ayra could see was Ibrahim. She
didn’t see anything or anyone else.
It’d been one thing to sneakily admire him at age thirteen and it was
another to watch him through the screens over the years. Nothing
compared, however, to having him right in front of her in all his glory.
Nothing came close and the intensity of it stole the air from her lungs.
She’d always known he was tall but having him so close showed just how
tall he was compared to her. He had about seven inches over her but it
seemed like so much more. His skin was still the lovely shade of honey-
brown and his brows were still full. His nose was still as straight and his lips
were still lovely…And then there were his eyes.
Onyx coloured eyes held her hazel ones captive, with depths that could
easily drown her. Unlike her eyes which were an open book to her
emotions, Ibrahim’s eyes were closed off; shrouded with an intense mystery
she would kill to unravel right there and right then. His lips moved as his
smile widened by the littlest inch and then he spoke, his voice way deeper
than she remembered. “Hello, Ayra.”
Ayra was ready to melt into the ground. It was a miracle her toes didn’t curl
and it was another miracle that she didn’t stutter when she managed to say
“Hi.”
Always the one to cause trouble, Ibtihaj loudly cleared her throat. “When
you’re done sharing love ehn, some of us are still here.”
That was all it took to bring Ayra back to the present. Ibrahim turned to
Ibtihaj, giving her his full attention. “You must be Ibtihaj.”
“Yes, and you must be Ibrahim Fahad.”
Ayra wanted to push her best friend into the nearest bush. Ibrahim,
unfazed, nodded. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet the best friend of Ayra’s.”
“And it’s a pleasure to finally meet the man my best friend is engaged to.
You’ve been very scarce in the last month sha.”
Ayra grabbed her best friend’s hand, horrified. “Ibty!”
Ibrahim’s calm expression gave way for mild embarrassment and a hint of
amusement. “I actually have good reason but I apologise. I’ll be making it
up to Ayra, and you too, in the coming weeks. Let’s just get through this
event first.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
30

Ibtihaj regarded him for a moment before she nodded once and turned to
her best friend who was murdering her with a glare. She smiled sweetly.
“Oya, you two should have fun.” She pulled her hand out of Ayra’s. “I will
be right behind you.”
“Ibty,” Ayra gritted out. “I swear to God…”
“Gbe (move), my friend. Don’t keep your fiancé waiting.”
Ayra turned to Ibrahim, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” His calm expression was back on and he gestured forward with a
hand. “Shall we?”
Ayra nodded, back to being an honest internal mess. “We shall.”
He stayed right beside her, keeping very little space between them and Ayra
felt herself go dizzy from the whiffs she caught of his perfume; an exotic
concoction of rosewood, cardamom, sandalwood and what she assumed
was oud. It was heavenly and she wondered if he’d find it weird if she asked
what brand he used. She had a feeling it probably cost a lot. He was known
for his luxurious tastes after all.
As they approached their parents who stood with some other guests,
Ibrahim quietly said “You look beautiful, Ayra. This shade of green is
definitely your colour.”
Ayra didn’t think her cheeks got get any hotter but they did and all she
could do was manage an extremely bashful smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
Ibtihaj, being her usual self, cleared her throat from behind them and then
went on to say “wahala o” under her breath, knowing fully well Ayra and
Ibrahim heard it. For the second time that night, Ayra was ready to throw
her friend into a bush.
Meeting his parents – Salim and Fareeda – was nothing short of beautiful
and Ayra let herself get immersed in the beauty of it all. The Fahads heartily
greeted Ibtihaj too, leaving the latter surprisingly flustered. Their parents –
hers, his, and Ibtihaj’s – standing together and laughing between statements
was the perfect picture and Ayra looked forward to seeing more of it in the
future.
Salim took it upon himself to lead Ayra through the guests present, making
introductions to those she didn’t know and reintroducing her to those she
knew one way or the other. Ibrahim stayed right beside her and she loved it
so, so much. He didn’t talk much but it wasn’t surprising as she’d learned

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
31

over the years that he was a social introvert and the only time he was a ball
of energy was with his immediate family or with his circle of friends with
whom he’d achieved great things with.
Like always, Ayra told herself that it was just another way in which they fit.
He was the quiet one while she was the butterfly ready to make the most of
social occasions. As people always say, opposites attract beautifully well.
There were so many congratulations and so many well wishes. One thing
Ayra loved was how Ibtihaj wasn’t left out as everyone congratulated her
too. The engagement party being scheduled for that evening meant Falilat
and Al-Amin couldn’t throw the party they wanted for their daughter and
it’d made Ayra feel guilty until Ibtihaj successfully assured them all that she
was going to “make the most of my best friend’s engagement”. Thankfully,
it was working out well.
The event had no clear programme so everyone just had fun, helping
themselves with food and drinks. Too nervous to eat much, especially with
Ibrahim being so close, Ayra stuck to small chops and a long glass of the
virgin fruit punch provided. When Ibrahim stepped aside to talk with some
of his father’s associates, Ibtihaj sneakily occupied the spot he’d vacated.
She linked her arm with Ayra’s. “How do you feel, my dear?”
Ayra pulled her friend to a corner and then she let herself silently squeal.
“Oh my God, Ibty!” She drew in a breath and then let it out. “God,
Ibrahim is beautiful.”
Ibtihaj did not hide her amusement as she dryly said “Tell me more.”
Ayra slapped the other’s arm. “I’m serious, you goat!” She rolled her eyes
when Ibtihaj laughed. “God, Ibty. Being next to him in real life beats every
dream I’ve had by a very far margin.”
“This love thing seems sweet o.”
“Get out!”
Ibtihaj laughed again. “You two look good together sha. Even though I’ll
still do hard-to-get so he can win me over, I won’t deny the fact that you
two look good side by side.”
Warmth spread in Ayra’s chest. “Yeah?”
Ibtihaj nodded. “Yeah.” She then made a face. “But why is he so quiet?
Person dey do like ghost.”
“He’s introverted, Ibty! I’ve told you this before.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
32

“I did not think it was going to be this bad na. I can count how many words
he’s said tonight. Are you sure you can cope with this man? You wey like
talk like there’s no tomorrow.”
“Ibty, he’s a good listener and he’s definitely going to talk more with me.”
Ayra smiled proudly. “I’m about to be his special person.”
Ibtihaj hissed. “Me too, I go love.” She hissed again when Ayra laughed and
then she looked around. “I don’t think you noticed but his friends aren’t
here.”
Ayra looked around too, realising Ibtihaj was right. “It didn’t even cross my
mind.”
“Omo, I looked o. I was curious to see how Tobi Enioluwa looks in real life.
Those his IG posts are fine.”
Clearly surprised, Ayra turned back to Ibtihaj who shrugged. “Wetin? Of
course I had to properly know the circle you’re about to enter.” Her eyes
narrowed when Ayra began to smile. “Eh en, no just start. I was just
checking and he’s the only one that caught my attention. They’re all fine sha
but him!”
“A crush, Ibty?”
“Sho wa alright ni? Are you mad? You and who is crushing? Instead of you
to be wondering why his friends are not here, you’re searching for what is
not there. Iffa slap –”
“Ayra?”
They both turned to see Ibrahim standing some feet away. While Ayra’s
internal butterflies resumed their flutters, Ibtihaj folded her arms and fully
faced him. “You.”
Ibrahim, once again, had his small smile on. “Me…I was hoping to steal
Ayra for a bit.”
“To where again?”
“I was hoping to talk to her in private; preferably in the living room, away
from the prying eyes of everyone. We do have an overdue discussion after
all.”
That had Ayra’s entire attention but Ibtihaj wasn’t done with Ibrahim.
Acting nonchalant, she said “Your friends aren’t here.”
“Ah, yes.” Ibrahim blew out a small breath. “They had to miss it because
they’re all in different places right now. Bella’s in Italy for a cousin’s
wedding while Nathaniel and Anneth are on a couple’s trip in Barbados

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
33

which they couldn’t cut short because of how much time and money went
into it. Tobi’s in Nigeria visiting his grandparents and he was supposed to
return today but his grandmother’s not ready to let him go yet.”
“And Jalal?” Ayra curiously asked.
Ibrahim’s eyes held pure mischief. “Trust me; you don’t want to know
where Jalal is right now. All I can tell you is that he’s safe and sound and
he’ll be back tomorrow or next. They actually look forward to meeting both
of you and they’re putting plans in place for a lunch or dinner date so
proper introductions can be made. It’ll make up for them missing this
event.”
Ibtihaj nodded, hiding her amazement as that was the most he’d said since
the event began. “Very well.” She then smiled. “You can take Ayra away. If
you try anything funny ehn…”
Ayra face-palmed, embarrassed. “Oh God.”
Ibrahim chuckled, having no idea it further messed with Ayra’s heart. “I
won’t. You have my word.”
Ibtihaj opened her mouth to make a snarky remark but her mother called
out for her and Ayra had never been happier to push her best friend away.
She then turned to Ibrahim. “She can be a handful. I’m so sorry.”
“Ayra,” His smile was much wider. “It’s fine. Shall we go in?”
She nodded, applauding her calmness. “Sure.”
“Lead the way, please.”
She nodded again. “Okay.”
♣
Inside the house was soothingly quiet and Ayra loved it.
She led Ibrahim to the second living room, smiling at how different all of it
was. Seven years back, she’d been admiring him from behind the curtains
and now she was leading him in as his fiancé.
Ibrahim stepped in, looking around the cosy space. “This is different from
what I remember the first time I visited.”
Ayra kept her smile on as she softly closed the door. “Well, a lot of
renovation has been done.” The walls had been repainted, the curtains
changed, the sofas re-done, and the centre rug switched for another.
“Ummi and Baba like to keep their hands busy these days.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
34

Ibrahim stopped in front of the wall that held a new family portrait. “This is
different too.”
Ayra took small steps forward, stopping right beside him. She nodded. “It
is.”
The portrait had been taken a few days before she turned twenty; a family
photo session held between her exams. In the framed photo, Muhsin sat in
the middle of the loveseat while Ayra sat on his left, Salama on his right.
They were all captured laughing and Ayra was proud of the fact that she
was an absolute beauty in the frozen moment.
“It’s beautiful.” Ibrahim said, turning his head to look at her the same time
she did. “It’s very beautiful.”
In that moment she wondered if he was talking about the portrait or if he
meant she was very beautiful. Her heart told her it was the latter and she
gladly accepted it, blushing. Minutes later they sat on opposite sofas, the
centre rug and coffee table separating them.
Just like the first time she’d seen him, Ibrahim elegantly crossed one leg
over the other. He then rested his clasped hands on his knees. “Hello,
Ayra.”
Ayra, who did her best to sit as elegantly as he did, gave him a small smile.
“Hi.”
“Permit me to start by apologising for being a bad fiancé all this time.”
“It’s fine, Ibrahim, really. I knew you had a valid reason and we were
definitely going to see ourselves tonight so it was all good.”
“I actually wanted our first conversation to be in person but work was
being really demanding, especially with all the new branches we’ve opened.
With all my friends ditching work to have fun, it all fell on my shoulders so
it was really difficult to carve out time. I should have let you know instead
of the radio silence I gave.”
“Ibrahim,” Her nerves were going little by little but the butterflies stayed
put. “I’m serious. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise. We’re talking now
so…”
He nodded. “We are.” He let a moment go by. “I was actually surprised
when my dad called and said you’d accepted my proposal. I thought you’d
think about it for a little longer. After all, we’ve hardly spoken since our
families got to know each other.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
35

“Well…” Ayra wasn’t sure she was ready to have that conversation but
there was no way to go back now so she braced it. “Your reputation
precedes you and you’re someone I’ve looked up to for a while now so
getting a proposal from you was an honour. There wasn’t really any reason
to say no.”
Ibrahim raised a brow; it was only slightly but it was a very lethal move to
Ayra’s poor heart. “You’ve looked up to me for a while now? Are you
serious?”
Ayra’s entire being was burning. “Can we not talk about that?”
“I think we should.” He leaned forward a little. “I’m definitely intrigued
now.”
Her cheeks were too dark and way too hot. “What made you send me a
proposal though? I mean, you’re someone who can have any woman but
you chose me.”
“We’re not deflecting, Ayra. I’ll come back to your question but I want to
know how you’ve looked up to me for a while now. I’m intrigued.”
She wanted to disappear. “Ibrahim, please.”
“Ayra, please.”
Knowing she’d dug her own grave with her two hands, Ayra slowly exhaled.
“Well, you’ve made a name for yourself along with your friends and that’s
inspiring. That’s worth looking up to.”
“I don’t know why but it feels like there’s more you’re not telling me.”
“Oh God.”
He leaned back, making himself even more comfortable. He was smiling.
“Now I know there is more.”
Ayra gave up. “Maybe I’ve also liked you for a while…?”
His smile disappeared. “Are you serious?”
She nodded slowly, still wanting to disappear. She looked away from him,
focusing on the floral print on the curtains. Her voice was low when she
replied. “Yes.”
For a moment there was silence and then he spoke. “Well that makes me
feel a lot better.”
She looked back at him. “Why? It’s pumping your ego?”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
36

He laughed. “God, no. I’m not that kind of person.” He sighed and held
her gaze steadily. “I sent a proposal to you because I’ve liked you for a
while now, Ayra. I think it’s been nearly a year now. I can trace my feelings
back to October last year or thereabout.”
It was Ayra’s turn to be surprised. She couldn’t bring herself to even say
anything or ask if he was serious the same way he’d asked her minutes
earlier.
A little embarrassed, Ibrahim lowered his gaze to his hands. “I’ve known
about our family’s friendship from the very start, Ayra. I was with my father
on the first visit here which I’m sure you know about.”
He adjusted the silver watch on his wrist before bringing his gaze back to
hers. He was better composed and the rosiness of his cheeks was almost
gone. He continued. “I didn’t meet you that day and on the day I opened
The Hexad with my friends, I didn’t get to meet you either. I was told you
weren’t feeling too well.”
Ayra remembered that day all too well. She’d cried for hours and no one
knew she’d been crying over the fact that she’d missed an opportunity to be
with him and not because her stomach hurt.
“I think that was the last time I actually really got to hear of you and then I
got busy. Over the years it’s been hard for me to explain my feelings so you
can imagine how confused I was when I came across your post on my
explore page on Instagram and all I wanted to do was get to know you
better. Also, your user handle was intriguing. It’s not every day you see a
lady whose Instagram handle is a rare flower. A beautiful one at that.”
Ayra dazedly listened, very much in disbelief. Ibrahim went on.
“So, I did a little digging and it wasn’t long before I realised you were the
same Ayra Abdulaziz my parents spoke about from time to time; the very
daughter of one of my family’s nicest friends. I did want to reach out a lot
of times but God knows I always chickened out and when my emotions
began to spiral out of control, I spoke to my parents about it. As at that
time, they were already saying I had to start planning on settling down
so…It just sort of fell into place.”
He cleared his throat. “They were over the moon actually. My parents, I
mean. I contemplated coming over to say hi and to just kinda get to know
you better but Dad said we should go about everything the traditional way
and that I should trust him so I did.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “That
does not mean I didn’t freak out when he said they were going to send a

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
37

proposal on my behalf. It’s a miracle I didn’t collapse but don’t tell anyone I
said that. I’d never hear the end of it.”
Unable to help it, Ayra laughed and her heart soared when he joined in. It
was another proof that they were beautiful together.
“Really though, it was nerve wrecking.” He told her. “And I was getting
ready to wait for your response, no matter how long it took, so you can
imagine how I felt when I got a call from my dad, telling me my proposal
was accepted.”
“Were you happy?”
He smiled at her. “What else was there to feel?”
Ayra didn’t know what she’d been expecting but the way he’d asked the
rhetoric question beat every response she’d expected to hear from him. It
was such an Ibrahim thing to say and God, she loved it. She loved it a lot.
“Really,” He continued. “What else was there to feel? It felt like I’d been
handed the moon and I kept coming up with things to say when we
eventually met. I just didn’t think it was going to take us this long so…” He
shrugged slightly. “Here we are.”
Feeling so much at once, Ayra let her head drop and she focused on the
serpent bracelet on her wrist. “Wow…”
“That was a lot of offloading, right?”
She nodded. “It was.” A little courageous, she raised her head again to look
at him. When she found him smiling, she smiled right back and told him
the honest truth. “But it was beautiful and it makes me feel really nice,
knowing all this time my feelings weren’t one sided. So thank you, Ibrahim.
Thank you for offloading all of that on me.”
Right then, as they smiled at each other, the concept of time ceased to exist
and all that mattered was that very moment they were living in; a moment
so beautiful like never before. When Fareeda came with Salama to get them
to take them back to the yard where guests waited, Ibrahim told his fiancé
“I look forward to having you in my life now, Ayra.”
And it was very, very easy for Ayra to smile and honestly tell him “Me too,
Ibrahim. I look forward to having you in my life now too.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
38

04
The engagement party came to an end a few minutes past 10PM and Ayra
didn’t head back in until the last car – Ibrahim’s – was out of the
compound and out of sight.
Her parents laughed in the living room, lost in their bubble, so she let them
be and took the stairs up, knowing how everything would play out the
moment she entered her room where a particular nosy best friend
“patiently” waited after she all but chased her siblings and parents home.
Ibtihaj was on Ayra the second the room door opened. She took Ayra’s
hand, led her to the loveseat, forced her on the sofa, and then proceeded to
sit on the stool she’d moved from the front of the dresser.
“Oya start.” Ibtihaj’s smile was disturbingly wide and her curiosity was hot.
“If you leave out any detail, you and I know the things I can do to you.”
It all hit Ayra then and she buried her face in her hands, barely pushing
back a squeal. Ibtihaj rolled her eyes, already used to such reactions. “God
abeg.” She slapped the other’s leg. “Focus jare! You’re supposed to have
started talking.”
“God, Ibty.” Ayra raised her head. “I’ve never been more ready to get
married to this man. He’s perfect!”
“Madam, shey you know I was not there when you people were talking? All I
know is that when you two came back out to the yard, you were just
blushing and the two of you were smiling at each other like those primary
school idiots that fall in whatever they think love is.”
“Ibty, Ibrahim has liked me since last year.”
“Issa lie!” Ibtihaj’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Ayra, if you’re pulling my
leg, I can slap you.”
“I swear to Allah I’m not lying.” Ayra leaned forward, almost at the edge of
the sofa. Her eyes shone so brightly. “He said so himself. I may have
confessed to liking him but I didn’t tell him how long and then he started
talking. He’s liked me since last year.”
“How?!”
“That’s the crazy part.” Ayra was so excited and it was beautiful. “One of
my posts came up on his Instagram feed in October and he said at that time
all he wanted was to get to know me better so he did a little digging only to
realise I’m the same Ayra who is the daughter of his family’s friend.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
39

Ibtihaj blinked and blinked again. “Omo.” She moved the stool closer.
“Ayra, which kain juju be dat?”
Ayra laughed. “You’re just an animal, Ibty.”
“No na, serious matter. All this time we’ve been telling you to get over him
and Oga Fahad has liked you since! Why didn’t he say anything?”
“He actually told his parents and they were the ones who told him to go
about it the traditional way. According to him, he would have reached out
and would have gotten to know me better. I prefer how things turned out
though. This is much nicer.”
Ibtihaj was still stunned. “Olorun mi…Come first, which post did he see?”
Ayra grinned. “Those pictures we took on Nigeria’s independence day. The
ones where you dressed up in your cultural clothes and you made sure I
dressed up as a Yoruba girl too. He still has the screenshots on his phone.
It made everything more real.”
Ibtihaj grinned smugly. “Shey you see how big of a blessing I am in your
life? And you were making mouth that day, telling me you didn’t want to
post it. Shey you can see how I am an angel sent to you from Heaven?! See
well o!”
Ayra couldn’t stop laughing. “Ibty, please.”
“I’m serious, my friend. This is very sweet…Ehen, so what else did you two
talk about?”
Ayra leaned back, resting against the soft backrest the sofa had. Her smile
was smaller and her dimples were as deep as ever. “We just spoke about
how the past month has been and what we’ve been up to. He promised
we’d be meeting again soon. Then he told me he looks forward to having
me in his life from now on.” Warmth rose to her cheeks. “And I told him
the same.”
“Thank God you did not say I love you to him. Abeg no talk am until he
says it. Am I clear?”
Chuckling, Ayra nodded. “I’ll try my best.”
“Ayra!”
“Yes ma. I won’t tell him until he says it…What if he doesn’t say it? I’ve
told you how it is when it comes to his emotions. Even when he’s on TV or
stuff, it can be hard for him to say it.”
“Wó, he should try. But if it comes to that, and he’s shown you all along
what he can’t say in words, then maybe it won’t hurt to take the first step.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
40

She then glared. “But if you say those words when he has not proven
anything, Aomi will be too small for me and you because I will haunt you.
You’ll be seeing demon baby that has my face in your sleep.”
“God forbid.”
“Try me and see.”
Ayra rolled her eyes. “I’m done with you.”
Ibtihaj gladly unravelled her turban, tossing the veil on the bed. “So, what’s
next?”
Ayra got started on removing her jewellery. “I think they’d fix a date first
and then Ibrahim and I can get started on everything else.”
Ibtihaj began removing her jewellery too. “You know we’re starting masters
soon. Are you going to wait until we’re done?”
Ayra shot her an incredulous look. “Ibty, I’ve loved this man for seven
years of my life and now that I get the chance to finally be with him, you
think I’m going to wait for master’s to finish?” She scoffed. “You haven’t
seen anything. Besides, no one said I can’t be married while completing a
second degree. I just have to steer clear of pregnancies and that’s fine
because it’s not as though I ever planned on having kids right away.”
Ibtihaj made a dramatic sound. “This love thing sha…”
“I’ll soon slap you.”
They both laughed about it and went on to remove their abayas. They were
wiping off the make-up on their faces when the door was softly knocked
on. A moment later, Salama and Muhsin were peeping in, asking for
permission to enter; something Ayra immediately granted.
The parents sat on the loveseat while Ayra and Ibtihaj – like twins – sat side
by side on the bed. Muhsin put his hands together, smiling. “I hope you
two had fun.”
“We did.” Ibtihaj replied before Ayra could. “I don’t know about this one
because she was busy sharing love,” Salama and Muhsin laughed while Ayra
glared. “But I had a lot of fun. And omo, the food was sweet. Ah, e sweet
die.”
“I’m glad.” Salama said sweetly. “Ayra definitely had fun.”
Muhsin nodded, smiling teasingly at his daughter. “She did. Her fiancé
stayed beside her throughout after all.”
Ayra resembled a tomato. “Leave me alone.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
41

They laughed again. Much calmer, Muhsin got down to why he and Salama
were in the room. “Thankfully, the engagement party went well.
Alhamdulillah. News about it should hit the web by tonight or tomorrow
and the media might focus on you two a lot because you’re always together.
The Fahads have promised to keep you two safe. You know how crazy the
media can be sometimes.”
Ibtihaj and Ayra nodded soberly. He continued.
“Picking a date is the next step. Ibrahim has said he’s more than ready to
get married to you as soon as possible but there’s something to consider,
seeing how you’re about to start your master’s programme. We told them
we’d get back once we’ve heard from you. We want to know if you’ll be
okay getting married while running the programme or if you’d want to wait
until you’re done.”
“We’ll support you either way, Leilani.” Salama said. “It’s fully up to you.
You’re old enough to make your own decisions and we trust you. We’re
always going to trust you.”
Feeling nervous all of a sudden, Ayra exchanged glances with Ibtihaj who
smiled supportively. She then turned back to her parents. “I don’t want to
wait until I’m done with my programme. I mean, there isn’t any reason to.
Like Ibrahim, I also want to get married as soon as possible. I know that
means about two to three months from now but still…”
Both of them nodded and she went on. “And I think I can handle being
married and running a degree. I don’t plan on having kids immediately so I
should be alright.”
Muhsin and Salama nodded again. Muhsin spoke then. “Well, we can get
back to the Fahads first thing tomorrow morning. Salim and Fareeda
proposed a wedding in December should you chose to get married before
finishing the programme and I think that’s a good month. It’ll allow us plan
better while you and Ibrahim get to know yourselves more.”
Ayra hid her giddiness nicely. “December’s perfect.”
Salama chuckled, seeing through her daughter. “Oh Leilani…”
Ayra simply grinned, laughing a moment later when Ibtihaj shoved her
playfully. A minute and jokes later, Salama and Muhsin were gone. Ibtihaj
locked the room door and grabbed her phone, keeping Ayra stuck to her
like glue. “Oya o, let’s start looking for possible event locations. December
is close o.”
“Ibty, there’s still –”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
42

Ibtihaj was not listening. “In fact, let’s even start with where you’ll be living
sef. Ibrahim stays in Downtown Aomi abi? Omo, be ready to be seeing me in
your house every day.” She cackled. “Life is so sweet!”
Smiling, Ayra allowed herself get sucked into the madness. Deep inside, she
prayed for December to come quickly. The remaining part of the year was
going to be perfect, she was sure of it.
♣
On Wednesday August 19th 2020, Ayra and Ibrahim’s wedding was fixed
for Saturday, December 26th; the last Saturday of the year. As expected,
word got out about one of Atlantica’s most sought after bachelors finally
getting hitched and it didn’t take long for local and international media
establishments to try and dig out any information about Ayra Leilani
Abdulaziz.
A lot of women cried as their crush was getting off the market while a
number of men said Ibrahim Fahad was lucky to get a woman as pretty as
Ayra. Some were mean, wanting Ibrahim for themselves, and then there
were those who wanted to know if Ibtihaj was single because she was
“good looking too”.
On that same day, Fareeda Fahad invited Ayra and Ibtihaj for an intimate
dinner. As soon as both ladies said they’d love to attend, Fareeda
dispatched a driver; telling him to wait until after Maghrib before bringing
both ladies over to the Fahad home.
Ibtihaj was more excited than Ayra was. “I’m going to Palm Drive! Their
father!”
“Ibty, you better not be this hyped up when we get there.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Ayra. I shall be the calmest woman. You’ll be surprised.”
Ayra rolled her eyes. “I hope so.”
They got ready together at Ibtihaj’s place after praying Maghrib; both
opting for maxi dresses with waist sashes and wide sleeves with skirted
cuffs. While Ayra wore beige, Ibtihaj wore sage green, and they paired both
dresses with cream coloured chiffon veils and shoulder bags with chain
straps. They both decided to wear sandals and they ditched make-up and
jewellery.
Once they’d said goodbye to Falilat (who was just excited as Ibtihaj) and Al-
Amin, they left the house and got into the awaiting vehicle which was chilly,
thanks to the air conditioning that had been running. Like every other

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
43

vehicle the Fahads owned, it was luxuriously comfortable and it was heavily
tinted too. Ibtihaj soaked it all in. “Nice, nice, nice.”
Ayra couldn’t stop smiling. As they left the estate, her phone rang and her
butterflies happily flew out of their cages as she accepted the call, bringing
the device to her ear a moment later. “Assalam Alaykum. Hi, Ibrahim.”
“Waalaykum Salam.” His voice was deeply smooth, each word perfectly
articulated. “Hello, Ayra. How are you?”
“Good.” She was melting. “You?”
“Good too. I’m just getting off work. Mum called and said I should come
straight home. She said you’re coming over?”
“Yep. She asked Ibty and me to come for dinner and there was no way we
could say no so…”
“Perfect then. I was actually going to call you later but since we’ll be seeing
ourselves in a bit, I’ll just wait.”
Ayra’s dimples couldn’t get much deeper as she tried to not smile, especially
with how Ibtihaj shamelessly stared at her. “Okay…”
“I’ll see you in a bit then.”
“You will.”
“Bye, Ayra.”
“Bye.”
Ibtihaj turned then to look out of the tinted glass. “God o…I will love
too.”
Ayra’s blush deepened. “Leave me alone.”
“You wish.”
They fell quiet after that, taking in everything they drove past. The vehicle
drove out of Plum Boulevard and into the Monwict district which was
considered the country’s administrative area and also the home of the elite
families who came from generations of wealth; families like the Fahads.
The roads got wider and freer and the buildings got more and more elegant.
Modernity came together with a touch of history and it was so beautiful
that it left both Ayra and Ibtihaj in awe. The car drove past embassies and
the parliament house, went past a number of high class businesses and then
past the central bank. As it turned onto Palm Drive, one of Aomi’s
wealthiest residential areas, Ayra and Ibtihaj caught a glimpse of Aomi Aere
– the presidential house and offices – which sat in its glory in the distance.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
44

A security check was done and once it was confirmed that they were indeed
guests of the Fahads, the vehicle was allowed to proceed into the area. Ayra
took everything in like a kid in a candy store. No one could blame her.
She’d never visited Palm Drive, only her parents had. Ibtihaj was much
worse than her best friend and she nearly had her face pressed against the
glass just so she wouldn’t miss a single detail.
The houses were in huge compounds; each one more luxurious than the
last, and there was a lot of greenery which put that of Haven Estate – where
both of them lived with their families – to shame. There was a lot of
security too. It wasn’t long before the car came to a slow stop in front of
double gates that gave a peek of what lay on the other side. The best friends
held each other’s hand and watched, fascinated, as the driver spoke to the
security team and then the gates went open, allowing him drive in.
There was no way Ayra could hold her gasp. Ibtihaj couldn’t hold hers too.
The circular driveway was wide and situated in its very middle was a well
mowed front lawn with a few crape myrtle trees planted feet away from
each other and a water fountain that worked perfectly well, lit up
beautifully. Beyond the driveway was the magnificent architectural structure
which was the villa itself; a Palladian mansion with vast classical
proportions, a colonnade entrance with the tall columns, and an iconic
exterior façade made from hand carved limestone to give an imposing first
impression.
There were also a lot of windows; some lit and others dark, and it made
them wonder just how many rooms the mansion had. Running the length
of both sides of the mansion were well kept hedges and even more trees.
The garage sat on the left side of the compound and the doors were closed,
denying Ayra and Ibtihaj the view of the cars parked inside.
The vehicle came to a stop right in front of the mansion’s entryway and
once the driver opened the door for them, the best friends got out. They
still held onto each other’s hands, too in awe to even let go.
“You may go in.” The driver told them. “There’ll surely be someone to
attend to you on the other side.”
Ayra and Ibtihaj could only nod, staring at the towering structure in front of
them. Ayra squeezed her best friend’s hand as the driver got back into the
car to drive it away from the entrance. “Ibty…”
“I can see, Ayra. I’m looking at it too.”
The front doors went open, getting the attention of both ladies, and with a
wide smile on her face, Fareeda stepped out. She was regal in navy blue and

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
45

her hair – which was uncovered – rested on her right shoulder in a single
plait; streaks of grey contrasting with the dark black.
“Ladies, welcome!”
Ayra and Ibtihaj knew better than to keep standing. They put one leg in
front of the other, ascended the three front steps, and closed the space
between them and Fareeda who was more than happy to pull them into
warm embraces and then usher them in.
If they thought the mansion exterior was magnificent, Ayra and Ibtihaj were
blown away by the interior which began in the hallway that was as wide as
the second living room in Haven Estate’s houses. The ceiling was high with
lovely stonemasonry, holding the brightly lit crystal ball chandelier that
hung down. Paintings hung on both walls, drawer chests beneath them,
resting on tiles that were so clean they shone; displaying carefully curated
patterns on the ground.
Unaware of how much of a daze they were in, Fareeda led the way deeper
inside. “Come in, ladies. I was just ensuring the table’s set. Since this is the
first time you’re both visiting, why don’t I show you around before Salim
and Ibrahim arrive?”
Ayra and Ibtihaj gladly nodded and they followed right behind her.
Beyond the hallway was the grand staircase, a curved beauty that gave
access to the upper floor and the basement level. There were a lot of doors
around the staircase and Fareeda took them from one room to the other,
each one more elegant than the last. The main living room was a
masterpiece and luxury sat in every corner. The dining room was huge,
comfortably taking a glass topped table that sat twenty-two chairs; all of
which sat underneath yet another chandelier.
The kitchen was out of the world and Ayra watched alongside her best
friend as the cooks cleaned up, finishing whatever was left for the dinner
they were about to have. Fareeda led them out of the busy space. “Let’s
move on.”
Ibtihaj held onto Ayra’s arm, whispering. “Come, are you sure you’re not
marrying a man that’s secretly a prince? Ayra, na palace be this o.”
Ayra had nothing to say in reply, not when she was left breathless at it all.
She’d always known the Fahads were elite; everyone knew it. However, no
speculation of just how much they had did justice to what she was currently
seeing and it was the first time she understood what those close to her had
meant back then when they told her to get over her feelings because she
and Ibrahim were “worlds apart”. They were on two different pedestal

LATIFAH EFUA A.
46

levels and the realisation was scarily humbling. That didn’t mean she wasn’t
still going to love him moving forward. She was going to keep doing so.
The mansion had three floors (two floors above the ground and a basement
level), eight bedrooms, ten bathrooms, two kitchens, four reception rooms
(Fareeda liked to call them drawing rooms), a study which doubled as an
office, a library, and a cinema that took up the entire basement level.
Fareeda then led them out through one of the backdoors and Ayra
wondered, once again, if she really knew how wealthy the Fahads were. A
wellness centre sat at the back of the mansion; having a gym, a pool, a
steam room and a sauna, and a sunken limestone terrace opening that
opened out from the pool area into the rear gardens which were just as
beautiful as every other part of the property. Then there was the staff
quarter for staff members who stayed overnight. It had four bedrooms,
four bathrooms, a lounge, and a kitchen.
By the time she led them back in, Ayra and Ibtihaj were ready to collapse
underneath their disbelief. Luckily, Fareeda was called into the kitchen and
as soon as she was out of sight, both best friends allowed their knees
buckle, leaning against the walls for support.
“Oh my God.” Ayra breathed. “Oh. My. God.”
“See,” Ibtihaj said. “I don’t care again. Your wedding must big. I must do
owambe. Omo! Ayra, this isn’t a mansion. This is a palace and I can argue it
out with anyone’s unfortunate ancestor. You didn’t tell me they were this
rich na!”
“Do you think I knew it myself? Did you forget that this is my first time
here?”
“Hei, that’s true. Omo, wahala dey…What now?”
“What do you mean what now? We’re going to have dinner with them.”
Ayra straightened. “And we’re going to do our best to not drool over
everything we see. God, this house is beautiful.”
“Palace, madam.” Ibtihaj straightened too. “Palace o…We’re going to do
our best to be calm and composed.” She nodded twice. “I fit do am.”
“We’ll be okay.”
Ibtihaj nodded again. “Yes, we will be. Come, let’s go and find that dining
room.”
“Yes, let’s do that.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
47

Linking their arms once again, they walked forward, looking left and right
to take everything in they walked past; going against the “calm and
composed” mantra they’d just shared. They were going past the hallway
when the front doors went open and they stopped, curiously turning to see
who it was. Ayra’s breath hitched.
Ibrahim, yet to notice them, turned around to close the doors he’d walked
in through. With his back still facing them, he took off the black coat he
wore, revealing a brown knitted turtleneck which he’d tucked into even
darker trousers. There were black boots on his feet and his curls were
unruly, as though he’d run his hands through them a lot on the way home.
Ayra watched, entranced – as usual – by everything that was Ibrahim Fahad.
With a sigh, he turned around and stopped, clearly surprised to see them
both. While Ibtihaj grinned widely and wickedly, Ayra couldn’t bring herself
to do much as his eyes met hers; onyx depths holding her captive.
His lips moved slightly, turning into a very small smile. He put his free hand
in his pocket while his other arm held his coat, his watch shining when the
light hit it. “Hello, Ayra.”
Ayra forced air back into her lungs. “Hi.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
48

05
Less than a quarter of the long dining table was set for dinner; delicacies
served on gold and silver platters. Ibrahim led Ayra and Ibtihaj into the
room and right behind them were Fareeda and Salim, who’d arrived a
minute after Ibrahim did.
Each person easily found a seat; Salim at the head of the table with Fareeda
on his right and Ibrahim right beside her. Ayra and Ibtihaj sat on the
opposite side; Ibtihaj right in front of Fareeda and Ayra right in front of her
fiancé.
“I literally rushed home when Fareeda said you two were here.” Salim said
as he unfolded his napkin, as elegantly as ever. He spread it on his laps.
“I’ve been pressing for a family dinner but no one seemed to be paying me
any attention.”
Ayra smiled warmly but before she could reply, Fareeda spoke. “I wanted
to invite them over this weekend,” She turned to her son. “But Ibrahim said
he has some plans in place already.”
Ayra and Ibtihaj turned towards Ibrahim who calmly helped himself with a
glass of water, saying “Mum, you really know how to ruin surprises.”
Salim laughed while Fareeda grinned. “As I should.” She then faced the
awaiting staff. “You can start serving, please.”
Ibtihaj spoke very quietly as the two staff members moved. “Omo.”
Ayra had to stop herself from saying “tell me about it”. As they were served
the entrée dish of Hoisin chicken rolls with dipping sauce, Salim turned to
Ayra. “How do you feel about the date we set for the wedding,
sweetheart?”
Her smile returned, wider than it had been. “It’s perfect. It’s the best way to
celebrate the last Saturday of the year, and I love the fact that it’s the
holiday season so everyone can be able to attend without having to worry
about getting a leave from work and all of that.”
Fareeda turned to her son again. “You should learn from your fiancé,
Ibrahim. Look at how well she’s described how she feels.”
Ibrahim rolled his eyes. “Mum, please. We’ve gone through this time and
time again. It’s not like your husband’s any better.”
Salim chuckled. “Well, I had to learn.”
“And so will I.” Ibrahim stated. “Let me do it at my own pace.”
It was Fareeda’s turn to roll her eyes. “You might to do so a little faster.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
49

“Fareeda,” Salim began. “It’s okay.” He then turned to Ibtihaj who’d
exchanged amusedly curious looks with Ayra. “What about you, Ibty? How
do you feel?”
Ibtihaj’s grin was blinding. “I am very excited! I look forward to it.”
Salim grinned too. “We do too…This is your first time here, right? I don’t
recall you two ever walking through these doors.”
Ayra nodded. “It is. We were blown away, honestly. It’s a beautiful
property.”
Salim nodded, bringing a roll to his mouth and taking a bite. He didn’t
speak until he’d chewed and swallowed. “It is. My parents were in love with
mansions like this so they had one of the best companies in England
recreate the Dawn Hill at Wentworth. It’s a mansion built in the 1920’s or
thereabout.”
Ayra couldn’t hide her amazement. “Wow.”
Salim chuckled. “Wow indeed. It’s come in handy since it officially became
mine and Fareeda’s. It’s held a lot of memories too.” He then smiled at
both Ayra and Ibtihaj. “And we look forward to making even new ones
moving forward.”
Excitement bubbled underneath Ayra’s skin and she did her best to hide it
so she didn’t seem too eager to become an official member of their family.
Beside her, Ibtihaj had a composed expression but deep inside, she was
daydreaming about how she’d have the liberty to tour the property each
time the opportunity presented itself.
“I can’t wait to get started on renovating what would be your room here,
Ayra.” Fareeda said enthusiastically. “I’ll ensure it’s lovely.”
Nearly frowning, Ayra turned to Ibrahim. “We’ll be living here?”
Ibrahim lowered the glass he’d taken a sip from and shook his head. “No,
we won’t. But there will be sleepovers and times when we’ll have to visit for
events that’ll be held.”
Both Ayra and Ibtihaj nodded, speaking like the twins they always claimed
to be. “Oh…”
“While this man here is a workaholic like his father,” Fareeda said, ignoring
the way both men glared. “I look forward to having you two over a lot.
You’re both going to be my daughters now so you should know that these
doors are always going to open to you two. If anyone tries to say or do

LATIFAH EFUA A.
50

otherwise, do not hesitate to let me know. They’ll hear from me. Am I
clear?”
With matching smiles and different – but warm – emotions, Ayra and
Ibtihaj nodded. The rest of dinner went well with scrumptious meals and
hearty conversations. When it was all over, Fareeda happily took Ibtihaj for
another tour while Salim retired to his study to make a few calls. Ayra
followed Ibrahim and he led her to the back, right to the rear gardens.
They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then he spoke “I
really like the fact that we’re getting married before the year runs out.”
She stole a glance, her hands in front of her. “Really?”
He nodded. “Do not get me wrong, I was willing to wait until you finished
your master’s degree if that was what you chose.” He stopped and so did
she. “But if I’m being very honest, I prefer this arrangement.”
They faced each other and her smile was so pretty. “Well, it is said that
when a good suitor presents himself, there isn’t any need to delay a
marriage.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s very true.”
“And I know I’ll be able to do it.” She held his gaze although it did things
to her deep inside. Her butterflies were having a field day. “Running a
master’s degree and being married to you, I mean.”
He gave her one of his small smiles. “I have no doubt that you can. No kids
in our first year, right?”
She nodded, colour staining her cheeks at the images that popped up in her
head; images she immediately pushed away. “Right. Did you want us to
have kids immediately?”
He immediately shook his head, his brows furrowing. “No. I didn’t want
that.”
“Why this reaction?”
His expression relaxed. “I don’t…” He sighed. “I love the idea of kids and I
do want to have a family someday but I believe two people should get used
to being married for at least a year before the kids come along. That way
there’s stability and they’re ready to make changes to fit the kid into their
lives.”
Ayra honestly fell a little deeper. “You should know that I think the same.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
51

He visibly relaxed even further. “That makes me feel better. I’m sorry if my
reaction was controversial. I had a difficult moment trying to explain what I
meant.”
“It’s fine, Ibrahim. I understand.”
They resumed walking and she spoke a little later. “Honestly, the property’s
pretty but it’s really, really huge.” She kept the last part to herself; the
property was also very intimidating.
“Don’t tell my parents but I think it’s way too big too.”
That surprised her and she whipped her head in his direction. “Are you
serious?”
He nodded, his hands in his pockets as he led them towards the wellness
centre where the pool was. “I am…Most days, like today, only my parents
and the staff members are home so most of the rooms are empty and once
everyone goes to sleep, it can be eerily silent. I don’t like it, which is why I
was more than happy to move out when the opportunity presented itself.
The bachelor pad is cosier and I don’t have to worry about ghosts in my
house.”
She laughed at the absurdity of it all. “Ibrahim Fahad is scared of ghosts?”
He was trying so hard not to smile. “You’d be very surprised.”
She laughed again and he finally smiled. They stopped at the edge of the
pool, staring at the clear, blue water. She then faced him, quietly asking
“You live at the Windy Gates, right? In Downtown Aomi.”
He nodded, once again giving her his full attention. “I do…If you’re going
to ask if that’s where we’ll live when we get married, the answer’s no.” He
smiled a little when her cheeks darkened. “The bachelor pads are no place
to have a family and I’ve been a little sick of it lately…Bella and her lover
moved recently and they’ve had nothing but good reviews so I got us an
apartment at The Oasis. We’ll be staying there when we get married In Shaa
Allah.”
Ayra’s heart did a flip and her stomach dipped. Her eyes became so wide
they nearly popped out of their sockets. “I-I’m sorry, what? I don’t think I
heard you clearly.”
His amusement was as visible as the sun on a summer day. “You heard me
clearly, Ayra.”
“Did you say The Oasis?!”
“I most certainly did.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
52

She sputtered, making hand gestures until she found the right words. She
reminded herself to breathe. “We’ll be living in The Oasis?!”
His amusement began to fade. “Do you not like The Oasis?”
“Are you crazy?!” She could barely stand still. “Ibrahim, The Oasis was
ranked as one of the most luxurious residential structures in Atlantica, not
just Aomi. Every apartment there costs a lot.”
He nodded slowly, as calm as ever. “I am aware. I could also afford it so…”
Ayra’s heart flipped again. “Oh my God.” There was disbelief and
excitement; both emotions going neck to neck. “Oh my God…The Oasis.”
“You’ll love it. It’s currently being cleaned out and then they’d get started
on furnishing. Everyone’s telling me you should be the one to furnish it but
I was hoping to do things differently. I want the finished apartment to be a
surprise to you.”
Ayra could only stare at him, wondering just what more he had in store and
if she could take it all. She realised then that she’d always dreamt of being
his wife. She never put in her head that if she ever became his wife, there
were so many things that were going to change; starting with the lifestyle
she’ll be moving into.
After Monwict, Downtown Aomi was the second most luxurious area and
it crawled with politicians, celebrities and influencers, foreign settlers born
into wealth, prodigies like Ibrahim and his friends, and then the rich
families who had so much money to spend. Downtown Aomi was the
contemporary version of Monwict and every single place there was
beautiful as well as freaking expensive. High on the list of the most
luxurious properties was the twelve-floored residential building named The
Oasis; the same place she was now going to live in a few months.
Ayra couldn’t believe it. She also couldn’t wait to tell Ibty.
She snapped out of her head when she felt warmth on her left cheek and
her eyes widened even further when she realised Ibrahim was now right in
front of her, his hand on her cheek. He didn’t break their locked gaze. “Are
you okay?”
She wasn’t. Her heart was going haywire and so was every brain circuit. Did
she tell him that? No, she did not. She nodded, praying her lungs didn’t give
up on her. “Yeah. I was just really amazed at everything.”
“Does this make you uncomfortable? My hand on your cheek, I mean.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
53

A part of her currently short circuited brain told her to say yes but every
other part of her screamed no. His hand on her cheek felt really good and
God, she felt so safe. She shook her head. “No.”
He smiled then and it wasn’t a small smile. It was a wide smile that nearly
had her knees buckling. He was beautiful. He was so, so beautiful. “Good.”
He let his hand drop and he took a step back. “I’ve wanted to do that since
the engagement party. You’re a very beautiful woman, Ayra, and I’m
honoured to have you as my fiancé.”
Dear God, Ayra prayed, be merciful to my heart. Please.
“Mum mentioned me having plans for us this weekend.” He said, saving
her from having to think of a reply. “Every member of the squad is back in
town and they want to meet you and Ibty on Saturday. It’ll be a dinner at
Nathaniel and Anneth’s house; just something small and intimate. It’ll be
fun too.”
Her excitement returned in full force and she grinned. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Very. I do look forward to it.”
“I look forward to it too!”
He stared at her for a long moment before he smiled. “Come on, let’s go
back in. I’ll text you the details later. For now, let’s go in and pray Isha.
Let’s join Ibty too.”
Ayra happily nodded. “Let’s do that.”
An hour later, the same driver who’d brought them drove Ayra and Ibty
out of Monwict, back towards Plum Boulevard. He bit back a small smile as
he listened to both ladies scream excitedly in the backseat about all that’d
happened in the hours they’d spent in the mansion and then make plans for
the Saturday dinner date they had with The Hexad Squad which consisted
of six of Atlantica’s most sought after individuals.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
54

06
“…so Ibrahim and I have agreed that since September is going to busy for
me with school and all, we’ll take things slowly to just kind of know each
other better and also make decisions regarding the type of wedding we want
and regarding everything else that’ll come after.”
It was Saturday morning and the Abdulaziz family sat around their dining
table, leisurely eating breakfast of rice pudding while filling each other in on
the latest developments.
“I think that’s a good plan.” Muhsin said, turning to his wife who nodded
in agreement. He turned back to Ayra. “That way, you can finish up
registration and documentation before you two provide the framework
you’d want us to work with for the wedding and, like you said, for
everything that comes after.”
Ayra smiled, nodding after taking yet another spoon of the sweet dish.
“Exactly!”
Salama lowered her spoon and used her napkin to clean her hands. “So,
how has being engaged been so far?”
“God, Ummi!” Ayra let her head dramatically fall to the table, causing her
parents to laugh. “It’s beautiful, honestly.” She picked her head back up.
“Ibrahim’s everything I’ve imagined and so much more. I think what I love
most is how vocal he is with me. He’s quiet to the whole world but when
we’re together, he talks a lot and I love it.”
Her expression turned dreamy and she rested her face on the hand she
propped up on the table. “He’s doing better at explaining what he feels too,
all for my sake, and it doesn’t get better than that. Also, he’s really attentive
and he always ensures I’m comfortable. Honestly, I’m living my best life
and I love it so, so much.”
Salama mirrored her daughter’s position; propping up a hand on the table
and resting her face on it. “I feel like there’s more.”
Ayra’s expression became sober and she sighed. “It’s just crazy how elite his
family actually is. It’s intimidating sometimes, especially when I take a
minute to really think about it.” She smiled again. “But I know I’ll be fine.”
Muhsin reached out and put a hand on hers, smiling. “You will be fine. We
have no doubt about it. Just keep being yourself.”
“And do not get too swayed by everything.” Salama added. “They’re a very
wealthy family and you’re going to see it all come into play when the
wedding plans are put into motion. While it’s always nice when a lot of

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
55

money and planning goes into a wedding, it’s still you who has control over
how most of the things should go so don’t get swayed by the fact that
they’re elite. It doesn’t matter how expensive things are going to be when
they’re shown to you; if you don’t like it or you’re not comfortable, then we
don’t have to go with any of the provided choices.”
“But,” Ayra shifted a little uncomfortably. “What if Ibrahim likes the
choices? What happens then?”
“You shouldn’t love someone more than you love yourself, Ayra.” Muhsin
said softly. “If Ibrahim loves something and you love it too, then that’s fine.
But if he loves something and you’re not okay with it, you don’t have to go
through with it. Loving someone doesn’t automatically mean loving
everything they love, including the things you don’t love. Differences are
healthy in a relationship.”
“As long as they’re well communicated.” Salama quickly added, smiling
when Ayra turned her way. “Always love yourself before loving someone
else, Leilani, because on the days that’ll be hard, you can only be there for
yourself. No one can be there for you if you’re not there for yourself.”
Muhsin nodded. “Exactly.”
Salama rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Don’t even start, Muhsin.”
“I love you too.”
Ayra laughed, feeling really light and really loved. “Don’t start being all
mushy here…I love you both. Thank you.”
Like they always did since she was a kid, both Salama and Muhsin smiled
warmly at her and told her she was welcome. The conversation then shifted
to the date she and Ibtihaj had that night with Ibrahim’s friends who’d
become his second family.
“I’m excited!” Ayra was on the edge of her seat. “This is a big deal for me,
Ibty too. God, I can’t wait to meet them. I really hope they love me.”
“They will love you.” Salama assured, picking her spoon. “What’s there not
to love?”
Ayra blushed furiously. “Ummi…”
“It’s true.” Muhsin told her, bopping her nose before pulling his hand back.
“You’re the most lovable person, sweetheart, and so is Ibty. If they don’t
see that, they’re blind.”
Ayra blushed even further. Salama chuckled before she asked “So, who do
you look forward to meeting most?”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
56

Images of a certain Italian woman filled Ayra’s mind and she nearly
swooned, her smile wide enough to split her face in two. “Bella…I can’t
wait to meet Isabella Valentino.”
♣
Anneth and Nathaniel Samson – the only ones married in the Hexad Squad
– lived on the crescent shaped residential area that sat between Downtown
Aomi and Eastside, a tourist favourite district in Aomi filled with a lot of
attractions and recreational areas with a few residential structures here and
there.
When the car sent to pick them up came to a stop in front of tall black
gates that hid everything beyond it, Ayra and Ibtihaj took little breaths to
calm their nerves and excitement. According to Ibrahim, it was going to be
a casual and fun-filled dinner so both of them were dressed the part.
Ayra was in a white long sleeved shirt which she’d tucked into the
waistband of black, loose and overly comfortable trousers. She’d then worn
a long beige knitwear sweater jacket over the shirt and trousers, completing
the look with a tortilla coloured veil – which she draped over her head,
covering the same coloured cap she wore underneath – and white platform
sneakers for added height because she knew every one of Ibrahim’s friends
was taller than she was.
Ibtihaj, on the other hand, was very comfortable in wide legged boyfriend
jeans which she paired with a white, loose, button-down tunic shirt that
stopped mid-thigh, a dark brown veil, and denim sneakers. They both took
along tote bags which held the necessities; phones, purses, and their little
toiletry kits as one could never be too careful.
The gates automatically went open after the driver dialled in and just like
the time they visited the Fahad Mansion, Ayra and Ibtihaj were left
speechless. A driveway led from the gates to the villa itself which sat deep
inside the compound. The driveway was wide with trees on both sides,
beyond which were well mowed lawns. The villa was beautiful; a bungalow
that perfectly combined stone walls and full glass windows and doors.
Right at the entrance was Ibrahim and he gave both of them a small, warm
smile when they got out of the car. Ayra told her heart to be still as it went
feral at the sight of Ibrahim in distressed jeans and a turtleneck top with
sandals on his feet. He had his hands in his pockets. “You two got here
good?”
Ayra nodded, Ibtihaj doing the same beside her. “We did.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
57

“Omo,” Ibtihaj stated. “You guys are very classy when it comes to property
sha.”
Ibrahim chuckled. “We are.” He turned to the driver, thanking him for
bringing them safely, and then he turned around. “Come on, everyone’s
already inside.”
Both their hands finding each other’s, Ayra and Ibtihaj followed. Beyond
the dark front door was the foyer; a wide space with cream tiles and off-
white walls. There was a wide circular mirror on one wall and a tall shelf
right beside it which held beautifully framed photos of Anneth and
Nathaniel as well as a welcome sign that read “Welcome to Nathaniel &
Anneth’s Home. Nathaniel has to be on good behaviour though, or he’ll be kicked out”.
Ayra loved it and it made Ibtihaj burst out laughing. The foyer had two
single sofas too and a contemporary chandelier which shone brightly.
As Ibrahim led them into the sleek living room, a male screamed out. “Yo,
they’re here! You guys better get the heck out of those rooms. Anneth and
Nate, you better not be getting freaky in there!”
Ibtihaj and Ayra exchanged astonished looks before stepping in deeper after
Ibrahim who chuckled before he said “Burst our eardrums, Jalal. That’s all
you’ve wanted to do anyways since the very first day we all got introduced.”
Ayra’s eyes widened and Ibtihaj’s breath hitched at the male who laughed as
he half-hugged Ibrahim. “Get out, Ibrahim, before I embarrass you in front
of your fiancé.”
“I dare you. I don’t have much embarrassing moments. You though…”
Pushing his friend away, Jalal Ahmad faced Ayra and Ibtihaj. His smile was
breath-taking. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you two. I’m Jalal Ahmad,” He
pointed towards Ibrahim. “And I’m that idiot’s best friend. Well, I’m one of
them.”
His file opened in Ayra’s head and everything she knew about him got
refreshed in her brain’s library. Jalal Ahmad, the only Software Analyst in
the group; the same age as Ibrahim, and an Atlantican from Costa Casa
with Moroccan blood from his maternal side. He was extremely intelligent,
worked his way through systems and applications as though they were
abc’s, had a lot of money, and was the life of every party. He was very loud
too and he was a beauty; golden skin, cognac eyes, Grecian nose, round lips,
and one firm jaw.
Before Ayra could say it was nice to meet him too, Ibtihaj’s mouth opened
and the words stumbled out before her brain caught up. “You’re a fine man
sha.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
58

A moment passed and then they all laughed, the embarrassment and
awkwardness fading away. Jalal wiped away a fake tear. “God, I’m going to
love having you around. You’re so –”
He was pushed away and both ladies found themselves starring at a widely
smiling Anneth. She squealed and threw her arms around them, pulling
Ayra and Ibtihaj into a bone crushing hug. “God, I’m so happy to meet you
two!”
Anneth Samson who used to be Anneth Davies until she got married to
Nathaniel as soon as he became a certified healthcare professional. She was
an Atlantican from Nohea, a year younger than Ibrahim, a computer
analyst, and a woman with the best of connections at home and abroad. She
was considered the mother of the squad with her big heart and stern
attitude when the situation called for it. Like everyone else in the squad, she
was brilliant and God, she was beautiful; chestnut brown skin and same
shade of eyes, a straight nose, bow shaped lips, a very curvaceous body so
many people drooled over, and an enviable afro currently in jumbo box
braids. Also, she scented nice, and she hosted the best parties.
She pulled back, her smile still wide. “You guys have no idea how eager I’ve
been for your arrival. We’re gonna have so much fun together, I promise.”
“Sweetheart, you’re gonna scare them away at this point. Let them breathe.”
Anneth giggled, turning to the male who stopped right beside her. “Leave
me alone.”
He smiled lovingly at her. “I can’t.”
Ayra was ready to melt as she watched Nathaniel Samson peck his wife’s
lips before turning to her and Ibtihaj, smiling as he said it was really, really
nice to meet them both.
Nathaniel Samson was the only non-tech person in the squad but that
didn’t mean he didn’t know how to work his way around computers and
applications with how long they’d been around each other. He was a
paediatric doctor, a mix of Atlantican blood and that of Madagascar, the
oldest in the squad – a year and half older than Ibrahim, the wealthiest in
the squad (once generational wealth was out of the picture), and also the
tallest. He was the second quietest after Ibrahim but everyone in the world
knew he was whipped for his wife. Anneth had him tightly wrapped around
her finger.
“Yo…Y’all are making introductions and no one called me? Y’all are
snitches, I swear. You’re all crazy.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
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It was amazing how well Ibtihaj hid her excitement. Anneth rolled her eyes,
clearly enjoying the feel of her husband’s arm around her shoulders. “And
that would be Tobi, the idiot of the group.”
Tobi Enioluwa joined them, lightly slapping Anneth’s arm before he turned
to Ayra and Ibtihaj. “Sup?”
Ibtihaj squeezing the life out of Ayra’s hand was the only thing that stopped
her from squealing and it made Ayra want to laugh as Ibty had been
vehemently saying she does “not have a crush on Tobi Enioluwa”.
Tobi Enioluwa was a year older than Ibrahim, making him the second
oldest after Nathaniel, and he was a computer scientist. A Nigerian from
Osun, he was one of the best computer scientists who graduated from De
Montfort and he went on to become a star in West London before moving
to Aomi with the rest of the squad as soon as they all finished schooling.
He was tall, smart, stylish, loud and a party lover, and he was almost too
handsome for his own good; a man who rocked his dark skin well. Also, he
was loyal to his family which was something Ibtihaj really loved.
“Are you done talking to girlfriend number three?” Anneth asked. “I hope
she’s not fighting with girlfriend number four.”
Tobi smirked. “They know better. I already tell them I’m not ready to
commit in the long run and that I’m seeing other people but they always get
ahead of themselves. They can fight for all they want. I’m only whipped for
Number Three, so…”
Ibrahim chuckled. “You’re such a playboy.”
Tobi mock-bowed. “Glad to be at your service.”
Ayra turned to look at Ibtihaj and it took a lot of strength to not burst out
laughing. Every admiration Ibtihaj had for Tobi was gone and she looked at
him as though he was the worst thing the Earth provided. The friends were
too engrossed in their playboy jokes to even notice.
“Ben fatto, Jalal. I told you to call me as soon as they arrived.”
Ayra felt her world stop. Slowly, she turned and like every time she came
across an article, a picture, or a video, her heart skipped at the beauty of the
Italian woman named Isabella Valentino.
Isabella “Bella” Valentino was the type of woman that made heads turn
when she walked into a room. She was ethereally stunning and she knew it.
She had flawlessly long legs and the short romper she wore accentuated
them along with her physique that so many people were ready to worship.
Her hair was a deep shade of black and it was long. On days like this, it was

LATIFAH EFUA A.
60

straight, and on other days her natural waves were on full display. Her skin
always had a tanned shade and she rocked it well. Then there was her face;
perfectly carved full brows, stormy grey close-set eyes with lashes that put
so many others to shame, a straight nose that barely needed contouring
when she wore full make-up, and full lips that had rocked so many shades
of lipstick; lips that many men and women always said they wanted to kiss.
Bella was a software engineer like Ibrahim and their similarities didn’t stop
there. They were the same age, born a day apart from each other (Bella was
born first), and they’d both topped their class in each year they’d spent in
school. They were the first members of the squad to meet each other and
they were the ones who came up with the ideas for most of the applications
they’d created over the years. They were also the ones who ran the
company and among all six of them, Ibrahim and Bella were the closest.
They were so close than they’d been suspected to be together once but
Bella had told the world she had a lover; a man she hid very well as he
wasn’t as popular as they were. Even Ayra, with all her digging, didn’t have
a clue as to who Bella’s lover was.
She pulled Ayra into a hug and it was hard for Ayra to miss the scent of her
perfume. She pulled back a little later. “Dio, it’s so good to meet you, Ayra.”
Ayra opened her mouth to say it was so good to meet her too but what
came out was “You scent exactly like Ibrahim.”
Every member of the squad burst out laughing and Ayra would have
exchanged looks with Ibtihaj if the beauty of the scene – especially the
beautiful sight of Ibrahim laughing – did not knock the air out of her lungs.
Anneth nodded when they were sober. “The biggest perfume thief in this
group is Bella and I think Ibrahim’s tired of changing his perfumes because
of her so they’ve stuck to this one. We all have actually. He’s rubbed off on
us and I have no doubt he’s going to rub off on you too.”
Ayra’s cheeks burned as she told Bella “I’m sorry.”
Bella waved it off, still laughing. “It’s fine.” She then hugged Ibtihaj. “You
must be Ibty. It’s so nice to meet you too.”
Ibtihaj, who was as big of an admirer of Bella the way Ayra was, smiled
back. Deep inside, she was over the moon. “It’s really nice to meet you
too.”
“Okay!” Anneth clapped her hands, getting their attention. “Allow me to
do the official introductions. Guys, this is Ayra Abdulaziz and her best
friend, Ibtihaj Adeola.” She smiled proudly. “I finally pronounced it right!”

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Ayra and Ibtihaj nodded, causing her to smile even wider while the others
shook their heads with fond smiles. Anneth ignored them and went on.
“Ayra and Ibty, this is the Hexad Squad. I’m Anneth Samson, and this man
right here is my lovely husband, Nathaniel. You already know Ibrahim so
I’ll skip him. This is Jalal and he’s the life of any party.”
Jalal saluted. “At your service.”
“And this is Tobi, the biggest flirt you’ll ever meet and also the most
ruthless heartbreaker.”
Tobi brought a hand to his heart. “You wound me, Anneth.”
The only person who didn’t laugh was Ibtihaj as she quickly eyed him in
disgust, wondering why she’d liked him out of everyone in the group.
Anneth went on. “And this is Bella, our damsel. She’s the friendliest person
and also the most secretive, especially when it comes to that lover of hers
that I can’t tell you about yet.”
Bella laughed. “I’m done with you, Anneth.”
“I love you too.”
Ayra smiled so beautifully and her cheeks darkened when Tobi said her
dimples were arrows shot at his heart. “It’s really lovely to meet you all.”
“Same here.” Ibtihaj said with a smile of her own. “I’m honoured.”
Anneth beamed as though they’d handed her the sun. She took their hands.
“On that note, do come in. I shall gladly take you around. And before I
forget, you’re welcome. You’re welcome to mine and Nathaniel’s humble
home.”
And with that, she pulled them in.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
62

07
The Samson Villa was designed in the shape of the letter ‘U’ and it was
more beautiful inside than it was outside. The villa was built to centre
around a pool that was clearly built for ultimate relaxation. It – the villa –
had four bedrooms, three bathrooms, one big garage, and lots of greenery
in front with half of that size at the back. There was a gym too.
The living room was to die for and so were the kitchen and the master
bedroom which Anneth and Nathaniel shared, as long as “we’re not
fighting, otherwise he’s sleeping on the couch” (according to the lady of the
house herself). It was easy for Ayra and Ibtihaj to loosen up and fit right in
although it took some time to understand some inside jokes and, in Ibtihaj’s
case, conveniently learn to ignore certain people as long as they weren’t
talking to her.
Dinner was to be eaten by the pool and the table Anneth and Nathaniel had
pulled out of the basement store could comfortably take them all. Anneth
had covered it with black linen and she made sure every inch of space was
covered with cutlery and with well-made dishes that majorly revolved
around meat.
“Don’t blame me,” She told Ayra and Ibtihaj. “We’re meat lovers in this
house and once there’s an opportunity to prepare as much meat as possible,
Nate and I are all for it. Bon Appetite, and watch the drinks you pick. Some
of those floral bottles are actually fruit beer which we – me, Nate, Jalal, and
Tobi – love to death.”
Ayra chose to sit beside Ibrahim who’d been talking more since they
arrived, and laughing more too. Wanting to be a little freer, she removed
her jacket and draped it on the back of her chair. Ibtihaj sat on the opposite
side of the table, right beside Bella.
“Honestly,” It was Bella. She looked between Ayra and Ibtihaj. “You two
dress really well.”
Ibtihaj smiled proudly. “When you have a mum like mine, it’s impossible to
not do so. We don’t dress like you or Anneth though. You guys are the
fashionistas.”
Anneth flipped her braids over her shoulder. “Well, we do love to impress.
But Bella’s right, you two dress really prettily. And you both like to be
comfortable too. Also, I’d love to meet your mum. I’m sure she’s going to
be my kind of person.”
Ayra laughed, nodding. “She is. She’ll love you so much.”
Ibtihaj grinned. “Exactly.”

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Tobi easily opened a beer. “I’d like to meet the mums too.” He grinned at
Ibtihaj. “Let me know when I can do that. I’m sure she my kind of person
too.”
Ibtihaj calmly picked up a bottle of water, her eyes trained on the bottle
cap. “My mother doesn’t like playboys. She doesn’t like the men that prove
to the world that Yoruba men actually deserve the title Yoruba Demons.”
Every other person burst out laughing while Tobi’s jaw hit the ground.
Ibtihaj smiled sweetly at him, shrugging. “I’m not one to judge anyone’s
lifestyle but it’s the truth.”
“God,” Nathaniel said between laughs. “I really like her.”
Tobi picked his jaw off the ground. “I can be on my best behaviour. I
mean, she doesn’t have to know about my girlfriends. The world doesn’t
know much about them so…” He smiled smugly. “I think I’ll be fine.”
Ibtihaj said nothing but Ayra saw how her best friend poured the water
from the bottle into a glass with more force than necessary. It made her
laugh quietly. They began passing the dishes around after they recovered
from the laughing fit, helping themselves with one thing or the other.
“So, Ayra.” It was Jalal. He smiled at her. “This our friend right here has
been very stingy with information about you.”
Ayra glanced at Ibrahim, surprised. “Are you serious?”
Jalal nodded while Ibrahim said nothing. “Very serious. To be quite frank,
we didn’t see him settling down anytime soon because he’s so addicted to
work but lo and behold, he calls us one day and tells us there’s a woman
who now has his heart.”
Bella snorted. “I can remember how all of us were too stunned to speak.”
Anneth slapped her husband’s arm, laughing. “It was a shock.”
Ayra could only listen, amazed at all they were revealing. When she looked
at Ibrahim, she found him cutting his meat into smaller slices with a slight
rosiness on his cheeks. It went straight to her heart.
“Tell me about it.” Jalal told Anneth before turning back to Ayra. “It took
us by surprise and then we got curious, y’know? We wanted to know all
about you but Engineer Fahad here didn’t want us to. We know what we
know from snooping around your social media pages.”
“And the first thing I told him,” Tobi said, “was that you were a very
beautiful woman. Ibrahim nearly killed me.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
64

Ibrahim’s smile widened a little. “I told you to take your playboy habits
away.”
Ayra’s heart was soaring and she shared a secret glance with Ibtihaj who
clearly loved all she was hearing. Bella laughed, picking up her glass of wine.
“He was so protective of you but he eventually had to spill. Even then, he
didn’t spill much, no matter how much we tried to blackmail him. I never
thought the day would come when Ibrahim would be this whipped but here
we are.”
Ibrahim leaned back in his seat. “Go on, guys. Embarrass me.”
Anneth laughed. “Oh, we’re going to do that in the coming weeks. For
now,” She turned to Ayra. “Let’s do things the cliché way. So, Ayra, tell us
about yourself.”
Ayra’s cheeks got warmer and warmer as they all focused on her. “Where
do I even start from?”
“Anywhere.” Jalal replied with the widest smile on his face. “Don’t even
leave out a tiny detail.”
Ayra let a moment pass before she exhaled. With a small smile, she began.
“Well, you already know my name but for the sake of making it the starting
point of my story, my name is Ayra Leilani Abdulaziz. My father named me
Ayra and my mother named me Leilani because of a painting my father got
for her while she was pregnant for me. It was a painting of a little baby
sleeping comfortably in a blooming Hawaiian Leilani flower and all she
wanted was to have a girl who looked like that baby in the painting?”
“And?” Nathaniel asked, ready to melt. “Did you look like that baby?”
Blushing even more, Ayra nodded. “Yes, I did. Ummi – my mum – said my
father predicted how I was going to look. My father always tells her he told
the artist to paint a baby who looked like her but had some features of his
too. So, yeah, I ended up looking like the baby in the painting. The painting
is in their room. It’s been there ever since and it’s one of the things I love
so much in the house.”
They stared at her as though she was the full moon on a clear night, each
one of them listening to her every word. Feeling more courageous, Ayra
made herself more comfortable and continued.
“I’m an only child. It’s not like my parents didn’t want more; it’s just that
life doesn’t always go the way we want it to so they got content with having
just me and spoiling me rotten. Don’t get me wrong, they could be strict

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
65

when the time called for it.” She grinned when they laughed. “I’m Nohean
actually.”
Anneth gasped. “Like me!”
Ayra laughed, nodding. “Yes, like you. My extended family’s majorly based
there but I have uncles and aunts and cousins all around Atlantica. My early
school days were at Aomi Central before I moved to Harmony High for my
secondary education because it was closer to home and I really liked how
the classes looked. The teachers were nice too.”
Beside her, Ibrahim folded his arms. “I stayed in that Aomi Central my
whole life until I graduated and moved on to Leicester.”
Ayra smiled, acting as though she didn’t already know that. When she’d
done a background check back then, it had taken every ounce of self-
restraint to not ask her parents to move her back to Aomi Central so she
could “walk down the same hallways Ibrahim Fahad walked down”.
“I then moved to the University of Atlantica to study International
Communication,” She continued. “And I met Ibty on my very first day in
the university gardens.” She smiled at her best friend who smiled back.
“We’ve never looked back since then…And now, here we are. I’m
Ibrahim’s fiancé and I’m here with his best friends. Oh, Ibty and I are also
planning on returning for our master’s next month but be rest assured
that’s not going to stop mine and Ibrahim’s wedding.”
“So,” Jalal was literally on the edge of his seat with curiosity rolling off him
in huge waves. “When did liking Ibrahim come into the picture? Because I
refuse to believe you agreed to marry this man without liking him. I refuse
to believe it.”
Ayra rolled her lips in and knew deep in her heart that there was no way she
was going to tell them she’d spent the last seven years of her life loving
Ibrahim and knowing everything about him to the extent she now had an
encyclopaedia in her head with his name on the front cover.
“Well, well, well…” Anneth’s smile was mischievously devilish. “There’s
something you’re not telling us, Ayra. I think that’s very juicy information
you’re hiding.”
Ayra’s face was as red as the tomatoes on one of the plates on the table.
“It’s not been that long.”
Ibtihaj didn’t mean to snort but she couldn’t help it and that was all the
members of the squad needed to know that there was a lot more to the tale.
Even Ibrahim was genuinely curious.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
66

Ayra shook her head. “I’m not saying. All I can tell you is that it hasn’t been
that long since I started liking him and thankfully, we’re now engaged so we
got our happy ending.”
Bella sipped her wine, smirking a moment later. “We’re definitely coming
back to this conversation in the future.”
Ayra didn’t look forward to that, at all. Thankfully, they didn’t press and
they focused on Ibtihaj to hear about her while taking small bites of their
meals and small sips of their drinks.
“I’m actually Nigerian.” Ibtihaj began. “I’m from Lagos and until we moved
here about five years ago, I lived in Lagos from the moment I was born. I
have two older sisters, who are both married, and right now I’m enjoying
the fact that I’m the only child in the house and the fact that Ayra and I live
in the same estate so I can go disturb her whenever I want.”
They all laughed at that and she grinned.
“My dad getting a job here that paid much more than what he made in
Lagos was what brought us here to Atlantica and I got enrolled at the
university. I met Ayra on the first day and it turned out we were both
studying international communication so we bonded and now we like to act
like twin sisters, just born two days apart and from different mothers.”
Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? You guys are born two days
apart?”
Ayra nodded. “Yep. I’m older though.”
Ibtihaj rolled her eyes. “Yet you’ll be acting like mumu sometimes.”
“Ibty!”
“Did I lie?”
Anneth laughed the loudest and they all joined in. Tobi spoke when they
were calmer. “You’re Yoruba like me. That’s something worth connecting
over.”
Ibtihaj couldn’t mask her irritation. “Shey eleyi o ti ya werey bayi? (Shey this one
is not mad like this?)”
Jalal brought a hand to his chest. “Damn, has Yoruba always been so sexy?”
“Please,” Anneth said between laughs at Tobi’s stunned expression. “Can
someone translate?”
Ayra, who’d heard the phrase a lot and knew exactly what it meant, did her
best to hold her laughter. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
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Nathaniel was also laughing. “Tobi, you’ve met your match.”
“Enemies to lovers,” Bella said. “I’m all for it.”
Ibtihaj’s face scrunched up further. “Olorun ma je.”
“Oh, I know that one.” Anneth said, laughing even more. “It’s God forbid,
yeah?”
Laughing, Ayra nodded. “It is.”
Tobi composed himself. “My ego’s bruised but I’m gonna make you fall in
love with me, Ibty. I’m a nice guy and I’ll prove it to you.”
Ibtihaj smiled sweetly. “Let’s wait and see.”
It was nothing short of beautiful after that. They talked, they laughed, and
when they finished eating, they cleaned up before heading in. Ibrahim got
two bottles of water and joined Ayra on the sectional sofa in the living
room while Ibtihaj went with Anneth into one of the rooms, teaching her
some Yoruba slangs while avoiding Tobi at all costs. The others were doing
one thing or the other.
Ayra took the bottle from him with a small smile. “Thank you.”
He sat right beside her. “You good?”
She nodded immediately, her smile widening. “I am. They’re the best
people. I love them.”
“And they love you. They love Ibty too.”
She blushed adorably. “They have to love Ibty.”
“They have to love you too. You fit in nicely and that was lovely.”
“Well that makes me happy. Does it make you happy too that I fit right in?”
“What else is there to feel?”
She held his gaze, her heart doing a graceful summersault in her chest.
Ibrahim stared right back, that signature small smile on his face. Ayra
looked away first for her own sanity. “Right…”
“So, getting to know each other better comes next, right?” He asked calmly.
“Along with building how we want our future to be. There’s your
registration and documentation too.”
She nodded, looking at him once again. “Yep.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
68

“I’ll check my schedule and free it up as much as I can so we can have time
to do as much as we can throughout September. That way, we can start
putting plans in motion for the wedding in October.”
“What kind of wedding do you want?”
He put his unopened bottle on the side stool and made himself more
comfortable, folding a leg beneath him. Ayra’s eyes followed his every
move and she swallowed with little difficultly while her heart did another
flip.
“I want whatever you want, Ayra.” He replied. “I’m okay with whatever you
want.”
“That makes me nervous.”
“It shouldn’t. You’ll be calling shots. You’re going to be the queen of my
house anyways so…”
She bashfully looked away. “Stop it…”
“I’m serious though.”
She toyed with the fabric of her trousers. “I know. My heart’s just a mushy
mess.”
“I don’t think I should apologise for that. Right?”
She let out a small laugh and nodded. “You don’t need to.” She smiled at
him. “You don’t have to apologise for that at all.”
“Good.” A quiet moment passed. “There’s something I’ve been thinking of
actually.”
Her smile dimmed. “Okay…”
“Do you wanna work? Like, when you’re done with your master’s degree,
do you want to work?”
Ayra averted her gaze, putting her also unopened bottle away.
“Actually…I’ve not thought much about it.” It was the honest truth. “And
to be frank, I don’t think I want to.” She brought her gaze back to his. “I
know it’s nice to be independent but honestly, I don’t like the idea of
working. I mean, is it so bad to want a life where you’re just taken care of?”
“No.” He said immediately, not once looking away from her. “It’s not.
You’re the type of woman who deserves to be spoiled rotten, Ayra, so no,
it’s not bad for you to want a life where you’re pampered and treated like a
queen.”
Ayra could only stare at him, falling even deeper and deeper.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
69

Ibrahim’s hand moved and he placed it on hers, holding on for a moment
before pulling back. The contact had her skin burning in a way it’d never
done before and a part of her wanted him to take the hand again and hold it
until they had to leave.
“I was going to be supportive if you said you wanted to work.” He told her.
“But I was hoping you wouldn’t want to.”
“Why?” Her voice was so quiet.
“I’m not trying to say I want you to be overly dependent on me, don’t get
me wrong.” A long moment passed and she saw clearly how he tried to get
the words to come together. “The thing is, I’m already a workaholic and
I’m trying to work on it because when we get married, I can’t just sit in the
office for hours on end although there are days when that’s unavoidable.”
She nodded and he continued. “And then when the kids come along, I
don’t want a situation where we would have to rely on helps and nannies.
Also, before the kids even come into the picture, I want you to get that
queen treatment where you can live your best life and have anything you
want without having to worry about work demands or the money. I simply
want you to enjoy everything while I worry about the long demanding
hours and the hustle and bustle that come with a job. That’ll stay the same
even after the kids come. I don’t know if I’m clear enough.”
Ayra felt as though she was floating. She nodded, smiling. “You are.” God,
she loved him. “You are being very clear enough.”
“And is that okay with you?”
Okay, for Ayra, was the understatement of the century. Her smile stretched
wider. “It’s perfect.”
Ibrahim’s smile started out slowly. “Yeah?”
She nodded with no hesitation. “Yeah. I wouldn’t want anything more,
Ibrahim. It’s perfect.”
To her, December couldn’t come fast enough. She really couldn’t wait to be
officially his.
Ibrahim was smiling properly now. “Good.”
She smiled right back, hers brighter than his. “Good.”
And just like it’d been in the second living room of her home on the night
of their engagement party, time stopped existing and only that moment was
important. They stared at each other, smiling, and every butterfly in Ayra’s

LATIFAH EFUA A.
70

stomach was fluttering at double speed and she didn’t want to do anything
to stop them.
The beauty of the moment was, unfortunately, ruined when Nathaniel
threw a cushion at them. “No one but Anneth and me get to share love in
this house. Get out if you wanna get all mushy.”
Ayra’s cheeks darkened when she realised every single person was now in
the space, watching them with small smiles, smirks (in the case of Jalal,
Tobi, and Ibtihaj), and knowing looks. Ibrahim sighed, rising to his feet.
“You all are starting to annoy me.”
Jalal scoffed. “Must be nice to be in love and engaged.”
“Tell me about it.” Ibtihaj said in full agreement, her eyes on her blushing
best friend. “Must be very nice.”
Bella fake-gagged. “I cannot get used to this side of Ibrahim.”
Tobi snickered. “You better get used to it, Bella, because it’s about to get
worse. We’ve seen it happen with Nate and Anneth.”
Husband and wife gave him the middle finger while the others laughed.
Half an hour later, they were saying goodbyes and each person promised to
be in touch and hang out a lot. Tobi tried to flirt with Ibtihaj but thought
twice when she shot him a daring look. It made them all laugh again.
Ibrahim personally drove Ayra and Ibtihaj back to Plum Boulevard. As
Ibtihaj got out of the car when it stopped in front of her house, she tugged
at Ayra’s veil. “You better call me when you’re home. We have a lot to talk
about.”
Ayra knew better than to say no. “Sure.”
Ibtihaj smiled at Ibrahim. “Goodnight, Ibrahim!”
“Goodnight, Ibty.”
Minutes later, Ayra turned in front of her house’s front door to face her
fiancé. Ibrahim had his hands in his pockets and his signature small smile
on his face. She smiled right back. “I had fun tonight.”
“I did too.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I really don’t want to go
inside.”
“But we can’t stay here all night.”
“Yeah…” But she wanted them to. “We can’t.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
71

A near minute passed before he spoke. “You should head in, Ayra. I’ll text
you later.”
“Promise?”
He gave her a slight nod. “I promise.”
She smiled then. “I’ll look forward to it…Goodnight, Ibrahim.”
“Goodnight, Ayra.”
Smiling at him once more, she opened the door and headed in. Once the
door closed, she moved to the security screen and watched him stand on
the front porch for a minute longer before turning around and walking
away.
“Well, someone clearly had fun.”
Startled, Ayra turned around to find her parents wearing matching eerie
grins. Undiluted curiosity shone in their eyes and she rolled hers. “How
long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” Salama replied. “So, how did it go?”
Ayra finally let her knees buckle and with a dreamy sigh, she fell to the
ground with a lot of dramatics which had her parents laughing in no time.
Back in House 47, Ibtihaj hissed as she got out of her outfit and into a
bathrobe so she could shower.
“That werey named Tobi Enioluwa.” She hissed again. “Let me just catch
him on the streets. Ashawo like him. Nonsense and ingredients.”
On the expressway leading towards Downtown Aomi, Ibrahim drove
straight home.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
72

08
On Thursday September 24, Ayra and Ibtihaj finished classes an hour after
Asr. Glad neither of them drove, they booked a Ryde and waited. It didn’t
take long for the requested car to arrive and the best friends were more
than happy to get into the backseat, letting out tired breaths.
“Thunder is supposed to strike those people who say that master’s is easier
than bachelors.” Ibtihaj stated. “They’re mad. All of them.”
Ayra leaned her head against the cool window glass. “Tell me about it. I’m
tired.”
“Better no talk that one o. Wedding preparations begin next weekend so
you and Ibrahim should better do and wrap up this your knowing each
other stage so we can move forward and officially enter owambe season.”
Although her eyes stayed closed, Ayra smiled. “Leave me alone, Ibty.”
“You never see anything.” Ibtihaj then sighed again and stretched. Once
her arms were back down, she made herself very comfortable and shut her
eyes. “Don’t wake me up until we reach the gate of my house. I swear if
you try yourself, your fiancé will pay money just to find your body.”
Ayra chuckled. “Yes ma.”
Silence descended but it was comfortable. A minute later, Ayra opened her
eyes, leaned back in the seat, and stared at the places they leisurely drove
past. Her mind went down the usual memory lane of how the month had
been so far.
In the first week, she and Ibtihaj had returned to the University of Atlantica
to get officially documented as master’s students of the institution. It was
no way similar to the documentation they’d done at undergraduate level and
it wasn’t because there were less documents requested and all of that. It was
because Ayra was now publicly known as Ibrahim Fahad’s fiancé and she
went from being just another student to being someone that everyone
wanted to talk to and worship. Even the staff members – many of them –
were overly nice and Ibtihaj called it hypocrisy in broad daylight.
Her photos were often taken now and more than once a day someone
posted it online and it went viral. The Fahads, just like they promised, had
security measures in place for her and Ibtihaj so people knew better than to
try and get too close. That didn’t mean some people weren’t intentionally
stubborn simply because they wanted traffic on their sites and accounts.
She, Ibtihaj, and The Hexad Squad now spoke a lot and they had a group
chat on every social media platform they were on. Ayra loved it so, so much

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
73

and she looked forward to when they’d be free at the same time so they
could hang out again. The highlight of the group messages were Ibtihaj and
Tobi’s bickers and Ayra would never say it out loud but she loved how
Ibtihaj constantly gave Tobi a run for his money, bruising his ego time and
time again while everyone else laughed and told him to leave her alone
because she was clearly not interested.
Then there was her relationship was Ibrahim which was blooming
beautifully. She was more in love with him than ever, something she didn’t
think was possible with how much she’d loved him in the last seven years
of her life.
Thy hadn’t seen themselves in person since the start of the month with how
crazy their schedules had been but they’d stuck to their agreements of
getting to know each other better through texts and calls. They texted more
than they called though and Ayra did not mind it one bit.
It was so good to learn everything about him, both things she already knew
and things she had no idea of; his birthday (December 31st), him being the
only child because of his parents’ choice to have just one kid, his weight, his
height (he stood at five feet and eleven inches, having seven inches over
her), his blood group (O-positive), his genotype (AA), the places he’d
schooled at (Aomi Central, De Montfort University, and then the
University of West London), his career (starting as a student intern at Aveva
and then establishing The Hexad with the others), his lifestyle preferences
(luxury at its finest), his admirable love for greeneries (he loved forests and
getaway locations hidden between trees and vegetation), his favourite
colour (shades of brown, particularly the darker tones), his favourite meals
(he loved seafood dishes and did not have a favourite drink), and every
other thing a person could think of.
For everything she learned (both old and new), she fit herself in and painted
them as a very, very compatible couple. She told herself that those born in
July like her fit perfectly with those in December. She believed it was fate
that they were both only kids who wanted to have more than one kid in the
future. Their height difference, to her, was perfect and she would not say it
out yet but she was really looking forward to hugging him and having him
hold her whenever she wanted, as long as he was free.
She liked that they’d attended different schools (even though she thought
differently when she was younger) as it gave them things to talk about since
they had different experiences. Their blood groups were compatible as she
was AB-positive and she loved that he was AA as her genotype was AS.
Her current lifestyle wasn’t as luxurious as his but she loved it and she
looked forward to both their lives merging. She loved the sea and the

LATIFAH EFUA A.
74

beaches and she said they fit because one could always find greenery around
a beach. She loved warm tones and she knew those colours went well with
dark brown tones; just another way in which they were perfect, and she
loved seafood too. Everything about him, there was a way to fix in
something about her and she loved it with all of her heart.
And then there was the fact that she’d come to realise she was the romantic
one out of them both. It was something that thrilled her to no end and not
even Ibtihaj knew just how many plans she’d drawn up to make their
marriage as beautiful as possible.
She snapped out of her head and realised they’d gotten to the estate and
that the vehicle was close to Ibtihaj’s house. She turned to the driver and
smiled politely out of habit. “House 47 is our first stop, please.”
“Alright.”
When the car came to a stop, Ayra shoved her best friend. “Wake up and
get out.”
Ibtihaj, as expected, glared. “I don’t blame you, Ayra.” She hissed and
picked up her bag before opening the car door. “I don’t blame you at all.”
Ayra smiled nicely. “I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”
Ibtihaj got out. “It’s not like you have choice before. I meant what I said o.
You and Oga Ibrahim should do and finish abeg so that we can step in. I
already have a list of vendors.” She grinned. “I can’t wait.”
Ayra simply rolled her eyes. Minutes later, she was stepping into the foyer
of her home and fatigue properly rested on her shoulders then. The sound
of approaching footsteps reached her eyes and a moment later, Salama was
stepping into the foyer with a smile on her face.
“Hello, sweetheart.” She opened up her arms. “How was school today?”
Ayra let herself be hugged, soaking in all the warmth. “Ummi, they lied
when they said master’s is a breeze when compared to bachelors. They
really lied.”
Salama chuckled. “I told you but you didn’t want to listen.” She tightened
her embrace. “You’ll be okay, sweetheart.” She then pulled back. “Falilat
was here earlier. She told me to send her greetings.”
“Are you serious? I’ll hopefully stop by their house tomorrow and say hi.
It’s been a while.”

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Salama caressed her daughter’s cheek, smiling warmly. “Take your time,
Ayra. We all know how busy you and Ibty are. Also, you have a fiancé now
so you’re extra busy.”
Ayra rolled her eyes in a futile attempt to not blush. “Ummi, let’s not go
down this path again.”
Salama laughed. “We should…Speaking of fiancés, a certain Ibrahim Fahad
sent a present for his fiancé an hour earlier. The said present is currently in
the second living room, waiting to be opened.”
That was all it took for Ayra to step back from her mother and then start
running to the said space. Every curtain in the second living room was
pulled apart, letting natural light in, and right on the top of the coffee table
was a black wrapped rectangular box that was slightly bigger than what
she’d expected.
Dumping her tote bag on one of the sofas, Ayra took small steps towards
the coffee table and finally noticed the black envelope that sat right on the
top of the wrapped box. As though she was scared it’ll disappear if she
wasn’t careful, Ayra slowly picked the envelope up. She knew when Salama
joined her but she didn’t turn around.
She opened the envelope and pulled out the card that lay inside; a card that
held The Hexad’s logo on the front and a message from Ibrahim at the
back. The message had her smiling in no time.
‘I cleared my schedule for Saturday because the phone calls and texts are not
enough anymore and I want to see you before we step into October. As much
as I don’t want it, it’s going to be a busy month for me and the wedding plans
would be drawn up too which means you’ll also be busy.
So, let’s have dinner at The Phoenix on Saturday. I’ll have a driver come pick
you up and I hope this outfit fits. I can’t wait to see how it looks on you and I
can’t wait to see you too.
- Ibrahim.’
She read the message again before she slipped the card back in the envelope
and put it aside. Going on her knees on the rugged floor, she began to
unwrap the box. Salama snorted from behind her. “Ayra, why are you being
extra careful? You’re never patient with box wrappings.”
Ayra really tried to stop her cheeks from reddening. “Leave me alone!”
Salama laughed. “No.”
Once the wrapping paper was completely off, Ayra gasped at the signature
logo of one of Atlantica’s most luxurious female fashion brands; Lady Bee.

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Salama knelt beside her daughter, just as stunned. “Lady Bee? Wow…Open
it, Leilani.” She then laughed. “I’m even more excited than you are.”
With a racing heart and slowly bubbling excitement, Ayra reached out with
both hands and lifted the lid of the box, putting it on the space on the rug
beside her. She then slowly – and very carefully – pushed aside the
protective wrapping, revealing what sat underneath. Her stomach dipped
and her heart jumped to her throat. Salama’s eyes couldn’t get any wider.
“Oh my God…”
Staring back at both women was a complete outfit that had been
professionally folded and arranged to fit the length and width of the box.
Very much in disbelief, Ayra reached in and brought them out one after the
other.
She pulled out the apple red dress first and unfolded it, spreading it out on
the rug. It was an A-line dress – sewn out of silk crepe chiffon – with a
turtle neck, an elastic band around the waist, and the loveliest bell sleeves
she’d ever seen. Ayra fell deeper in love with Ibrahim as she ran her fingers
lightly over the fabric. She loved it; it was something she’d definitely get for
herself if she’d gone shopping, and she was yet to try it yet but she had no
doubt it’d fit. She was sure she wouldn’t even care if there were slight
adjustments that could be made. He got it for her so it was perfect. She was
going to argue it out with anyone.
“It’s beautiful.” Salama said quietly. “It’s really beautiful.”
Ayra nodded. “It is.”
“Let’s bring out what’s left.”
Ayra did not need to be told twice. She pulled out the shoes next; black
stiletto heels with pointed toes in her exact shoe size. The black veil came
out of the box next, then the black shoulder bag, and the little velvet box
that held silver earrings and a ring that were obviously expensive.
“I don’t know about you, Leilani,” Salama said. “But this is the best present
someone can give. God, he has beautiful tastes.”
“He does.” Ayra agreed. “He really does.” She then grinned. “I’m going to
try it on.”
“And I’ll be right behind you.”
They put every single thing in the box and they headed up, Salama
remembering to pick her daughter’s tote bag. Ayra changed in record time
and everything fit so perfectly with no room for any adjustments. She

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smiled at the woman reflected back at her through her mirror. Where she
sat on the loveseat, Salama was ready to melt. “You’re so beautiful.”
Ayra’s smile stretched wider. “I do take my looks from you so…”
Salama laughed. “Yes, you do…Twirl for me.”
Ayra was more than happy to do so and she laughed when Salama
dramatically acted as though she’d been shot. She then got her phone out of
her bag and fired a text to Ibtihaj, knowing it would be read immediately. A
near minute later, a video call came in from the said best friend. Laughing
again, Ayra accepted it and placed the phone on its vanity stand so Ibtihaj
could see her clearly.
Ibtihaj’s eyes widened and the spoon she held fell. “Omo!”
Unable to help it, Ayra doubled over and continued laughing while her
heart soared and the flutters in her chest and stomach continued, the feeling
never getting old.
♣
The Phoenix, a high-end restaurant in the Eastside district, occupied the
entire top floor of a high-rise commercial building. The restaurant’s interior
was a beauty to behold as it combined shades of black and gold, adding
aesthetically pleasing items that complemented every nook and cranny. The
sights of the Atlantic Ocean in the distance the panoramic windows offered
was yet another edge it had over other restaurants and it could boast of one
of the best menus and customer services in the entire country.
Ayra, feeling more beautiful than ever, smiled at the reception staff who
smiled right back. “Hi, good evening. I’m meeting up with Ibrahim Fahad.”
One of the staff members nodded, her smile widening. “He’s expecting
you. This way please.”
Ayra nodded and followed. She was led past the general restaurant area
which held tables that could comfortably take twos, threes, and fours, and
towards the private rooms. The female employee led her to the very last
room and knocked once before sliding the door open, revealing Ibrahim
who turned away from the window that had an even better view of the
ocean.
Ayra told herself to breathe and it nearly proved impossible when he smiled
at her. “Ayra.”
She swallowed with slight difficulty. “Ibrahim.”
“Come in.”

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78

Focusing on breathing in and out, Ayra complied and the door slid shut
behind her. Putting one leg in front of the other, she walked to the table
and gracefully slid into the free seat. Ibrahim did not once look away from
her neither did he stop smiling.
Ayra put her bag away and then braced her heart before facing him, taking a
minute to take him all in. He was in his signature outfit but in all black. His
curls had been trimmed but it still fit him so well, and then there were those
eyes of his that never failed to captivate hers.
He propped his elbows up and linked his fingers, resting his chin on them.
“You look ethereal, Ayra. This looks way better than I imagined when I
made the purchase.”
Ayra wondered if the room got hotter or if it was just her. She swallowed
again and did her best to play it cool. “Well, a certain man with good tastes
got it so I had to wear it well.”
He laughed very quietly. “And you’re wearing it perfectly.” He said nothing
for a moment, just staring right back at her. “But it’s beautiful. And I’m
glad I got it for you.”
Her dimples were on full display. “Thank you.”
He put his arms down, folding them. “I don’t think there’s any need for
that. I came to the horrifying realization that I’d never gotten you
something so I decided to change that. I’ll get you more moving forward.”
She wondered if she’d survive it. “Ibrahim –”
“I did tell you I was ready to treat you like royalty so let me do it. Besides, I
can comfortably afford it all so…”
Her heart had been flipping. “Well, I don’t have anything to say to that.”
He smiled once again. “Good…Let’s order drinks?”
She nodded, smiling right back. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
He pressed the button at the side, calling a waiter, and once their drink
orders had been taken – a virgin pinā colada for him and a mango mule for
her – Ibrahim and Ayra spoke about how their week had gone. Ayra did
most of the talking with a smile on her face and he listened, his entire
attention on her. They’d both been busy and they were both glad it was the
weekend.
“I’m leaving for Italy with Bella and Tobi next week Saturday actually.”
Ibrahim told her moments after their drinks arrived. “There’s this
conference where new applications are to be uncovered to the public. We

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go for such programmes from time to time. It helps us understand where
the public’s leaning towards and it also helps in getting inspiration because a
lot of people in the industry come together and there’s a lot to share.
There’s a lot to be learned too.”
Ayra didn’t mean to pout but she couldn’t help it. “How long would you be
gone?”
“About two weeks…I’m sorry. I’m going away for work when we should
be starting our wedding plans.”
She managed a small smile. “As much as I’d like you to be here with me
when the planning starts, I understand you have work and I know how
important this is to you.” She sighed. “I’ll be fine…We will talk, right?”
“You don’t even have to ask.” A minute passed and he took a few sips of
his colada before he asked “What kind of wedding do you want?”
Her smile began small but it stretched slowly into a wide grin as the
excitement bubbled. She leaned forward. “Something really unique. I don’t
want something over the top but it should be big enough and it should be
classy. What kind of wedding do you want?”
“The exact one you want.” Keeping his eyes on hers, he leaned back in his
seat. “I meant it when I said I’m okay with whatever you want, Ayra. I also
meant it when I said you’ll be the one calling the shots.”
“But the wedding should reflect equal parts of both of us.”
“And I have no doubt you’ll represent me well.” He leaned forward again,
folding his forearms on the table. His eyes appeared brighter underneath
the room’s lighting and he finished off his beautiful look with that small
smile of his. “You do know me better than anyone else at this point so I
have full faith in you, Ayra. I have full faith that you can do this, and I’ll be
right beside you every step of the way.”
Ayra could only stare at him as every part of her so badly wanted to tell him
that she loved him. She remembered Ibty’s words so she pushed the
confession back. She would tell him another day, but God she wanted to do
it in that very moment. Ibrahim stared right back at her and when he spoke,
his voice was softer.
“I want you to pick whatever you like, Ayra, and whatever you want. If you
want us to go all out, we will go all out. If we have to shut down Aomi, be
rest assured that we will do it so the world can know how lucky I am to be
marrying an amazing woman like you.”

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She smiled, blushing. “There’s no need to shut down Aomi, Ibrahim. I just
told you I want something unique and not something over the top.”
“I’m serious, Ayra. If it means bringing the world to a stop just to tell them
I’m married to you, I’ll do it, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me.”
She laughed and he smiled wider. She then exhaled softly, nodding a
moment later. “Very well, Ibrahim. I’ll make the choices for the both of us
until you return, and I’ll do my best to ensure every part of the wedding has
traces of the both of us in it.”
“I trust you.”
And I love you, she wanted to say but once again she pushed the words away
and said instead “And I trust you too.”
“And when I return, we can go check out what would be our future home.
I’m carefully picking out the furniture pieces because I want everything to
be perfect and I’m also vetting the list of interior designers because I want
to work with only the best of the best. You deserve nothing less so…”
Ayra wondered if he could see just how much she loved him as she softly
said “You’re honestly the best thing that happened to me.”
“Trust me, Ayra,” He said even more softly than she did. “I should be the
one telling you that. I know we’re going to be fine and I’m really looking
forward to the future we’ll share.”
They smiled at each other and then when he asked if they could order their
meals, she nodded with a small laugh. “Yes, please.”
An exact hour later, they both stepped into the elevator with smiles on their
faces and Ibrahim pressed the ground floor button. Once the doors shut,
he turned around and stared at her, putting his hands in the deep pockets of
his dark coat. Ayra stared back at him although all she wanted to do was
bashfully turn away under the intensity of his gaze; intensity she wasn’t sure
she was going to get used to anytime soon.
Once again the concept of time ceased to exist for them and it felt as
though even that very moment was slowly sucking them in, making
everything fade into nothingness including the mirrored walls of the
elevator they were in. Ayra felt the urge to confess again and it pressed
down on her chest as she took everything about him in; enchanted by every
little detail.
Ibrahim smiled; a smile much smaller than any of the ones he’d given her.
He took a small step forward and put his hands on the railing she leaned
against, caging her in and wrapping her in the bubble that was all him. His

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eyes did not once leave hers and as the elevator ride came to an end, he
leaned in and rested his forehead against hers.
“I hear you loud and clear, Ayra.” He said so quietly that she almost missed
it. “What else is there to feel?”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
82

09
On the first Saturday of October, the female members of the Fahad family
arrived Haven Estate as early as 8:30AM and they went straight to the
Abdulaziz home.
Salama, who was clearly not expecting them, was the one to open the door
and she barely had time to step away as Ibrahim’s aunts and older cousins
forced their way in, talking and acting as though they owned the house.
Disoriented, Salama turned to the woman closing the entourage.
Fareeda smiled brightly. “Good morning, Salama.”
“G-good morning. Fareeda, we weren’t expecting you today. You said you
were going to reach out with the final date, time, and venue for the first
meeting.”
Fareeda did not stop smiling as she reached out to pat Salama’s shoulders.
“The ladies said they wanted it this morning and there’s only so much you
can say to deter them.” She walked in, past Salama. “Impromptu meetings
are also fun, Salama, so we’ll be fine. Where’s my darling Ayra? She should
come down so I can introduce her to everyone.”
Not okay with how the morning was turning out, Salama closed the front
door, left the women to get comfortable in the main living room, and
headed back up. Muhsin rolled over on their shared bed when she opened
the door. He blinked sleepily. “Who was it?”
She walked to the nightstand and picked up her phone. “The Fahads.
Apparently, they want to have the meeting here and now.”
He sat up. “What?”
She scrolled through her contacts. “I’m quite surprised too. Fareeda said
impromptu meetings are also fun and I don’t why but it all feels off.” She
dialled her close friend’s line and brought the phone to her ear. “Can you
wake Leilani up? Please.”
He nodded, already leaving the bed. “Sure.”
As he left the room, the call connected and Salama exhaled in relief.
“Falilat, good morning. We have an issue.”
In the other room, Ayra flinched in bed when the lights were switched on.
Frowning, she raised her head and turned towards the doorway where
Muhsin stood. She sat up. “Baba?”
“Hey, sweetheart. You may want to wake up now.”
Her frown deepened while a soft throb began in her temple. “Why?”

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He walked over to the bed. “Your future family members are here and they
want to have the first meeting concerning the meeting this morning. It’s
very impromptu and it’s weird but we can’t really send them back now
so…”
She was out of the bed the very next moment and Muhsin waited until she
was inside the bathroom before he sighed and left the room. As he made
his way back to where to his and Salama’s room, he heard the women
downstairs laughing and talking, and he knew he had to freshen up and
head down to say hi to them and welcome them despite not knowing why
they were there so early.
He walked in on Salama getting changed, her face having water droplets
that were drying off.
“I called Falilat.” She told him as she adjusted the sleeve of the boubou she
now wore. “She said she’ll be here as soon as possible with Ibty. I don’t
think any of our siblings would get here quickly but we should let them
know what’s happening. Is Ayra up?”
“Yeah, she’s in the bathroom…This is very weird. It’s way unlike them to
just pull up a spontaneous meeting when they were the same ones who said
they’d get back to us regarding the venue, date, and time.”
She managed to smile at him, grabbing her veil and phone. “Well, let’s just
pray it doesn’t get worse. Please freshen up and come say hi downstairs.”
“Sure.”
She pecked his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
In the other room, Ayra was this close to panicking. She had never taken a
bath that quickly before and she had her teeth brushed in record time. As
she applied oil to her skin, her phone rang and she accepted the call
immediately, putting it in speaker mode.
“Ayra.” It was Ibty. “Mummy and I are on the way to your house. We even
took the car sef instead of trekking. I don’t understand. Which one is the
Fahads are here? This early on a Saturday morning? No be juju be dat?”
Ayra worked on the length of her legs, too in a hurry to revel in the bliss
that came with such routines. “I don’t even understand either. I’m just
getting dressed and I am so glad you’re coming.”
“We’re almost there. I’ll come up to get you immediately we arrive. That’s
okay, shey?”

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“It’s perfect, Ibty. Thank you.”
“Abeg, abeg, leave that one first. We’ll be fine.”
The call ended and Ayra moved from her dresser to her wardrobe. It was
very easy to pull out a boubou, having no idea her mother currently wore
the exact same thing, and its veil. She picked out underwear next and put
everything on. Ibtihaj arrived as she finished and the other one wasn’t
smiling.
“Me I don’t know what these people are trying to do but it doesn’t make
sense. How can you show up in someone’s house this early and be saying
you want to have meeting? Uncle Muhsin is downstairs. He’s saying hi.”
Ayra walked over to the dresser and adjusted her veil with the help of the
mirror. “Are they a lot?”
“I think so. There are quite a number of cars outside sha.”
“Are you serious?”
“Check your window now.”
Ayra did and she regretted it. Mustering courage, she plastered a smile on
her face. With a sigh, Ibtihaj linked her arm with Ayra’s and they headed
down. The main living room was filled with the Fahad women, each one
elegantly seated. Chairs from the dining room had been brought in to sit
those who didn’t get space on the sofa and Ayra smiled nervously as she
and Ibtihaj said hello.
The responses they got varied. A few women – like Fareeda – were
sincerely happy to see her and Ibtihaj. Some others pretended to be happy
with their overly fake smiles and forced laughs while the rest didn’t pretend
at all. They looked Ayra up and down, as though she was the prey and they
were vultures trying to get their first meal.
Instead of the excitement Ayra always imagined she’d feel when the
wedding preparations began, she felt discomfort and underneath that, there
was fear. There was no excitement; none at all, and it scared her.
Salama stepped into the room, smiling with the practiced warmth that came
with being a host. “Ibty, Ayra, please just find somewhere to sit.” She
turned to the others. “Does anyone else need anything? Tea? Coffee?
Water? Anything.”
Fareeda beamed, a teacup in hand. “I think we’re good. You should sit so
we can get this meeting underway. Where’s Ibty’s mum?”
Falilat stepped in. “I’m right here.”

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Space was created on one of the sofas for Salama and Falilat while Ayra and
Ibtihaj made themselves comfortable on the Persian rug that covered most
of the living room. One of the female Fahads cleared her throat, getting
their attention. She put her cup on the side stool and then crossed one leg
over the other.
“Ladies, it gives me great honour to chaperone today’s meeting. It’s very
impromptu, I know, but we have to understand that such weddings have a
lot to be planned and it’s October already. We only have this month, next
month, and a little bit of December to put everything in order so we have
to hit the ground running.”
“A heads up would have been nice.” Salama said. “We would have been
better prepared and our family would have been better represented. Right
now we’re outnumbered.”
“That’s why this is just the first meeting, Salama.” Fareeda said. “In Shaa
Allah both sides would be very much represented in the coming meetings.
This is just for us to have a timeline and to draw up the first list of things
we’ll need, vendors we’ll need to contract and things like that. Besides,
Ayra’s here and the bride to be being here is more than enough. Don’t you
agree?”
Falilat’s expression mirrored her daughter’s. They stared at the Fahads as
though they’d lost some of their senses. Salama could only smile tightly
while the chaperoning female laughed a little too lightly.
“You’re absolutely right, Fareeda.” She said. “Salama, we’ll be fine. Besides,
we’ll be family soon so these impromptu meetings are bound to happen.
Anyways, let’s get started.” She turned to Ayra. “Future Mrs Fahad, do you
have anything arranged for the wedding yet?”
Disliking the attention on her, Ayra fixed a smile on her face and shook her
head. “Not really, no. I do have some ideas of what I want and the people
I’d like to work with but I haven’t –”
Another woman, one of those who’d scrutinised her when she came down,
cut her off. “Oh for God’s sake. This is the wedding of the year and there’s
very little time. It’s a good thing we came today. Only God knows how
behind schedule we would have been had we come at an even later date.”
Ibtihaj scoffed. “Kini gbogbo radarada yi bayi? (What is all this nonsense?)”
The chaperone pulled out a notepad from her bag. “I have to agree with
you, Gigi. It’s a good thing we’re here today and it’s even better that we
already made plans ahead. Why don’t we start with the proposed wedding
planners, ladies? Then we’ll discuss décor teams and then fashion designers.

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I’ll begin. I propose we reach out to Giselle. They have been planning the
most beautiful events recently.”
Another enthusiastically nodded. “I have to agree with you. I attended one
recently and it was so lovely.”
“What about Kim Harden?” Fareeda suggested. “Her team has been really
good too.”
And as though the Abdulazizs and Adeolas did not exist in the same space
with them, the Fahads went on to discuss what planner was best for the
wedding. Ayra, for the first time, felt dumb; as though she no longer had a
voice. Each name the Fahads mentioned was more elegant than the last and
she’d seen the works of every individual or company suggested. Luxuriously
elegant was an understatement in describing those events. They all cost
more money than she could imagine and she felt so out of place as she’d
honestly wanted her mother – Salama – to handle the event planning with
the companies she (Salama) was affiliated with.
The current scenario playing out was the direct opposite of what she’d
expected, especially after Ibrahim told her she would be the one calling the
shots; the same night he’d indirectly told her he loved her too. She bit the
inside of her cheek, feeling the tears coming as she watched – in a
somewhat out of body experience – as the Fahads went on and on, laughing
between suggestions.
Where she sat, Salama quietly seethed and when it got too much, she threw
her politeness aside and cut in. “Excuse. Me.”
Every conversation ceased and they all faced her. She sat with her left leg
crossed over her right while her clasped hands rested on her knees. Her
back as a straight as a rod and her veil slipped back little by little, exposing
the flat twists underneath.
“A wedding,” She began. “Is a union between two families and I am sure
we know that already. In this case, your family and ours are coming
together as one and that means that both sides should have a say in every
single matter.”
“But you will have a say, Salama.” Fareeda said. “We were just making
suggestions.”
“It didn’t sound like suggestions.” Salama told the other woman. “It sounds
as if you all already know what you want and we have to follow suit.”
“We were going to give you the chance to make your own suggestions.”
The chaperone stated.

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“Yet you didn’t allow Ayra finish talking when she said she has some ideas
and some people she’d want to work with.” Falilat shot back. “Like Salama
said, it’s like you already knew what you wanted.”
“It’s the wedding of the year.” One of the Fahads said. “Do you think it’s
that easy to marry Ibrahim Fahad? Do you know how many women would
die to be in your daughter’s shoes?”
Salama raised a brow. “Excuse me?”
Fareeda, clearly uncomfortable, shifted forward on the sofa she occupied.
“Uhm, ladies, why don’t we –?”
“I don’t understand.” Falilat began, frowning. “What do you mean by that
statement? Which one is do we know how many women would die to be in
Ayra’s shoes? Sho wa alright ni? What does that mean?”
Fareeda tried again. “Ladies, let’s –”
“Do you think you are doing us a favour?” Falilat asked, ignoring Fareeda.
“You were the ones who brought a wedding proposal and Ayra accepted
when she could have rejected it. Now a wedding date is fixed and according
to what Ayra told us, Ibrahim told her she’ll be the one calling the shots.
We all said we’ll start planning in October and you were supposed to tell us
the date, time, and venue for the meeting yet you show up here at an
ungodly hour on a Saturday morning, with a list of already picked out
vendors and you’re opening your mouth to ask whether we know how
many women would die to be in Ayra’s shoes. Wó, don’t vex me o. Kini
gbogbo radarada yi bayi? What’s all this this early morning?”
“Ladies!” Fareeda finally said. “Why don’t we take a moment to –?”
“Is this the family Ibrahim’s marrying into, Fareeda?” Another Fahad asked.
“Because we can honestly do better.”
Ayra wanted nothing more than for the ground to open and swallow her
up. It felt like a slap to the face and the momentary silence that followed
was loud. Ibtihaj was too stunned to even do or say anything else.
Fareeda turned to the woman who’d spoken with wide eyes. “Sabeeha, why
on earth would you –?”
Salama rose to her feet. “I think this meeting is clearly a joke and a big
mistake. I want you all out of my house, now.”
Fareeda stood too. “Salama –”
Salama held up a hand. “No, Fareeda. In all the years we’ve known each
other, I’ve looked up to you as a wonderful friend and recently I’ve been

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looking forward to having you as an in-law. However, right now it feels as
though I’ve known just one side of you and now I’m seeing another side
and I do not like it one bit. I am not about to allow your family come in
with no prior notice, trample on my daughter, and then speak ill of my
family. I think we should reconsider this whole engagement and until we
decide what we want to do, everything can go to hell for all I care.”
Fareeda was way too pale. “Salama –”
“I want you all to leave. Now!”
Ibtihaj stood and pulled her best friend up. “Ayra, come on. Let’s not stay
here abeg. What nonsense!”
Ayra let herself be led up, flinching at the voices that grew louder and
louder. They met Muhsin at the top of the stairs and he frowned at the tears
in her eyes. “Ayra?”
“Uncle Muhsin, I think you should go down o. Because my mother, Aunt
Salama, and me will soon beat somebody.” Ibtihaj told him. “But don’t
worry, I’ll take care of Ayra.”
He was heading down a moment later while Ibtihaj led Ayra to the room.
Ayra moved to the loveseat and sat while Ibtihaj closed the door and let the
rage consume her.
“Are these people mad?! Ayra, are you sure we’re not going to reconsider all
this? This one is the height of disrespect o. What nonsense! See how they
were even judging when you and I went down. God forbid.”
Crumbling inside, Ayra buried her face in her hands and focused on
breathing in and out just so she didn’t burst into tears. Ibtihaj was now
pacing, getting even angrier.
“And then Ibrahim’s mother! Omo, she seemed like a different person
today compared to how sweet she was when we visited their mansion. I
mean, we’ve always known they’re on a different level than us but so far
they didn’t rub it in our faces so we assumed all was well. Hah, we should
have kept our minds open because this morning’s disrespect is too much.
You of all people don’t deserve that, Ayra, and honestly it doesn’t matter
whether or not you love Ibrahim very much because God forbid we allow
you marry into a family that would only look down at you. God forbid it.”
Ayra raised her head when her phone rang, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Ibtihaj’s anger immediately disappeared and her chest squeezed. “Ayra…”
“Can you please help me with my phone?”

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“Sure.” Ibtihaj walked over to the bed and picked up the ringing phone
before she walked back to the loveseat. “It’s Ibrahim.”
Ayra sniffled and breathed in and out before she plastered a smile on her
face and accepted the call. “Ibrahim, hi!”
“Ayra.” His voice had an edge she wasn’t used to and it made her stomach
drop. “I heard my family’s over at your place right now. Is that true?”
She relaxed a little, holding onto the hope that the edge in his voice wasn’t
directed at her. “Yes, it is.”
“Did you all know they were coming?”
“No, we didn’t. Baba literally woke me up from sleep and we had to call
Aunt Falilat and Ibty over.”
“Is my mother there with them?”
“Yes. Ibty and I left them downstairs though. Things got a little out of
hand.”
Ibtihaj scoffed. “A little keh?” She ignored Ayra’s look of slight panic.
“What? He should know. You heard your mother, Ayra. This entire
engagement is going to be reconsidered and I am all for it. The see-finish is
too much abeg.”
“I’m on my way there.” Ibrahim told Ayra over the phone. “I told Bella and
Tobi to go ahead without me. I’ll catch up with them in Milan.”
Ayra’s heart did its usual flip. “Ibrahim, you don’t –”
“I’m already at your estate gate, Ayra. It’s fine. I’ll leave with enough time to
meet up with the opening of the conference. You’re most important right
now. I’ll be fine.”
That was all it took for her to start crying. Ibtihaj sighed and sat beside her,
pulling her into a side hug while Ibrahim promised to be there soon before
he hung up. Ibtihaj sighed again. “It’ll be alright. They’re just mad.”
Ayra held onto those words for dear life. It didn’t long for them to hear the
gates go open through the open windows and then a car door went open
and slammed shut a moment later. The best friends didn’t move from the
sofa until the voices downstairs got a little louder.
Ayra pulled away from Ibtihaj and stood. “Come on, let’s go down.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, smiling a little. “I am.”

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They held each other’s hand as they left the room and headed down, clearly
hearing what was being said with every step they took forward.
“…Ayra and I are the ones getting married, not any of you, and you have
no right to try to plan our wedding from scratch when you hardly know
what we like. You have no right to be here with no prior notice in the first
place!”
“Ibrahim,” It was Fareeda. “You should calm down.”
Ibtihaj and Ayra reached the doorway of the living room and the latter
could barely recognise her fiancé. Ibrahim was livid and it was as clear as
day as he faced his mother.
“Mum, you of all people shouldn’t have tolerated this. If every other
member of the family wanted to move stupidly, you shouldn’t have
tolerated it. I called Dad to let him know I was heading to Raven Isle, only
to hear that you led the family here without any prior notice.”
“They didn’t give me a choice. What was I supposed to say? No?”
“Are you a child, Mum, that they can toss around? Even if you didn’t want
to say no, couldn’t you call Ayra and her parents and tell them you wanted
to come over? What sort of nonsense is that?”
“Ibrahim –”
He stepped back, bringing a hand up to massage his temple. He sighed. “I
want everyone from our family gone except you, Mum. And you can be rest
assured that this is the last time they’ll be part of a meeting that involves my
wedding to Ayra.”
It was chaos after that but he wasn’t having it. When he repeated himself,
his voice was icily cold and the women reluctantly began picking up their
stuff. Ayra and Ibtihaj stepped aside for them to pass through and they
made sure to voice out their disapprovals, making Ayra want to shrink into
herself even more. When the last one was out, Fareeda gave her son a look
of clear disapproval.
“You’re going to cause a rift, Ibrahim. You can’t exclude them when they’re
family and you know they only want the best for this wedding.”
“And Ayra’s about to be my family so you should know I’d do anything to
protect her. You of all people should know that and I am so confused and
hurt because you’re acting like someone else.”
“Ibrahim!”

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He turned away from her, towards Salama, Muhsin and Falilat. “I am very
sorry this happened. If I had any idea of this meeting, I would have done
everything to stop it.”
“It’s fine, Ibrahim.” Salama told him. “We just all need to let off some
steam and decide what we want to do moving forward. I meant what I said
earlier. There are a lot of things to think about moving forward with all that
happened this morning. Ayra means the world to me and I’m not going to
let her go into a family that has sides we haven’t seen before.”
It was the first time Ayra saw what resembled panic on Ibrahim’s face and it
squeezed her chest to the point of pain.
“We’ll sort things out, I promise.” Ibrahim said, his words unusually
rushed. “I can assure you this won’t happen again so please don’t –” He
blew out a breath when his voice cracked slightly. “Please don’t call off the
engagement. I promise this isn’t going to repeat itself and if Ayra and I have
to be the ones to plan the whole thing from scratch with the help of your
friends, we’ll do it. Just, please don’t call this off.”
Falilat crossed her arms and looked away. “Eleyii ni opolo (At least this one
has sense).”
Salama opened her mouth but Muhsin squeezed her hand which was in his.
“Let Ayra decide. She’s the main character in all of this.”
Ibrahim was the first to turn in her direction and it was the first time Ayra
saw his eyes as an open book, revealing his mix of fear and desperation. She
turned from him to Fareeda who offered a small smile that Ayra couldn’t
bring herself to return. She then turned to Falilat who nodded slightly, her
way of saying Ayra could go ahead with whatever choice. Ayra then looked
at her parents. Salama was still mad but like Falilat, she was going to
support Ayra’s decision. Muhsin was calmer and supportive too.
Ayra then turned to her best friend who did not care that Ibrahim and his
mother were in the room. “Omo, it’s up to you o but if they do anyhow, I
will carry them to Third Mainland Bridge and throw them into the sea.”
Ayra didn’t want to laugh but Ibtihaj made it so hard. Feeling better, she
turned back to Ibrahim. “I don’t think there’s any need to call off the
engagement or postpone anything. I think we should wait until Ibrahim
returns from Italy to have these meetings and I suggest we have them in
smaller groups and in restaurants or cafes and not in our homes. That way,
we can pick out those who we want to be there and then they can
disseminate the decisions made to the others.”

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Salama nodded slowly. “That’s fine by me.” She turned to Fareeda. “I still
think you, Muhsin, Salim, and I need to talk. Al-Amin and Falilat will be
there too, because there’s a lot we’re not going to take and I am not going
to sit back should this repeat itself.”
Fareeda nodded, her smile tight. “I understand.”
Ibrahim exhaled, looking very relieved. “Thank you.” He said that to Ayra
and then repeated it to every other person in in the room. “I’m really
grateful.”
“Come and be going to Italy, my dear.” Ibtihaj told him. “Thank you for
standing up for my best friend. At least her long-time love is not in vain.”
Ayra’s eyes widened. “Ibty!”
Ibtihaj, who had not thought much before speaking, smiled sheepishly. “I
don die. Sorry abeg.”
Their parents – Salama, Muhsin, and Falilat – chuckled while Fareeda said
she and Ibrahim had to be on their way. Ayra walked her fiancé out and
took a double look at the car he’d come with; a Miami Blue Porsche 718
Cayman. She looked at him and he looked away, smiling like a kid caught
stealing candy.
“I like my cars, Ayra.” He sighed and turned back to her. “Thank you, for
not deciding to end the engagement.”
As though she could do that when she dreamt about him and her as
husband and wife for years. She gave him a small smile. “It’s alright.”
“And I’m sorry, for everything that happened since you woke up and for
everything they said. We’ll sort it out on our end and I’ll draw clear
boundaries. I promise.”
Her smile widened. “Thank you, Ibrahim, for coming back for my sake.”
“You’re about to be my wife, Ayra, so you’re coming first before a lot of
things. This was the least I could do.” He then smiled smugly. “You really
do love me, huh?”
She blushed and then she rolled her eyes. “I should hit Ibty’s mouth.” She
then sighed. “I do. I do love you…And I hope you hope you feel the same
way or else I’d never show my face again.”
He chuckled, leaning in. “Come on, Ayra,” Discreetly, as their parents were
watching, his hand brushed hers and left fire burning on the very spot he’d
touched while her heart threatened to give up on her. His eyes did not once
leave hers. “What else is there to feel?”

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10
After Ibrahim and Fareeda left, they – Salama, Muhsin, Falilat, Ibtihaj, and
Ayra – returned into the house. They cleaned up the living room in silence
and then washed all the used cups, coasters, and teas kettles. Once
everything was back in its usual position, they helped themselves with tea –
and hot chocolate for some – and toasts and then made their way to the
dining room.
“I know we should probably move on from what happened earlier,” Ibtihaj
said slowly. “But it’s been bothering me. Ibrahim’s mother was like a
different person. It was very different from the woman who invited us for
dinner when Ayra and Ibrahim’s wedding date was fixed. I don’t know if
it’s just me.”
Salama shook her head, her hands wrapped around her warm mug. “It’s not
just you. She nearly felt like a stranger earlier and I’ve been thinking about it
too…But then again, this is the first time we’re actually sitting down to
make decisions that involve both families. In the years Muhsin and I have
known her and Salim, our discussions revolved around business and then
the usual small talk. So we’ve been on cordial terms all these years and I
used that to assure myself that Ayra was going to be fine. Now though…”
Falilat scoffed. “Abeg let’s not even talk about it. My own happiness comes
from the fact that Ibrahim can stand up to her for Ayra’s sake. Because if
he was a mummy’s boy, na for that parlour I for cancel the wedding. Can
you imagine the disrespect?!”
Ayra simply sipped her hot chocolate, choosing to stay quiet while her heart
weighed heavily in her chest as the gravity of the morning’s events dawned
on her. She’d almost had her engagement to Ibrahim cancelled; her dream
of being Mrs Fahad had been this close to going back to what it’d always
been – a dream.
“We already said we’d have a meeting with Salim and Fareeda so let’s all
relax.” Muhsin said, as calm as ever. “We’ll draw the boundaries and state
clearly the things we won’t tolerate moving forward. I have no doubt
Ibrahim would do the same on his end. Ayra has agreed to let the
engagement stay and so we’ll be pushing forward with the wedding. Let’s
focus on supporting her and Ibrahim, no matter the choice they make. At
the end of the day they’re the ones getting married so…”
Salama, whose expression was so much softer, faced her daughter and
offered a small smile. “I’m really sorry, Leilani. They shouldn’t have
trampled on you like that.”

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Ayra smiled back. “It’s fine, Ummi. To be frank, I’m a little glad it
happened. Yes, it was painful to watch them act the way they did and to
listen to the things they said, but I’m slowly seeing that sometimes life
won’t work the way it does in my head. I dreamt of every single person
loving me and this morning’s event has taught me that maybe I should have
kept my mind open. That way it wouldn’t hurt this much.”
Falilat got annoyed all over again. She hissed, lowering her mug with a little
more force than what was needed. “They’re mad. Gbogbo won ti ya werey (All
of them are mad).” She hissed again while the others tried unsuccessfully to
hide their smiles. “Instead of them to be grateful that Ayra accepted their
proposal, they’re opening their dirty mouths waaa to say rubbish. Many
women are dying to be in Ayra’s shoes. They should die na! Is it because
they have money? Do they know how many men would die to be chosen by
Ayra and Ibty? They’re mad!”
This time it was hard for all of them to keep their laughter in and the scene
– when they all burst out laughing – was a beautiful sight to behold. They’d
never know that in reply to what Falilat said, Ayra said in her head “I don’t
care about the men who’d want to die at my feet, as long as they’re not Ibrahim then they
don’t matter”.
The atmosphere stayed light until they finished eating and although Ibtihaj
wanted to stay back with Ayra, she and Falilat had to go to the market to
stock up on food supplies. Ayra assured her friend that she’ll be fine and
hugged her goodbye. She promised to keep Ibtihaj posted if anything came
up. After assuring her parents that she was fine and just tired, she headed
up to her room and locked the door.
The silence was welcoming and she revelled in it. She tossed her veil on the
dresser stool and then she got in bed, lying on her back so she could stare at
the ceiling above her and thank Allah for not letting things escalate to the
extent of immediate cancellation of the upcoming wedding and the
engagement. As she thought about Ibrahim and how he’d turned back on
his way to the airport, she smiled slowly and warmth rose up to her cheeks.
She then rolled over and smiled even wider, recalling how he’d stood up to
the members of his family including his mother, and then his last words to
her; “What else is there to feel?”
She loved the words and she loved the way he said them even more. To
her, it meant more than the usual “I love you too”. Then there was the way
her body came alive each time he touched her. She rolled back to lie on her
back and then she raised her hand up, staring at the exact spot where his
hand had brushed hers.

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She pushed away the doubt that began creeping in. “It’s not like we’re
doing anything wrong.” She said quietly. “They’re just simple touches and
In Shaa Allah we’ll be married soon. It’s not a big deal.”
Sighing, she let the hand drop and she stared at the ceiling until her phone
beeped. It was easy to roll over and pick the device up. Once it was
unlocked, she clicked on the new messages and it took her straight to one
of the groups the Hexad squad had created for them, her, and Ibtihaj. Like
always, Ayra’s smile started out slowly and it didn’t stop widening until it
was a full blown grin.
Anneth: Yo, I heard what happened and I’m so sorry, Ayra. You too,
Ibty.
Anneth: You know what? Why don’t we show these people that we
can plan a wedding ourselves? We’ve done it before (for me and my
lovely husband) and we can surely do it again. We don’t need them.
We’ve gotten the important people (Ibrahim and Ayra) and that’s all
that matters. Everyone else can buzz off.
Anneth: So, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Anneth Samson and
I’m the official wedding planner. Who’s in?
The replies began coming in immediately and Ayra felt warmth bloom in
her chest.
Bella: You don’t even have to ask. Just let us return from Italy. Aomi
won’t know what hit them.

Jalal: A chance to plan the wedding of the year? Count me in!

Tobi: You don’t even have to ask, Anneth. We’re all in. Also, I get to
see Ibty so…

Ibty: I’m in, Anneth! This is the best news!
Ibty: Oluwatobiloba Enioluwa, please avoid me. Please!
Unable to help it, Ayra laughed, and then she started typing. A message
dropped before she hit send and her heart did another of its usual flips.
Ibrahim: You guys are honestly the best.
Smiling, she retyped her message and then clicked send.
Ayra: I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Thank you so much,
guys. I love you, all of you.

Anneth: We love you too. Ladies and gents, let’s get this party
started!

LATIFAH EFUA A.
96

♣
On Monday morning, an hour after Ayra and Ibtihaj left for school, Salama
and Muhsin went with Al-Amin and Falilat to meet with the Fahads. It was
the first time in a while that their mansion was bustling with people and just
like it’d been on Saturday morning, the Abdulazizs and Adeolas were clearly
outnumbered but they didn’t mind.
They made it clear, to Salim and Fareeda, that just because both families
had been on good terms for years didn’t mean they – the Abdulazizs –
would sit back and watch their daughter get disrespected or trampled over.
They agreed to the fact that the Fahads were way wealthier than they were
but they reminded them that Ayra didn’t agree to marry Ibrahim because
she wanted his money as they – Muhsin and Salama – had raised her quite
comfortably and were more than happy to keep doing so if they saw any
more need to cancel the engagement.
Ayra was the main character of the wedding, as well as Ibrahim, and they
were not going to allow anyone force their opinions on them or disrespect
them the way it was done on Saturday morning.
Salim apologised over and over while the females present – from his family
– muttered under their breaths. They knew better than to say it to the faces
of Salama, Falilat, Muhsin, and Al-Amin; especially with how badly it itched
Falilat to get into a fight with little regards for the consequences that might
follow. Fareeda apologised too and by the time goodbyes were being said,
both families were majorly on good terms again. However, there were still
some reservations that the bride-to-be’s side prayed did not turn into
something else.
That same evening, Salim and Fareeda called Ayra to personally apologise
and also to promise that the journey to the wedding was going to be as
smooth as possible. They even sent a flower bouquet and a box of
chocolate which Ayra was happy to receive. She assured them that there
was no problem while Ibtihaj quietly promised to raise hell if the Fahads
tried anything funny.
In the days that followed, Ayra and Ibtihaj focused on their classes and
assignments as well as on the groups they had with the other members of
the Hexad squad where Anneth dropped wedding inspirations she’d come
across on all the social media platforms. Whenever she was alone, Ayra
went through the ideas over and over again, coming up with a clearer
picture of what she wanted. Each time she imagined how it’d go, she smiled
brightly and there were times when she buried her face in her hands to
muffle her giggles. She honestly couldn’t wait for December.

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The day after Ibrahim, Bella, and Tobi returned from Italy, they all met at
The Waffle Rail; a cosy café in the Business and Institutional Area which
had the best waffles and perfect coffee alongside a wide range breakfast
options. They were all dressed casually yet nicely and Ayra was over the
moon to see Ibrahim in person again.
Bella faked a gag. “You two are too cute. It makes me sick.”
Nathaniel scoffed. “This could be you and your lover but you two love
playing hide and seek.”
The others laughed while she glared. Feeling a little courageous, Ayra asked
“Will we get to meet him someday, Bella?”
Bella’s cheeks stained with colour and she looked away, clearly bashful.
“Maybe. He’s a little shy but I’m sure we’ll work something out.” She then
sighed. “For now he’s out of the country. We met him in Italy.”
Tobi snickered. “And he kept you very busy.”
“Tobi, I will hit you.”
Ibrahim rolled his eyes. “Let’s get started, please.” He then smiled at Ayra.
“You’ll meet him one day. Let’s just not force it for now. Like Bella said,
he’s really shy. It took him a while to meet us so…”
Nodding, Ayra let it go. On the other side of the table, Ibtihaj was so
focused on taking the perfect shot of her waffles and the ice-cream scoops
with caramel drizzle that she’d momentarily tuned them out. Ayra had no
doubt she’d see the post on Instagram later and like every other post of her
best friend, she looked forward to it. Anneth got their attention once she
was done ogling at her husband and then she pulled out the biggest notepad
Ayra had ever seen.
“So,” Anneth said with a blinding grin. “Let’s get started.”
Each person was really invested and it warmed Ayra’s heart. Soon enough
the table had a lot of papers which consisted of venue decors, fashion
samples, colour palettes, venue recommendations, summarised planner
portfolios, wedding mood boards and so on. They let Ayra voice out her
ideas and then they went through the inspirations they had to see what
worked and what didn’t. They even had to open Pinterest.
“The floral arches can work at the entrance of whatever venue we choose.”
Bella suggested a little later. “Then we can have this suspended floral ceiling
in the main venue itself. An outdoor wedding is pretty, no doubt about that,
but I think a hall would do more justice to the image we’re having.”

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Ayra nodded slowly. “I’m leaning towards the hall idea too. Oh, and I love
the idea of the floral arches. I’m sure they’ll look beautiful.”
Bella flipped her hair, proud of herself. “You’re welcome.”
“We should get a planner settled and then pick a décor company.” Jalal
suggested, his third cup of coffee in hand. “That way we can share these
ideas with them and get professional advice.”
Anneth turned to Ayra. “Do you have anyone in mind, love?”
Ayra nodded, feeling nervous. She hoped they didn’t react the way the
Fahads did the other day. She swallowed slightly. “I haven’t mentioned it
yet but my mum’s an event planner.”
“And she’s really good at what she does.” Ibtihaj added proudly.
Anneth’s jaw was on the floor. “And you’ve been allowing us rack our
heads all this time?!”
Ayra shifted on her seat. “Well…” She sighed. “I don’t have any excuse.
I’ve been nervous about bringing it up. I’ve always wanted to have my mum
plan my event and she hasn’t said anything about it because I know she
wants me to make my own choice even if it’s not her but I’d really love her
to be the one to plan it. She’s really good and she’s trained a lot of people
too; people who are now doing well on their own.”
“Please name one of them.” Tobi asked, a puppy expression on his face.
“I’m awed.”
Ayra smiled nicely. “She was the one who trained Iris McCathy. I’m not
sure if you –”
Their eyes widened as Jalal cut her off, pushing his chair back so he could
stand. “Iris McCathy literally brought my cousin’s wedding to life and we
were all there so we know how good she is. If your mother actually trained
that woman, then we should be at your house right now, kissing her feet.
Your mother is more than good, Ayra, and I’m so going to kill you for
keeping this information to yourself.”
Ayra laughed, unable to help it. When she looked at Ibrahim, her breath
hitched at the sight of him already staring at her as though she’d hung his
name on the moon. Anneth clapped her hands, startling Ayra.
“Please, no sharing of love here.” Like Jalal, Anneth was now on her feet.
“We have Mrs Abdulaziz to plan with so up, up! Let’s be on our way.”
Ibtihaj was more than happy to lead the way out. Ayra rode with Ibrahim
and although the ride was quiet, she didn’t mind. They were entering Plum

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Boulevard when he asked if the squad planning their wedding was better
than how she imagined the planning process would go had their families
still pushed through to be involved. She nodded, turning to look at him.
“It’s so much better, Ibrahim.”
He glanced her way, turning back to the road almost immediately. His smile
started out slow. “I’m glad.”
Salama was the one who opened the front door when they got there and
she blinked repeatedly, taken aback. Jalal, who stood at the very front of the
small group, grinned. “Hello, Mrs Abdulaziz. My name is Jalal Ahmad.
Ma’am, do permit me to say I’m your biggest fan.”
Anneth pushed him away, gladly taking Salama’s hands in hers. Her smile
was, as always, bright. “And I’m your assistant wedding planner. Anneth
Samson at your service, ma’am.”
Salama caught up quickly and then she laughed, looking so much like her
daughter. With a smile and a small nod, she stepped aside. “Come on in.
The earlier we can get started, the better.”
They didn’t need to be told twice. Ayra was the last one in and Salama’s
smile softened at the sight of her daughter. “Hello, Leilani.”
Ayra smiled back; beautifully bashful and so, so grateful. “Hi.”
♣
It took Salama exactly twenty-four hours to take the ideas they had and
whip it into a concrete plan that covered every single detail from inception
to execution, even the ones they’d missed. Anneth gushed on about how
good Salama was and later that night – when they were on all on a video
call – Ayra explained why Salama wasn’t such a big name in the event
industry.
“She’s always wanted to be a stay-at-home mum, or at least that’s what she
told me. It actually started by accident when she met Baba. A neighbour at
their house then had a party and the planner had ditched so she was
distraught. Ummi stepped in and saved the day and that neighbour went on
to recommend her to so many people. She said it got overwhelming after
she had me so she stuck to the little events and realised she actually didn’t
mind training others. So, she got trained herself and then went on to get
registered to train others who were interested. She’s never looked back
since then.”
She smiled fondly. “She’s really content when she’s teaching others and she
loves it when they go out to do well. I always tell her she can become a big

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shot but Ummi’s never really liked a lot of attention so she’s happy like
this.”
Jalal looked ready to melt. “Prepare to have me in your house every day,
Ayra. Your mum’s amazing.”
“Me too.” Anneth said. “Prepare to have me too.”
Nathaniel sighed. “Babe, you can’t be leaving me home alone for too long.”
“Better get used to it.” Bella said before Anneth could. “This wedding is
more important than you.”
They all laughed when Nathaniel pretended to collapse in pain. Tobi then
smirked. “While Ayra’s house is beautiful, I learned Ibty stays some houses
away so be prepared to have me over one of these days, Ibty. I’m sure your
mum would love me.”
Ibtihaj, who’d been smiling, sighed tiredly. “Is it too early for me to start
praying for thunder to begin doing press-ups in heaven?”
They all ended up laughing again and it wasn’t long before they started
saying goodbyes. Ayra smiled shyly when she and Ibrahim were the only
ones left. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. There are back to back meetings
and since Bella’s now fully on wedding planning duty, I have to take up
most of the workload. Next tomorrow In Shaa Allah.”
“In Shaa Allah.”
“You should get some rest, Ayra. You have classes tomorrow.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
He chuckled. “I won’t…Goodnight, Ayra.”
There were even more butterflies in her stomach. “Goodnight.” She
swallowed with very little difficulty. “And I love you.”
His smile was lethally dashing. “Right back at you, sweetheart. What else is
there to feel?”

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11
By the end of October, the wedding plans were fully underway and even the
ever unsatisfied members of the Fahad family had to admit that although
the wedding was not going to be as big as they wanted, it was still good.
Ayra, with the support of Ibrahim, wanted a simple wedding with just three
programmes; the henna party for her and the ladies, the Nikkah, and then
the reception which would be the highlight of everything. She wanted both
the henna party and Nikkah at her family’s house there in Haven Estate so
it took time to decide where they wanted the reception to be.
After a lot of deliberation, and subtle jabs from the Fahad women, the main
hall of the Aomi International Conference Centre was booked; a large space
that could comfortably sit six hundred guests banquet style and take a
thousand people conference style. Ayra knew they weren’t going to have
that much people in attendance despite the popularity of the Fahads so it
bothered her that they’d have too much space. Salama assured her daughter
that it was better to have enough space to fill with décor than to have very
little. Ayra calmed down after that.
Iris and another event décor professional, Kim Harden (suggested by
Fareeda), were to work with Salama to bring the plans to life. Once that was
settled, Ayra, Ibtihaj, Ibrahim, and the others got started on picking out the
other vendors. When they weren’t working or in school – in the case of
Ayra and Ibtihaj – they met in restaurants, cafes, and even in Anneth and
Nathaniel’s home to go over lists and suggestions, narrowing down options.
They pulled up the first guest list too.
In the first week of November, they had their final list and they had the IVs
settled before they got started on reaching out to the other vendors that had
been picked. The families vetted the guest list, adding names and removing
others. The fashion designers were the tricky part because Ayra wanted to
be simple but she knew she also had to be elegant for all three events and
she didn’t want a situation where someone would outshine her. Then there
was a part of her that wanted the Fahads to approve too.
So instead of allowing Falilat take care of all her dresses, just like she and
Ibtihaj had always planned, Ayra split it between Falilat and a bridal styling
company in Monwict; The Styling Emporium. For her first consultation there,
she went with Ibtihaj, Bella, and Anneth, and the staff members were very
nice and also very professional. She told them she wanted something simple
yet elegant and they provided samples that she immediately fell in love with.
By combining designs, they came up with a rough sketch for her that she
was happy to say yes to and then they drew up the budget as well as the

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timeline they’d have for material sourcing, sewing, fittings and adjustments,
and then the delivery of the final product. Still not used to using her fiancé’s
card which Ibrahim had sent over weeks back, Ayra shyly made a deposit
and the head stylist promised they’d get started as soon as possible.
Ibtihaj was on cloud nine. “Normally, I would be telling you to take your
materials back to my mother but this is good. I approve.” Her smile then
vanished. “But if the final product is not worth the thousands we just paid,
thunder will strike them.”
Ayra laughed. “Ibty, please!”
“I don talk my own.”
Bella and Anneth could only laugh alongside Ayra. With time on their
hands, they decided to get lunch at a nearby restaurant. Ibrahim called just
as their orders were taken and Ayra didn’t know why she did it but she
excused herself to take the call. She ended up on the restaurant’s terrace
which gave a beautiful view of the high class district, her phone by her ear.
“Ibrahim.”
“Leilani.”
Her eyes widened to the size of saucers while her heart turned to mush.
He’d never called her by her middle name and now all she wanted was for
him to forget her name was Ayra and call her Leilani for the rest of their
lives. It’d never sounded so beautiful and that was saying a lot because
Salama pronounced the name exquisitely.
“Did I pronounce it perfectly?” Ibrahim asked when she was quiet for a
near minute. “I’ve been practicing.”
Ayra forced herself to keep breathing. She grabbed the railing with her free
hand. “You pronounced it perfectly. It took me by surprise.”
“Well, you can look forward to me calling you Leilani from time to
time…You got the deposit made for your dresses.”
She took the conversation steer with widely opened arms. “I did. They’re
really good and I have no doubt I’ll love them. If they disappoint, Ibty’s
ready to be a firecracker.”
That made him laugh. “I have no doubt about it. I’ll kill them too…Where
are you?”
“At Gerald’s. We stopped by to have lunch since we have free time. Where
are you?”

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“I’m heading towards my fashion designer’s place to get my measurements
taken. That’s why I called actually. I wanted you to let me know what you’d
love me to wear and in the colours you want.”
The cool breeze did nothing to her warm cheeks. Her smile was small and
her dimples deep while her heart, as usual, was frenetic. Her butterflies were
a whole different story. “Anything I want…?”
“Yes, Ayra, anything you want. I don’t think you want me in a turtleneck on
our wedding day. It’ll never see the end of day if the pictures surface.”
She laughed. “True. Don’t you dare think of wearing a turtleneck for our
wedding, Ibrahim. I’ll vehemently deny you.”
“That’s why I want you to pick out what I should wear. You know best
what’ll suit me and what would complement all your outfits so…”
Her heart was soaring with golden wings. She hummed as she thought
while he listened on the other end of the line. It didn’t take too long for her
to decide what she wanted and the mental image she had of him in her
desired outfits made her toes curl in her boots. She finally got what she
wanted her bridesmaids to wear, especially Ibty. She did her best to stay
composed as she was certain Ibtihaj – and probably Anneth and Bella – was
staring.
“I want you in something traditional, Ibrahim.” She wasn’t sure she’d
survive it but still! “For the Nikkah, I’m wearing white so I’d really love it if
you wore a bahkt (agbada/babanriga) but in grey. It should have lovely
embroidery, please. And full sleeves too. It has to be stunning.”
He laughed. “Of course it has to be. And for the reception?”
She was ready to swoon clearly for the world to see. “Remember what you
wore for the engagement party?”
“The indo-western sherwani?”
“Yep, that same style but something even better. A suit would be really nice
too. I’m sure your stylist would know what to do and he better not
disappoint or Ibtihaj and I would be going to jail for double murder and for
arson because we’ll burn the shops down.”
He laughed again, heartily this time, and it did nothing good for her already
messy heart. “Very well, Ayra. I’ll get the indo-western sherwani or an
elegant suit. What colour?”

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“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m yet to decide between shades of purple and
blue so until the stylist gets the samples for me to see, I can’t give you a
definite answer.”
“I’ll speak with my stylist then and we’ll come up with colours to
complement both of your options. Once you’ve made the choice, you can
choose mine and then everything will fall into place. Good?”
She grinned. “Perfect!”
“Great! So, I just got here. I need to be back at the office soon so I need to
make this quick…Oh yeah. Ayra.”
“Hmm?”
“Next weekend, let’s go to Downtown Aomi.”
Her heartbeat picked back up. “To see our home?”
“Yep. It’s more than ninety per cent ready so you can see it now. There’s
no need to delay it for much longer.”
Her smile was so dazzling. “I can’t wait. Ibty can come too, right?”
“You don’t even have to ask. We still have to make honeymoon plans and
all of that before the month runs out. We have to discuss intimacy and
contraceptives too. So much to do, Ayra, and we really need to make time
with our crazy schedules.”
Her cheeks, and nearly every other part of her, were on fire. Images she’d
never speak about assaulted her head and she wanted the floor to open up
and swallow her. “Ibrahim…”
As though as he knew what she was going through, he chuckled. “We’ll be
fine. Let’s just get it settled once and for all. Ah, there are my gifts to you
too. I need to get those settled.”
“Take your time.”
“You seem to forget we don’t have that much time anymore but sure…I
have to go.”
“Sure.”
“Stay safe, Ayra.”
“You too.”
He hung up and she lowered her phone. She stayed there until her cheeks
stopped burning and it took quite a while. When she headed back in and
slid into the seat she’d vacated, she tried to act as though nothing was out

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of the ordinary while her three friends stared at her with knowing looks.
Clearing her throat, Bella picked up her fork. “I’d kill to know what took
that long to discuss.”
Anneth snickered. “Tell me about it.”
Ayra felt the heat creep back up to her cheeks and she resembled a
chipmunk stuffing its face with acorns as she tried to hold her smile back.
She tried to get everything under control but one look at Ibtihaj turned
every effort to dust. Unable to help it, Ayra buried her face in her hands
and tried not to squeal.
Bella and Anneth laughed while Ibtihaj watched her best friend act like a
movie character. She made a face and looked away. “Wahala wa fun eni tio
shey wedding bayi (wahala for who is not getting married).” She made a sound
and looked away, being the drama queen. “Must be really nice.”
Anneth choked and grabbed her glass of water. “I don’t know what that
means,” She said with tears in her eyes. “But I agree.”
Beside her, Bella was still laughing while Ayra kept her face buried in her
hands, once again wanting the floor to open up and swallow her whole.
♣
The new week flew by; a blur of work, classes, assignments, and
presentations. On Saturday morning, Ayra woke up to see her period and
nasty cramps kept her in bed until 10AM when Ibtihaj rushed into the
room, announcing that there were quite a number of delivery people
downstairs alongside female members of the Fahad family.
Wondering what was up, Ayra pulled herself up, got changed and gladly let
Ibtihaj lead the way down. The main living room was a beehive of activities
and her eyes widened when delivery men brought in box after box in
different shapes, sizes and colours; arranging them neatly in a corner that
filled up quite quickly. The Fahads present oversaw the entire thing while
Salama, Falilat, and two of Ayra’s aunts watched on like Ayra and Ibtihaj.
Once the boxes were all in, Fareeda smiled at Ayra. “These are our gifts to
you, sweetheart; ours and Ibrahim’s. It signifies our promise to keep you as
comfortable as you can ever be. You will be a member of our family after
all.”
Some of the women with her had tight smiles which Ayra couldn’t focus on
with how stunned she was. Ibtihaj noticed every single thing and she kept
her eyes narrowed, hoping no one tried to be unfortunate and ever ready to
get crazy if there was need for it.

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Ayra slowly turned to her about-to-be mother in law. “All of it?”
Fareeda nodded. “All of it. We even thought it was too little but the last
thing we wanted was to go overboard. Ibrahim has promised to ensure you
don’t lack anything moving forward.”
When Ayra found herself unable to say anything, Fareeda laughed
beautifully and stepped forward. She put her hands on Ayra’s shoulders.
“This is the least we can do, Ayra, so please accept it in good faith.
Everything should fit and should be to your liking but if there’s anything
that doesn’t fit or isn’t to your liking, please draw our attention to it. We’ll
have it changed right away, okay?”
Ayra dazedly nodded, her voice a mere whisper. “Okay.”
“Ibrahim said you’ll be leaving with him at noon to see your new home?”
Ayra nodded again. “Yes, we are.”
“Good, good. He’s been really secretive with the entire thing so we haven’t
seen it either but I have no doubt it’s beautiful. Just like the gifts, if there’s
anything you don’t like in the home, don’t hesitate to speak out. You’re
going to be the queen of the home so every corner should be a place you
love.”
Ayra smiled as she recalled Salama saying the exact same words the night
before. “I will. Thank you.”
“I think you can start calling me Mum now.” Fareeda’s eyes shone with
mischief. “We do have just a month left after all.”
Ayra laughed, nodding. “You’re right.” Her butterflies left their cages in her
stomach. “Thank you, Mum.”
Fareeda beamed. “You’re welcome.”
Ten minutes later, the Fahads were gone and every person in the Abdulaziz
home gathered around Ayra, watching as she opened box after box. They
each had similar reactions as each box turned out to be better than the last.
Everything Ayra was going to need was in there; jewellery, clothes, shoes,
bags, toiletries and cosmetics, and even underwear (a box she immediately
snapped shut as soon as she saw what it contained). Each item was from
one notable brand or the other and trying to do the maths made her dizzy.
Her favourite item was a particular perfume that had been bought in a pack
of three; Tom Ford’s Oud Wood which she recognised as the same one
Ibrahim used. She appreciated it more than anything as she’d been looking

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forward to stealing his simply because she thought it’d be weird if she
randomly asked what perfume he used.
“Omo,” It was Falilat. “Money is good. Money is very good.”
Salama chuckled. “Aren’t you the one who said they shouldn’t flaunt it in
our faces that they’re richer than us?”
“That only applies to when they’re being arrogant about it, my dear. This
one is them ensuring that Ayra is pampered like a princess. It’s different so
it’s good.”
Ibtihaj threw an arm around her best friend’s shoulder, smiling. “And even
though love made her act like a mumu back then, I’m glad everything’s
working out now.” She turned her smile to Ayra who was doing her best to
keep glaring. “Ayra deserves everything good.”
Ayra tried really hard to keep glaring. “I’m still going to hit you.”
Ibtihaj laughed. “You’ll never find someone that’ll love you like me so
sharrap my dear and let’s go and get ready. We do have to be in Downtown
Aomi soon.”
Salama smiled at her daughter. “You should go on to have your bath and
get changed. We’ll put everything back in place and then go over the final
guest list before you return to ensure we’re not missing anything.”
Ayra smiled back at her mother. “Thank you, Ummi.”
“You’re welcome.”
♣
The Oasis, in person, was much more luxurious than Ayra and Ibtihaj ever
imagined and no one could blame them for standing in front of the main
entrance and staring up at the majorly glass residential building.
“Ayra,” Ibtihaj spoke like someone bewitched. “Ayra, you go dey live here
o. You and man, hei!”
Ayra was just as enchanted. “Ibty, it feels like a dream.”
“Make I pinch you? So that you’ll know it’s real.”
“You’re sick.”
Ibtihaj laughed. “You never see anything.” She then looked around.
“Where’s – Oh, see Ibrahim!”
Ayra lowered her head and watched Ibrahim step out through the revolving
doors that led into the building. He was in blue and black and his hair was

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messy but beautiful and the smile he directed their way only made him
more dashing.
“Hey.” He stopped right in front of them. “I hope you two got here okay.”
Ayra nodded, giving him a small smile in return. “We did. Ibty drove.”
Ibtihaj smiled proudly when he looked her way and he smiled back before
returning his attention to his fiancé. His brows furrowed slightly. “You
drive, right? At least that’s what I was told.”
Ibtihaj replied before Ayra could. “Don’t mind this girl. She just likes being
a passenger princess. She can drive.”
Ayra nearly stepped on her best-friend’s foot. “Ibty, I swear to God…”
Ibrahim chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t mind you being my passenger
princess.”
Ayra swooned while Ibtihaj pretended to choke. “Abeg, shebi we have an
apartment to tour? Let’s go please. This love thing wan wound me.”
Laughing, Ibrahim led the way, telling them the interior designer was
already waiting for them. The reception area of The Oasis was a lovely
blend of gold finishes and sleek black areas. Ibrahim told both women what
they already knew from the research they’d carried out; that the entire lobby
floor was for commercial and residential amenities; mini restaurants and
bars, a spa, two saloons for both sexes, and a gym. The residence’s
swimming pool was on the roof level while the parking lot was
underground, each apartment unit having three slots. To get extra slots
there was a fine and Ayra realised she actually didn’t know just how many
cars Ibrahim had.
The elevator carriage had full mirrored walls and Ayra smiled widely at
Ibtihaj’s held up phone while Ibrahim popped into the recording video for
a moment and then popped back out. They took the elevator up to the 10th
floor and once the doors opened, they got out. The tiles on the corridor
were dark, shining nicely under the bright lights. The floor had four
apartments, each with the floor number and a letter. Ibrahim led them to
apartment 10B and with a smile, he pulled the unlocked door open.
“Welcome home.”
With a rapidly beating heart, Ayra stepped in after him and Ibtihaj followed
right behind her. The foyer had them gasping. It was not such a big space
but it was perfect enough for Ayra, and then there was the interior;
everything she would have put in place had she been the one to design the
place.

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Three out of four walls were painted warm beige to complement the marble
tiles and the last wall, on the left side of the door, had a pattern; wooden
slats running the length of a quarter of it and then flowing into the tiled
three-quarter area that held the half-circle mirror. There were hanging lights
on the slatted side and then there was a floating shelf that held two mini
paintings, a vase to be filled with flowers and faux books simply meant for
aesthetics.
“Is this good?” Ibrahim asked Ayra.
Gaping, Ayra nodded and Ibtihaj did the same beside her. They turned at
the sound of approaching footsteps. A female, dressed smartly in a white
suit and a black inner shirt with her hair packed back in a bun and stilettos
on her feet, smiled at Ayra and Ibtihaj. “Good day. My name’s Helen Dione
and I’m the contracted interior designer of this unit.”
Ayra composed herself and held a hand out which Helen immediately took.
Ayra’s smile was polite and pretty. “It’s so nice to meet you, Helen. I’m
Ayra Abdulaziz, Ibrahim’s fiancé. I haven’t seen the rest of the unit yet but
this foyer is a masterpiece.”
Helen’s smile widened. “I’m glad you love it. Ibrahim said everything had to
be perfect so I couldn’t disappoint.”
Ayra glanced at her fiancé who smiled at her and then she turned back to
Helen. “Thank you, really. This is Ibtihaj Adeola, she’s my sister from
another mother.”
Helen let go of Ayra’s hand to take Ibtihaj’s. Her smile did not waver. “It’s
a pleasure to meet you too.”
Ibtihaj smiled back. “The pleasure’s all mine.”
Ibrahim put his hands in his pockets. “Helen would take it from here. I’ll
just stay right behind. Helen?”
Helen nodded, still smiling at both women. She gestured inside. “This way,
please.”
Beyond the foyer was the living space and there was no way to stop Ayra’s
jaw from hitting the ground. It was wide and very, very spacious with beige
walls, cream tiles, double height windows and shelves that ran the length of
both walls, holding vases placed for aesthetical purposes. A LED TV sat
comfortably between both shelves and right above it was a painting which
Helen said could be removed to hang up whatever photo Ayra and Ibrahim
agreed to have framed after the wedding.

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The contemporary chandelier hung down from the middle of the high
ceiling, its lights soft and gentle on the eyes. The living room was big
enough to take two L-shaped white sectional sofas, a blue single seater, two
earth brown seaters, two coffee tables which held vases and little
accessories, and side stools which had beautiful lamps on them. The
cushions of the sofas alternated between warm shades of cream and
patterned blues, and it was beautiful; all of it was beautiful.
Ayra took small steps to the window, taking in the amazing view of the
ocean she was presented with. It was calming and she knew she was going
to make it her favourite spot. The living room was going to be a favourite
place.
“Omo,” Ibtihaj said, pulling Ayra’s attention away from the ocean. “It’s a
duplex apartment o. There’s an upper floor.”
Not believing her best friend, Ayra turned around and true to Ibtihaj’s
words, there was an upper level; something that wasn’t stated on The
Oasis’s website. Helen nodded, her hands in front of her. “It’s the
mezzanine level, holding the bedrooms and a family longue. It’s
information the public doesn’t know until an individual is interested in
getting a unit. That’s why The Oasis is this high although it only has twelve
floors and an underground level.”
Ayra could only exchange stunned looks with her best friend. Helen moved
on and they followed. She showed them the guest bathroom, the home
office which could double as a study with the way it was furnished, and the
laundry room which already had everything set in place.
She then led them towards the left side of the floor, smiling as she said
“And this masterpiece is your kitchen.” She opened the door and stepped
aside to they could walk in. “It was designed by the Chinese company,
Oppolia, and it’s named the Project Vita.”
One could always count on Ibtihaj to be the one with the vocal reactions.
“Olurun mi (My God)…Wow!”
Ayra felt as though she’d stepped into another world she didn’t know
existed. The kitchen was perfect; natural wood accents in different shades
and white coming together to create the masterpiece that it was.
The Italian styled kitchen was luxury at its finest. The dark wood cabinets
were wall mounted with open wood shelves with hidden light strips in
between where Tupperware – beautifully modern – were displayed,
arranged perfectly. The kitchen island – which featured a dark waterfall

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edge – had white touches and a lot of storage space also with open wood
shelves. The island had the cooking area and Ayra loved it.
Ibtihaj was the one who opened cabinet after cabinet, taking in everything
they contained with awed curiosity. Some cabinets were empty and she
didn’t need to be told that they’d be stocked up when the wedding was
close. Ayra, on the other, walked over to the dining area in front of full
length windows; a reflective marble topped table with six overly
comfortable grey chairs. Helen showed her the store room and then
pointed out the French door refrigerator that blended in as one of the
cabinets.
When she was sure there was nothing else to see, Helen asked “Can we
head up now?”
Ayra and Ibtihaj did not need to be asked twice. They nodded and said yes.
Back in the living room, Ibrahim stood in front of the double height
windows, calmly watching the ocean and the waves that washed up to
shore.

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11 (Part II)
The upper floor of the unit – the mezzanine level – was three quarters the
length of the lower floor and the family lounge was the first area one
stepped into once they’d ascended the stairs.
It was a cosy space with tiles that gave the illusion of a wooden floor. It was
simply furnished; a sectional sofa with a lot of cushions which sat on a wide
rug, a round wooden topped coffee table and then voile curtains on the
windows. There was no TV and Ayra preferred it that way. She put it at the
back of her head to check online stores for paintings that could add more
beauty to the space.
She turned to look at Ibrahim who was focused on his phone. With a small
smile, she turned back to Helen and followed when the interior designer
moved in the left direction of the floor, Ibtihaj right beside her.
“Ibrahim called this Ayra’s space.” Helen said as she opened the door,
letting them step in. “It’s a kid’s room but he said you’re not having kids
right away so inside of leaving it bare, we should make it a space for you to
find peace in.”
Ibtihaj fake sobbed. “Love o.”
If she wasn’t so in love with Ibrahim before, Ayra would have drowned in
the love that hit her then. Taking small steps, she stepped deeper inside and
looked around.
The room was cosy and it was everything she never knew she wanted; rose
gold curtains, a backless lounge sofa with black and pink cushions that took
up the entire width of the wall that held that the room’s windows, a Persian
rug with even more cushions and an adorable coffee table, a shelf for the
books she was definitely getting, and then the swing chair that hung in the
corner with its own cushions and faux fur throw blanket.
Moved to tears, she turned to look at her fiancé who leaned against the
doorframe. She swallowed softly. “Ibrahim…”
“I told you I was going to give you everything. This is the least I can do,
Ayra. You deserve this and so much more.”
Helen pretended to look around for anything that was out of place while
Ibtihaj shamelessly watched everything unfold, gratitude in her chest at the
thought of Ayra being treated right. Ayra, on the other hand, smiled at him.
“Thank you.”
Ibrahim smiled back; his usual small smile. “You’re welcome.”

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Helen cleared her throat then. “Right. Let’s move on.” She led the way out
and she then smiled as she opened the opposite door. “And this, Ayra, is
your room.”
Ayra’s smile dropped and her brows furrowed. Once again she turned to
Ibrahim. “My room?”
Ibrahim, who had a slight frown on his face, nodded slowly. “Yes, your
room…Is something wrong?”
Ayra’s brows furrowed further and her frown fully formed. “No, I just –”
She frowned even more. “I thought we’d be sharing a room. That’s what I
always assumed.”
“No…We’re not sharing a room, Ayra.”
She could only stare at him, unable to explain how she felt right there and
then. Ibrahim turned to Ibtihaj and Helen, his smile tight. “Can we get a
minute please?”
Helen nodded while Ibtihaj hesitated until Ayra smiled at her, as tightly as
Ibrahim had done. Not having any reason to stay back, both women headed
towards the other side of the floor. Ibrahim turned back to his fiancé.
“Ayra, I never assumed we’d share a room.”
“Why? Isn’t that supposed to be normal?” She folded her arms. “Couples
share a room all their lives.”
“No they don’t.”
“Yes they do.”
“Ayra, my parents don’t share a room. They have their respective rooms
and they only sleep over in the other’s room when they feel like it. I
thought that’s normal for every family.”
The fight in her died as realisation dawned. She unfolded her arms and let
them fall back to her sides, swallowing softly. “I’m sorry. I just…I just
assumed based on what I grew up with. My parents have shared a room all
their lives and each person I know does the same so I just assumed that’s
how it is in every home. I’m sorry.”
“No, Ayra, it’s fine. I should have discussed it with you. My parents have
had different rooms all my life and it’s been the same in almost every family
I know so I assumed too.” He raised his hand to rub the back of his neck.
“This puts us in a tight spot now. This room’s furnished solely for you and
the other’s furnished solely for me and to start redecorating now…It’ll take
lot of time and that’ll be more incurred costs.”

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Ayra let herself think about it. It was different from what she was used to
and way different from what she’d imagined a part of their union to be. But
then again she’d been taught that marriage brought together two people
with different mind-sets and upbringings which was why compromises
existed.
She blew out a small breath a little later. At the end of it all, he had put a lot
of things in place and she concluded it’d be unfair to have them tear things
down. She exhaled again. “It’s fine.”
Ibrahim raised his head. “Huh?”
“We having separate rooms is fine.” She gave him a small smile. “Besides,
you said such arrangement gives room for sleepovers.” She smiled wider
and put her hands behind her, leaning forward slightly. “I think that’ll be
fun.”
He stared at her for a moment before he started smiling, chuckling seconds
later. “God, you’re amazing.” He nodded while she blushed. “Sure, we’ll
have sleepovers, Ayra. I look forward to them.”
She grinned. “Me too.”
“Let’s get Helen and Ibty so we can continue the tour.”
“Yes, let’s do that.”
Ibtihaj only relaxed fully when Ayra assured her sincerely that she and
Ibrahim were fine. Relieved that there was no issue, Helen led them into
Ayra’s room and like every other part of the house, it was breathtakingly
stunning; bringing together shades of beige, brown, gold, and green with a
unique chandelier hanging down from above.
The queen sized mattress snugly fit into a beige bedframe with a curved,
tufted headboard. There were nightstands on both sides with tall night
lamps and at the foot of the bed were two green ottoman stools with gold
legs. The bedframe, the nightstands, and the ottoman stools sat on a black
and white patterned rug that had touches of brown. The wall behind the
bed had curved panels that really brought out the beauty of the bed setting.
A cactus inspired sofa, in a beautiful shade of sage green, sat against a wall
and Ayra gasped when she recognised the painting above it. She turned to
Ibrahim with wide eyes, disbelief wrapped around her like a cloak.
He smiled shyly. “Well, you clearly loved the painting in your parents’ room
when you spoke about it on the day you met the squad so I thought I
should do something for you.”

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Ayra couldn’t help but say “God, I love you.”
Ibtihaj snorted. “When have you ever not done so?”
Ayra ignored her best friend and turned back to the painting on the wall.
Majority of the canvas had a Leilani in full bloom, covering the face of a
woman who was clearly her. It was different from the painting in her
parents’ room but she loved it; she loved it so, so much.
Ibtihaj made herself comfortable on the sofa. “Me too, I’ll love too one
day.”
Helen could only chuckle before saying “Let’s check out the bathroom and
the walk-in closet.”
Ibtihaj immediately rose to her feet and Ayra got excited. The walk-in
wardrobe had white storage spaces that took up the entirety of two walls.
Then a mirror occupied the last wall, a vanity dresser sitting prettily right in
front of it. In the middle of the space, right underneath the mini chandelier
was a fur rug and an ottoman stool. A velvet, tufted armchair and a small
coffee table sat in a corner; a setting fit for a luxurious woman. Ayra adored
the space and she looked forward to filling it up.
“Ayra,” Ibtihaj told her best friend. “Better make space for my own clothes
because if I don’t visit you until you get tired of me, then my name is not
Ibtihaj Oluwatosin Adeola.”
Ayra laughed with Ibrahim and Helen. She then nodded. “Yes ma.”
The bathroom was simple and lovely with white walls and golden fixtures; a
ladder rack for towels, double sinks on the marbled vanity with a floating
wooden shelf underneath, a wide mirror, a tub on the left side and the
shower on the right – both behind the glass divider. The floating toilet seat
sat by the rack with its controls on the wall.
“Now,” Ayra said to her fiancé with a beautiful smile. “Let’s go see your
room.”
Ibrahim smiled back, nodding. “Sure, Ayra. Let’s do that.”
His room – the master bedroom – was the only one on the other side of the
floor and unlike hers, Ibrahim’s room was dark in every way possible,
stunning Ayra and Ibtihaj to silence. It was beautiful, no doubt, and
everything about it screamed Ibrahim Fahad.
He had a sitting area with peanut brown velvet sofa which had tuxedo
armrests, a cream centre rug with black borders, and a glass topped coffee
table that sat underneath the layered chandelier. The windows had double

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curtains; inner white voile curtains and outer brown ones and then there
was a painting on the wall that caught Ayra and Ibtihaj’s attention. It was
that of a woman but it was hard to make out who it was.
Ibrahim stopped right behind his fiancé, nearly resting his chin on her
shoulder as he leaned in to whisper “Don’t think too hard about who it is. I
just saw it and I liked it. Helen also said it fit the theme of the room.”
Helen nodded, smiling proudly. “I did.”
Ibtihaj, who’d never seen Ibrahim and Ayra in such a close position, had
her jaw on the floor. She picked it back up when they moved into the main
room itself. The chandelier had hanging bulbs arranged in a beautiful
pattern. His bed was a double king with a black high leather headboard
which sat in front of the wooden panelled walls. His nightstands were dark
brown and so were his tall night lamps. His ottoman stool was green and
button tufted, complimenting the grey rug underneath. His windows were
full length and there was door between the panels that led out to the wide
balcony. Ayra knew then that she was going to be there a lot – especially at
night – in order to appreciate the stunning view of Downtown Aomi.
Ibrahim’s walk-in closet was larger than Ayra’s and way darker. Just like
hers, he had a full mirror and his dresser with ottoman stools; two small
ones instead of one. His bathroom was a work of art and; double sinks on a
floating vanity, a tinted mirror, a floating toilet seat, a wall hung bidet, a
shower area behind dark glass, and then the bath area with its floating tub
and in-wall recess. His racks were black and the space had more storage
compartments than hers. Ayra blushed furiously as she pushed down the
sinful images that popped in her head. Behind her, Ibtihaj pushed down a
snicker as she knew exactly what her best friend was thinking. Ibrahim, as
always, was calm.
At Ayra’s request, Helen took them round the place again. Ayra began to
see the images clearly; her and him living their best lives and making
memories in every part of the unit with a lot of love and laughter. Helen
faced her when it was all over. “I hope this is perfect, Ayra?”
Ayra nodded with no hesitation. “It is. It’s so perfect, Helen. Thank you.”
“Oh please. I had fun working on this project. It’s my greatest pleasure.”
Ibtihaj went over to stand beside Helen, smiling nicely. “I hope you’re not
too expensive sha. If I am marrying, I want something like this.”
Helen laughed. “When that time comes, do remind me that you’re
acquainted with Ibrahim. I won’t forget you easily but my mind can get

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messed up with work sometimes so…I’m sure we can work out a
discount.”
As she watched her best friend’s smile turn evil, Ayra rolled her eyes and
turned to Ibrahim who stood beside her. He fully turned to her, smiling in
his usual way. His hands returned to his pockets. “I’m glad you love it. I’ve
been nervous ever since the final piece was put in place. I really wanted you
to like it.”
Her chest was way too warm. “I love it, Ibrahim.”
“I’m glad…Maybe we should have had the boxes delivered here instead of
your family home. We’ll have to move them again from Plum Boulevard
here.”
She smiled widely. “We’ll handle that. Thank you so much. I loved every
single thing. I’ll use them well.”
“I don’t doubt that one bit.” He took a small step forward, closer to her.
“What did you love most though?”
The familiarity of his perfume and the way he looked at her was a mix that
threatened to make Ayra lightheaded. She had no doubt he’d catch her but
she wasn’t ready to fall like that yet. She forced herself to keep breathing,
inhaling everything that was him.
“The perfumes.” Her voice was breathy and low. “I loved the perfumes.”
“I was hoping you would.” His voice was as low as hers. “I don’t think
there’s anything better than two people in love with each other scenting the
same way. It’s comforting and I can’t wait for you to start using them. I
can’t wait to hug you too.” Briefly, his gaze dropped to her lips and Ayra
saw him swallow as his eyes came back to hers. “And do everything else.”
Her heart was too frenetic to even try to rein it back under control. She did
her best to keep breathing and God, she wanted to kiss him. It was the first
time she felt the urge so strongly. Luckily for her heart – and her sanity,
Ibrahim stepped back, breaking the bubble they were wrapped in.
“When do your exams start?”
The topic change was momentarily disorienting. She shook her head slightly
to clear it and then she focused on providing a reply to the question he’d
asked. “On the 3rd. It’ll end on the 9th. Why?”
“I was trying to come with a timeline…We should do our medical tests as
soon as you’re done and then we can settle what else is left. We still need to
talk about intimacy, Ayra. We can’t keep delaying it.”

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Warmth rose to her cheeks. “Ibrahim, we will.”
“And then the honeymoon.”
“Let’s go to Zanzibar,” She put her hands together. “I beg you. They have
really beautiful resorts.”
He nodded. “I’ll get in touch with the travel agency then.” He then smiled.
“You love Zanzibar that much?”
She smiled like a kid in a candy store. “I did some research on honeymoon
destinations and I loved what I saw. Are we going to stay here until the new
year?”
“I was hoping we could be back before the 31st. Anneth and Nathaniel
host the meanest crossover parties and you don’t want to miss it for
anything.”
“Fine then. We’ll be back before the 31st. We’ll be able to celebrate your
birthday too.”
“My birthday’s nothing special, Ayra.”
“Not anymore. I’m here now, Ibrahim, so we’re changing that.”
He finally smiled, his gaze softening so nicely. “I look forward to it then.”
“Yay!”
“And we should tackle intimacy and contraceptives tonight.”
Her expression fell. “I don’t like you.”
He laughed. “Now that’s something I don’t feel towards you. We’ll be fine.
The earlier the better, Ayra.”
She sighed defeatedly. “Alright. We’ll tackle it tonight.”
She did not look forward to it one bit. They eventually stepped out of the
apartment and Ibtihaj walked away with Helen while Ayra and Ibrahim set
up their passcodes and registered their fingerprints in the scanner, Ibrahim
overseeing the whole thing. He then led the way two levels down – to the
eight floor – where Bella lived. Unfortunately she wasn’t in but Ayra was
thrilled to know the exact apartment, knowing she was going to be visiting
the Italian sweetheart a lot.
When they got to the parking lot in front of the residential building, Helen
said goodbye and then she left, promising to be in touch if they needed
anything. Ibrahim then faced Ayra. “Should I take you home?”

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Ibtihaj grabbed her best friend’s arm. “No! E don do! You people have
been sharing love since we got here. It is okay.” She glared at Ayra. “If you
think of allowing me drive back on my own, I will murder you here and I’ll
ensure they properly dispose of your body.”
Ibrahim raised a brow. “Are you threatening my wife, Ibty?”
Ayra rolled her lips in just so she didn’t smile like a lovesick teenager;
exactly what she felt like. Ibtihaj scoffed. “It’s today that being single pain
me pass. No wahala. I’ll be someone’s wife someday and I will avenge this
day, Ibrahim!”
Ibrahim was clearly amused. “I’ll look forward to it…Drive safely, please.”
“I will.”
He turned to Ayra as Ibtihaj started pulling her away. “Stay safe, Leilani.”
“You too! See you soon!”
And he stood there until they left in Salama’s car which they’d come with,
his smile never leaving his face.

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12
December, 2020.
While Ayra and Ibtihaj wrote their first semester examinations, their
families and the Fahads got things in order. Ayra and Ibrahim’s things were
moved to their apartment in Downtown Aomi and arranged under
Ibrahim’s supervision. When he was too busy at work, his mother stood in
his stead while Salama and Falilat stood in Ayra’s.
Bookings were confirmed over and over to avoid funny stories and
contracted vendors knew better than to try and act shady with the
responsibilities they were given. Attendances were confirmed and those
who would be unable to make it apologised, promising to visit the newly
wedded as soon as they could. Party favours for those who would be in
attendance were ordered and packaged too. The Fahads, more than once,
flaunted their wealth and the Abdulazizs were too focused on getting things
together for their daughter to even let it get to them.
On the day they finished their last paper, Ayra and Ibtihaj met up with
Bella, Anneth, and Jalal at Cake Heaven, the contracted confectioner for the
event, for cake tasting. Ibrahim was in a meeting with Tobi so Jalal was
standing in for him which Ayra appreciated.
She smiled as she and Ibtihaj got to where the trio stood. “Hey, guys. I
hope we didn’t keep you waiting long.”
“Oh please,” Bella said with a light flick of her wrist. She was stunning in a
black halter neck jumpsuit. “As if we’d ever mind. I hope your paper went
well.”
Ayra nodded alongside Ibtihaj. “It did. I’m glad we’re done. I can finally
focus on getting married.”
Jalal laughed. “Oh Ayra.” He then smiled at the woman beside her. “Hi,
Ibty.”
“Hey, Jalal.” Ibtihaj’s smile was just as pretty as his. “I hope you’re
considering my proposal.”
Anneth, Bella, and Ayra looked curiously between the two which made Jalal
laugh before he explained what she meant. “She doesn’t want to be paired
with Tobi for the reception entrance. You know it’s just us on the couple
team and Ibrahim still hasn’t made it clear who is going to be the best man
between Tobi and I so…”
Anneth easily linked her arm with Ibtihaj’s. “That’s how he’ll pick
Nathaniel.”

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Bella scoffed, linking her own arm with Ayra’s. “As if you’d let him. You
and Nate are too obsessed with each other.”
Anneth smiled proudly. “Sorry you can’t relate.”
“Don’t allow me hit you.”
Ayra laughed and cut in. “Let’s go inside. We have an appointment.”
Jalal nodded. “Yes, let’s do that.”
The founder of the confectionery business, Fadel, was present and she
ensured each person had a plate of every flavour she offered. Ayra found it
hard to choose and so did the others so Fadel recommended having
different flavours on every tier since it was to be a six-tiered cake. Ayra
gladly took her suggestion and then they picked out the flavours they loved,
chocolate being a constant flavour in every tier. Fadel then went through
the cake’s decoration with them so be sure she had it right; white fondant
with little accents and then flowers running the length of both sides of the
cake.
Ayra nodded yet again, her smile wide. “Exactly.”
Fadel smiled back, relieved. “I look forward to working on it. I promise to
not disappoint.”
As usual, Ibtihaj made her threats and they all ended up laughing. They
went through the dessert list with Fadel before they said goodbyes, the
ladies promising to meet up the next day for Ayra’s final fitting; something
she was excitedly looking forward to. Just like she and Ibtihaj agreed, she
was the one to drive them home so Ayra unlocked the car doors and they
got in.
“God, I’m so glad we’re done.” Ibtihaj said and then threw her hands up.
“We don enter owambe season!”
Ayra smiled, easing out of the parking lot of the business area where the
Cake Heaven was located. She then put the gear in drive and eased down
on the pedal, taking them in the direction of Plum Boulevard. “I’m so
excited, Ibty.”
“Guy, me too! I’m even more excited than you and I’m not the bride. But
then again, I’m excited to party while you’re just excited to get the title of
Mrs Fahad. You’re also excited to go on the honeymoon too and just be
alone with him. The wedding is just a formality for you.”
Ayra’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly while her cheeks
resembled beetroots. “Ibty, please.”

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“But you and I know it’s true.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to hear you say it out loud.”
Ibtihaj cackled. “You never see anything.” She then sighed, making herself
more comfortable in the seat. She turned her head to stare out of the
window at the places they drove past. “But on a more serious note, Ayra,
I’m happy for you. At the beginning, when we first met, I was so certain
you were just being unhealthily delusional and I wanted you to see reason.
God knows I couldn’t understand how a sane human could love someone
for so long because I know I can’t. But then again we’re all mad in one way
or the other.”
Ayra could feel the tears coming. “Ibty…”
Ibtihaj didn’t turn away from the window. “If you cry ehn, I will kill you.”
She let a moment of silence pass. “I wanted to slap you many times when
you went on and on about Ibrahim Fahad. I used to think you were really
mad with how much you knew about him and times without number, I
prayed for you to not end up getting hurt. You’re a sweet soul, Ayra, and as
my best friend, all I wanted…No, all I ever want is for you to be happy. I
didn’t want you to hold on to something that would never materialise into
reality so that was why I told you time and time again to get over him. But
you’re one hopeful person, Ayra. I really want to be like you when I grow
up.”
Blinking back her tears, Ayra switched to the easy lane and purposely
reduced the vehicle’s speed. Ibtihaj continued. “Sha, we thank God that
everything worked out. My ears nearly burst the day Ibrahim’s proposal
came and I wanted to beat you when you said you immediately accepted.
You remember the way I shook you, right?”
Ayra let out a watery laugh, nodding. “You shook me hard. God, Ibty, it
made me dizzy. You kept asking me ‘Sho wa alright ni?’”
Ibtihaj snorted, finally turning away from the window. “Your Yoruba is still
terrible.”
“And you’re a bad friend for starting this now. Couldn’t you wait until the
henna party or something?”
“You know I’m not like the others.”
“True.”
Ibtihaj smiled a little. “You should have seen how brightly you smiled that
day, Ayra. I still have the picture I took of you that day and I’m not going
to give it to anyone else because you were that beautiful and I am going to

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selfishly treasure that moment.” She sighed again. “Then we went an entire
month without hearing from Ibrahim and I was just so on edge because it
felt wrong. Like, how can you be engaged to someone and not hear from
them? You kept saying he was busy and there was so much I wanted to say
but thank God I didn’t. Uncle Muhsin’s explanation on the day we
graduated put me at ease and I guess that was the first time I actually
respected Ibrahim. Lagos men can never.”
Ayra laughed. “You and Lagos men, Ibty.”
“You don’t know the half of it, my dear.” Slowly, the estate came into view.
“Sha, Ibrahim has proved to be a good guy so far and I like the fact that I
can sleep soundly knowing you’re going to be okay. I have my eyes on his
parents and his aunts sha. If they try to do anything funny during the
wedding, it’s on sight and I don’t care if I ruin my komole doing it.”
“You know you’re weird, right? Anneth and Bella chose to go with silk and
satin and you had to use komole.”
Ibtihaj smiled proudly. “You can take me away from the Yoruba land but
you cannot take the Yoruba out of me. And you should know that we don’t
carry last when it comes to events. I’m the chief bridesmaid so I should
slay.”
“Watch Tobi pay tribute to his roots too.”
Ibtihaj’s smile dropped immediately. “No just do that rough play.”
Ayra laughed, nodding at the security men who opened the estate’s gates.
“It may happen.”
“Omo, he go naked that day. I refuse that! He must wear suits like the
others for the reception. He should only wear the agbada for the Nikkah but
he better not try to outshine Ibrahim.”
“He won’t. I’ll kill him if he does.”
“Better.”
Ayra then smiled appreciatively. “And I’m glad I met you that day in U of
A, Ibty. Having you as my best and only friend has been nothing short of a
blessing and I’m glad my love for Ibrahim didn’t chase you away.”
“Funny enough it should have o.”
“I’m glad it didn’t.” Ayra smoothly parked in front of the Adeolas’
compound. She then gave Ibtihaj her full attention. “Thank you, for
trusting me and for being here every step of the way. I appreciate you, more
than you’ll ever know, Ibty, and I want you to know that I’ll always be here

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for you. I want you to also know that I love you and all I’ll ever want is for
you to be happy.”
Ibtihaj found herself blinking back tears. “Even more than Ibrahim?”
Ayra playfully glared. “Don’t push it. But you do come close.”
Ibtihaj laughed. Sniffling, she opened her arms. “Come here jor.”
Ayra leaned over the console between the seats and hugged her best friend,
patting the other’s back. “We’ll be okay, Ibty, I promise.”
“I don’t doubt it. If Ibrahim tries anything funny, tell me so I can come and
beat him. I know marriage is not a bed of roses so on the bad days, know
that I always have your back. You’re my best friend, Ayra, and my sister
from another mother so I’m always going to be here for you. I hope you
know – always – that you’re worth everything good, Ayra. You’re worth the
whole world.”
Ayra blinked back her own tears. “Isn’t it too early for all this?”
“It’s good we’re saying it now so we don’t forget anything when the
craziness starts because everything so far has been child’s play.”
Ayra hugged her best friend tighter. “I love you, Ibty.”
“I love you too, Ayra. In Shaa Allah I’m always going to.”
Minutes later, Ayra was walking into her own family’s house. Salama was
already waiting in the foyer and the expression on her mother’s face told
Ayra clearly that she – Salama – was going to take her down memory lane
the same way Ibtihaj did. They moved to the second living room where
Muhsin was waiting. It took less than an hour and half for Ayra to succumb
to her tears, comfortably wrapped in her parents’ embrace.
Salama kissed her daughter’s head, blinking back tears of her own. “We love
you, Leilani. In Shaa Allah we’re always going to.”
Muhsin simply held his daughter tighter, closing his eyes and clearly hearing
her saying the words “I love you both too.”
♣
Bella, Anneth, Salama, Ibtihaj, Falilat, Fareeda, and Gigi – Ibrahim’s aunt –
sat on the plush sofas in the changing room at The Styling Emporium,
waiting eagerly for Ayra’s reveal.
The stylist stepped out from behind the curtain, smiling excitedly. “Are we
ready?”

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Eager nods were the response she got which was more than enough for her
to signal at the company’s employees who nodded and pulled the curtains
apart, revealing Ayra who was in her Nikkah dress; a beautiful vision in
white with her curls left loose to fall down her back. They all – except Gigi
who just widened her eyes – gasped while Ayra smiled shyly, her hands in
front of her.
“Oh my God.” It was Anneth. “Ibrahim’s going to have a heart attack.”
Bella nodded, just as dazed. “Tell me about it. He’s going to collapse.”
Falilat moved forward on the sofa she occupied, smiling from ear to ear.
“Hei, thank God you didn’t tell me to sew this for you because this is too
good! Turn abeg, let’s see the entire gown.”
Ayra complied, her cheeks rosy. Fareeda sighed blissfully. “Ya Allah, you’re
so beautiful, Ayra.”
Ayra finished her twirl, her cheeks darker and her smile wider. “Thank
you.” She looked at her mother who was silent. “Ummi?”
Salama wiped away the tear that slipped when she blinked, laughing lightly.
“I’m sorry, I’m just –” She blew out a breath. “I’m just in awe, Leilani. You
look amazing.”
Ayra’s smile returned. “Thank you!” She rolled her eyes at her frozen best
friend. “Ibty!”
Ibtihaj snapped out of it. “Omo, wahala dey. It’s like you want to kill
everyone on that day. And you opened your mouth waa to say it was going
to be just simple.”
Ayra’s blush deepened. “The day I’ll kill you is coming closer and closer.”
Ibtihaj smiled like a brat, batting her lashes. “You will not do anything, my
dear.”
Ayra rolled her eyes while Anneth, Falilat, Bella, and Salama chuckled.
Fareeda simply smiled, one leg crossed over the other with her hands
together on her knees. Slightly nervous, Ayra turned to Gigi. The female
Fahad sat as elegantly as Fareeda but with a straighter back. She gave Ayra a
small smile. “It’s a lovely dress, Ayra. You’ll look lovely on that day.”
Every other person – except Fareeda – let out a relieved breath. Ayra
smiled brightly once more. “Thank you, Aunt Gigi.”
“You’re welcome.”
Salama turned to the stylist. “Why don’t we see her with the headpiece?”

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The stylist nodded. “Yes, Mrs Abdulaziz. I’ll get it immediately.”
The headpiece, even when loosely placed, was perfect and they couldn’t
shut about it which made Ayra laugh. She was glad the dress turned out
better than she’d imagined and she honestly couldn’t wait for Ibrahim to
see her in it. Once they were all sure there were no adjustments to be made,
Ayra was led to get changed into her reception dress which was even better
than the Nikkah’s. Their reactions were even better and she laughed more.
Only the sleeves had minor adjustments which were done immediately.
Satisfied, Ayra paid the amount left and smiled all the way to the car.
The dresses were wrapped up perfectly, with extra care, and moved to the
booth of Salama’s car. Waving goodbye to her mother, Falilat, Fareeda, and
Gigi, Ayra and Ibtihaj joined Bella and Anneth as they had to check in with
the make-up and henna artists they were to work with. They all got into
Anneth’s SUV – a white 2020 Ford Explorer – and were out of the
premises in no time.
As they headed towards the Business and Institutional Area, Ayra’s phone
beeped with new messages from Ibrahim. The first message was a
confirmation message for the booking of their honeymoon suite while the
second message was a link that took her to the official site of the resort he’d
chosen for them based on her recommendations. As she looked through
the amenities and facilities available, Ayra smiled prettily. Like everyone
already knew, she really couldn’t wait to be Mrs Ibrahim Fahad.
♣
The Henna Party, which officially began Ibrahim and Ayra’s wedding, was
held in the backyard of the Abdulaziz home. Like Ayra asked, it was simple
and intimate with only female family members and a few friends in
attendance; most of whom had come from one Christmas party or the
other.
Salama, alongside Iris and Kim, had outdone themselves; turning the green
yard into a jaw-dropping masterpiece with a large open side tent with
overhead and side drapes which comfortably took sofas put together to
form a nearly complete circle, lots of cushions and throw blankets, round
coffee tables on the spread out rug and lights that shone brightly. There
were also food and tea carts which held everything from sweet to savoury,
providing more than enough to go round for guests present.
Ayra sat in the middle of all the celebrations, her smile nearly permanent as
a henna artist worked on her arms while her feet were placed on a stool so
the designs could dry. Like everything else, she’d asked for something

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simple and the artist did not disappoint as she brought circles, swirls, and
floral touches together with dark red paste that popped against Ayra’s skin.
The bride was in turquoise blue and gold: an A-line dress which was sewn
with a lot of love by Falilat that combined lace, inner lining, and silk. The
bodice perfectly fit, sewn to give the illusion of an inner top and outer
jacket. The dress then flowed from the waist to the ground while the silk
material was used for the balloon sleeves and the dress’s train which was
perfectly draped at the sides. Her headpiece was cut out from the same silk
material and it was tied nicely around her head. She didn’t wear make-up
but the spa sessions she’d been having were enough to make her glow
naturally.
There were a lot of goodwill wishes and a lot of prayers which Ayra
appreciated heartily. There was a lot of teasing too which made her cheeks
redden and redden until they couldn’t do so anymore. When the henna
dried and had been washed off, Anneth led the games that had been
prepared and Ayra won a lot. Ibtihaj, to everyone’s amusement, was a sore
looser and she made laugh over and over again.
A little after Isha, the party came to an end, and Anneth was the one who
told Ayra that she and Bella would no longer be sleeping over as they’d
planned. The bride’s smile vanished. “Is everything okay?”
Anneth sighed, nodding. “Yep. Nathaniel just called, saying he’s got a little
cold and when such happens, he’s the biggest baby. Bella’s lover just called
to say he’s around so she has to get him settled because he can also be the
biggest baby.”
Bella’s situation had more of Ayra’s attention. She blinked. “Her lover’s
coming for the wedding?”
Anneth managed a small smile. “He’s supposed to so you and Ibty can meet
him but he’s saying something about a family situation so he might just be
stopping by. I hope you get to meet him though.”
Ayra smiled back. “I hope so too.” She sighed and hugged Anneth. “Say hi
to Nate for me.”
“I will.” Anneth promised before pulling back, her smile much wider. “And
I know I’ve said this time and time again but you’re going to be the most
beautiful bride the world has seen.”
Ayra blushed way too easily. “Thank you, Anneth.”
“You’re most welcome.”

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Upstairs, in Ayra’s room, Ibtihaj put the last things in order for the little
bridal shower she’d decided to throw because Ayra deserved it. In another
room, Salama cried quietly in Falilat’s embrace, mentally going through
every memory she’d shared with her daughter ever since the little one was
put in her arms on the day she was born.
At the Adeola home, Muhsin sat with Al-Amin in the living room, blinking
back his tears. In Monwict, in the room he’d occupied growing up, Ibrahim
scrolled through the new pictures on his phone; pictures of Ayra at the
henna party which Anneth and Bella had secretly taken and sent to him.
When he got to the last photo which was of her laughing, he stared at it for
a long minute before he sighed and put his phone to sleep. He then put it
on the stool beside the armchair he occupied before looking towards the
headless mannequin that held his outfits for the wedding.
As he stared at them, gratitude bloomed in his chest; he was so, so grateful
that everything had fallen into place. He couldn’t wait to be married.

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13
The clock read 3:51AM when Ayra slipped out of bed, being careful enough
to not wake Ibtihaj. The mini bridal shower which had only the both of
them in attendance had ended at exactly 2AM so Ayra ran on barely two
hours of sleep but she didn’t mind. She was finally getting married so there
was nothing better.
Dressed in one of the cotton pyjama sets she wasn’t taking to the new
home she’d share with Ibrahim, she stepped into the bathroom and
proceeded to make wudhoo. The marble topped vanity was unusually bare
and the rack only held two bathrobes and two towels; one for her and the
other for her best friend. Everything else was gone and she knew that once
the wedding was over, get family would only put in the essentials alongside
mini bottles of whatever was needed for when she ever wanted to come
home to spend the night or a weekend.
When she finished, she took in her reflection while wearing a small smile on
her face. Her hair was loosely packed back with curled tendrils framing her
face. Her skin glowed even better under the bright lighting of the bathroom
space. Her dimples were as deep as ever and although she had dark circles,
her eyes were brighter than they’d ever been. She was the perfect definition
of an excited, happy, and content bride and she loved it with all of her
heart. She knew the nerves were going to return in a few hours but like
she’d been telling herself, they were for greater good.
Once she left the bathroom, she spread out her prayer mat and then put on
a hijab. She prayed Tahajjud and elongated her last sujood, thanking Allah
repeatedly for giving her the one thing she’d always wanted and then
praying for her and Ibrahim to always be happy. She prayed for her parents
to not miss her too much and to have fun like the teenagers they once were.
She prayed for Ibtihaj and her parents – Falilat and Al-Amin – to always be
happy and blessed as they’d done so much for her. She prayed for the
Hexad squad too; for them to always be friends and for Allah to bless them
as they’d been the ones to help bring the wedding ideas she had to life
alongside every other vendor. She then prayed for the Fahads to be loving,
welcoming, and perfect; just like she’d always imagined them to be. She
ended the Duas by asking Allah to make the wedding ceremonies go
seamlessly just like the henna party had gone. She didn’t want anything to
wrong.
By the time she completed the entire prayer, it was almost 4:30AM and
Ibtihaj was still fast asleep with glitter on her cheeks and a letter B shaped
balloon on the left side of her head. Smiling at the sight, Ayra removed her
hijab and folded her prayer mat. She put both aside and then put on her

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slippers before leaving the room as quietly as possible. The house, once she
was out of her room, was buzzing and there was so much going on. Last
minute fixtures were put in place under the professional eyes of Iris and
Kim, and then there were the aromas that came together as one heavenly
scent.
Overnight, the duplex had been decorated with a lot of flowers in shapes
and colours, string lights, and drapes. The railings of the stairs and the
upper floor now had flowers on them, string lights in-between. Ayra knew
if she headed down she’d be unable to recognise both living rooms. The
Nikkah was to take place in the main living room and then she and Ibrahim
would move to the second living room for photos. As excited as she was to
see what it looked like now that both spaces were decorated, she had
something to do first.
So she walked forward until she got to her parents’ room door. Knocking
once, she let herself in and smiled at the sight. Muhsin was putting up his
ironed outfits for the day while Salama burned incense in front of Ayra’s
gown. Both of them smiled back at her and Salama put the burner away
before she fully faced her daughter.
“The bride is finally awake.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Ummi.” Ayra crossed the space between them and
gladly stepped into the older one’s embrace. “I barely slept though.”
Salama, who wore a similar pyjama set and had her hair packed the same
way as her daughter, smiled a little wider and hugged her daughter a little
tighter. “That’s normal. It’s nothing little make-up can’t fix. Is Ibty still
asleep?”
“Yep. The bridal shower, if we can even call it that, was crazy and we
laughed, cried, and maybe screamed a little. Seeing how busy the house is, I
doubt we were heard.”
Muhsin chuckled, joining the hug. “I heard you both when I returned from
Al-Amin’s place but I knew better than to try and step in.”
Ayra laughed and Salama did too. They stayed there, hugging and soaking it
all in. Ayra then swallowed softly. “I’ll be leaving the house today. It won’t
be the same way I’ve left every other day.”
Salama told herself not to cry. “How do you feel about it?”
“Happy. Genuinely happy because I get the happy ever after I’ve always
wanted…But then again, it’s a little sad because this is a home I’ve known

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all my life and now I’m going to another one. I won’t be able to just walk a
few steps and come in here to annoy you anymore.”
Muhsin laughed breathily, trying to rein his tears back. “Salama, I told you
that’s what she was going to miss.”
Salama laughed too. “You really did.”
With a soft sigh, Ayra broke the hug and stepped back so she could look at
them at the same time. She smiled warmly. “I want you to know that I’m
always going to be grateful for the fact that Allah gave you two to me as my
parents. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother and father. You’ve loved
me with all you had since I was little and I want you to know I appreciate it,
all of it.”
Muhsin and Salama could only stare, both trying so hard to not burst into
tears. Ayra blinked her own tears back as they surfaced and continued. “I
want you to also know that I’m still going to be your little Leilani. I’m still
going to call and annoy you both and I’m still going to come here to make a
scene when my own home gets too boring. You can’t get rid of me so
easily.”
They laughed, nodding. Ayra grinned and a tear slipped which she hastily
wiped away with the back of her hand. “And I’m so grateful that you two
trusted me. Even when you didn’t want me to get hurt because of how
huge my feelings were for Ibrahim, you never once made snarky comments
or made me feel awful about what I felt. I really appreciate that, Ummi and
Baba, and I appreciate it more that you both have been with me every step
of the way.”
She began to cry and that was her parents’ tipping point. She sniffled. “I
love you both so, so much and In Shaa Allah, I’m always going to. If you
ever need anything, please do not hesitate to call me. You’ve been there for
me all my life so let me be there for you now.”
Both Salama and Muhsin nodded, tears streaming down their cheeks. Ayra
sniffled again. “And I can assure you that if things get too hard for me, I
will call you both, and if I need a break, I will come home. Like I said
before, I’m still your little Leilani. That’s never going to change In Shaa
Allah.”
Salama sniffled. “You’re all grown up now. God, I still remember how you
wailed in the delivery room.” She choked on a sob. “You’re not so little
anymore.”
Ayra’s laugh was watery. “Ummi, seriously…”

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Muhsin laughed too and then he opened up his arms. “Come here, Ayra.”
She hugged him and Salama hugged them. Both of them told Ayra how
much they loved her and how the doors were always open for her, no
matter the day and time. Ayra closed her eyes, soaking it all in, and sincerely
told them that she loved them both too. That was never going to change.
♣
The glass welcome sign was placed on the front porch of the Abdulaziz
home, right by the door. It welcomed every single person to the start of
Ayra and Ibrahim’s forever and it was so pretty with the swirly calligraphy
and the faux vine wrapped around it. Some guests took pictures and then
headed in.
Guest favours – medium sized bubble shaped scented candles in
transparent boxes with pink bows – were arranged on the table in the foyer
which had been covered with white linen. Each cute box had ‘A&I’ printed
on it alongside the wedding date with a little thank you message for each
guest present.
Beyond the foyer was the hallway that led deeper into the house and little
arrows pointed in the direction of the main living room. The hallway held a
long table of scrumptious light dishes and drinks; options for guests ranged
from sandwiches all the way to traditional sweets and then tea in different
flavours all the way to fruit juices and virgin punches. There were also
disposable plates, spoons, forks, and cups.
The main living room’s furniture was gone and the wall had been draped
with white and baby pink to match the chosen flowers. In the middle of the
wide space was a white rug on which sat the floral Nikkah partition with
cushions for Ayra, the officiator, and Ibrahim. The guests also had cushions
which were arranged orderly; the men to sit behind Ibrahim and the women
behind Ayra. Flowers lined the borders of the ceiling and also the borders
of the tiled floor. The ACs had been serviced ahead of the Nikkah so they
worked perfectly well, keeping the space cool for every person present.
The kitchen, which only a few people were given access into, held even
more food; all of which had been packaged properly. The second living
room, which guests weren’t allowed into yet, still had most of its furniture
pieces but they’d been rearranged to create more space. Like the main living
room, the walls of the second living room were draped and there were even
more flowers and lights. A floral installation sat in front of one draped wall
and right in front of it was the white ottoman meant for Ayra and Ibrahim.
On both sides of the set up area for the couple were more flowers and
there was a pink draping on the ottoman itself. The position of the couple

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area had been checked with the media team who assured Salama, Iris, and
Kim that the lighting was just perfect.
While guests arrived, showed their invitations, and made themselves
comfortable in the main living room with the nasheeds that softly played,
Ayra got ready in her room with Ibtihaj and a few of her cousins as Anneth
and Bella were yet to arrive despite saying they’d been on their way an hour
ago.
Ibtihaj, dressed in an elegant jade green abaya and a cream veil wrapped
around her head turban style, went on her knees to help Ayra put on her
shoes as the make-up artist made a few touches on the bride’s face. Trying
to not blink too much so as to not smudge her eyeliner, Ayra smiled. “Ibty,
thank you for being the world’s best friend.”
Ibtihaj scoffed. “Get out abeg.” She finished with the right foot and moved
to the left. “This one that Anneth and Bella are still not here.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Let’s just give them some time.”
Satisfied with her work, the make-up artist stepped back and allowed Ayra
take in her reflection. The bride smiled almost immediately. “I look
stunning.”
The artist nodded, letting out a small laugh. “You do. Do you like it or
would you like me to change anything else?”
Ayra shook her head, her smile an inch wider. “No, it’s perfect. Thank
you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Finished with her best-friend’s feet, Ibtihaj moved backwards a little while
still on her knees. “Ayra, stand so that we can see if the heels are
comfortable or if we’ll need to change it for the other ones.”
Ayra easily rose to her feet and she moved her weight from one foot to the
other. “It feels fine.”
Relieved, Ibtihaj stood. “Thank God.” She then slowly took her best friend
in, blinking back tears when she finished. “Olorun mi, na my best friend be
this. God, Ayra, you’re beautiful.”
“After calling me an ugly cow last night?”
“I will beat you o.”
Ayra laughed. “I’m kidding…Thank you, Ibty. You look really beautiful
too.”

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“Ehen na, I had to play the part.” She sniffled. “Turn around, let me adjust
this your headpiece before my mother swears for my destiny. Before she’ll
say that I didn’t learn well when she was teaching me.”
Laughing at the mental image, Ayra turned and did as she was asked. She
smiled at her reflection and took her time taking in every bit of the woman
staring back at her. She was dressed exactly how she wanted; simple but
with a touch of elegance.
Her dress, like she’d always dreamed, was white and it fit in every place. It
had a high neck, long simple sleeves, and a bodice that hugged her upper
body but with the right amount of allowance to allow her comfortably
breathe and stuff her stomach if she wanted to. It – the bodice – had been
hand embroidered with carefully picked out stones which came together to
make vine designs that gathered at the waist and then blended into the tulle
skirt the dress had which flowed to the ground and twirled in a princess-y
way if she did something as simple as a half turn.
Her headpiece was a perfectly tied turban with a rhinestone leaf bridal
headband that ran the length between both her ears. The headband
matched her small pendant earrings. She’d skipped out on the necklace as
the details on her dress would overshadow it. Satisfied with the final look of
the turban, Ibtihaj joined hands with the make-up artist and they attached
the veil which flowed out nicely behind Ayra while her cousins cooed and
took pictures.
Finished, Ibtihaj stepped back and sniffled again. “God, na party I wan
party. Where are all these tears coming from?”
Ayra laughed with the others, turning when the door went open. She
grinned at the two women who gasped with wide eyes. “You’re here.”
Anneth immediately teared up. “Ayra, God…You look…”
Bella finished up the sentence. “Bastardamente bella (bastardly beautiful).”
Ayra blushed, her make-up unable to hide just how rosy her cheeks became.
“Thank you. You two were meant to be here ages ago though.”
Anneth, who was in a blush pink strapless ruffled maxi dress with her hair
in a single braid designed with flower pins, smiled at Ayra’s cousins and
crossed the space between her and the bride, Bella right behind her. “Girl,
my jacket sleeve ripped so I tossed it in the backseat when Bella and I
couldn’t make it work…God, Ayra, you look amazing. Ibty, are you trying
to kill us all?”
Ibtihaj flipped imaginary hair. “I have to slay.”

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Bella nodded, laughing. She was in a dusty rose off-the-shoulder mesh dress
with a thigh high side slit. Her hair was in its wavy glory, some locks
brushed back. “You do.” She then turned back to Ayra. “You look
amazing, Ayra…Oh, before I forget, Serkan says hi. He couldn’t stay
unfortunately but he gave me his gift.”
Ibtihaj and Ayra spoke at the same time. “Is that him?!”
Suddenly bashful, Bella blushed and nodded while Anneth grinned like a
little devil beside her. Seeing how every single person in the room had their
attention piqued, Bella stepped closer to Ibtihaj and Ayra and rapidly
whispered “He has to go to Turkey because his cousin’s not feeling too fine
so I’ll have to introduce you to him via video call sometime, that’s if he
doesn’t end up coming back to Aomi before the year runs out. His name is
Serkan Yilmaz and yes he’s Turkish. That’s all you two need to know for
now.”
Ayra smiled softly, her chest way too warm despite the cool air of the room.
She was grateful. “Thank you, Bella, for trusting us with that information.”
Ibtihaj dramatically made the motion of zipping her mouth shut. “If I say a
word to anyone else about this, make I bend.”
They all laughed and then Anneth took Ayra’s hands in hers. “Come on,
sweetheart. Let’s get you married!”
Ibrahim’s arrival was punctuated with cheers and a few ululations here and
there. Ayra and the squad of women in her room moved to the windows
and they watched as the Fahads got out of the vehicles, led by Fareeda and
Salim who looked picture perfect in traditional wears, in colours that
complemented each other. When the Hexad Squad men – Jalal, Nathaniel,
and Tobi – got out of the second to the last vehicle in the convoy, there
was a collective sharp intake of breaths in Ayra’s room. The men were in
kaftans sewn immaculately in different shades and no one could deny they
looked good as they laughed with the groom who was still in the car.
It took a long minute before Ibrahim stepped out and Ayra realised then
that she needed to pray to survive the day. When she’d asked him to get a
bakht sewn in a shade of grey, she’d known his stylist would deliver. She
just didn’t put it in her head that Ibrahim would be a walking masterpiece.
The bakht – which Ibtihaj never failed to call Agbada because she didn’t see
the need for Atlantica to have a new name for the same style that was
popular in Nigeria – was in a lead grey shade; the inner kaftan with its long
sleeves, the trousers that covered every inch of his legs, and the outer layer
which was the bakht itself were sewn to perfection. The bakht’s embroidery

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and the details on the cap that sat comfortably on his head? Stunning.
Ibrahim had never looked better and Ayra found so much joy in the fact
that he was about to be her husband.
She didn’t hear the others compliment him neither did she laugh with the
others when Anneth and Bella made a show about fanning their faces with
their hands. She didn’t even hear Ibtihaj say that Tobi was acting too cocky
for someone who was “just the best man because he went to go and overdo
his reception outfit”. Ayra stared at the man she was about to get married
to, watching with a smile on her face as he smiled widely – and brightly –
for the cameras and recorders pointed at him, Jalal, Tobi, and Nathaniel.
Once they were led into the house, Ayra stepped back from the window
while the nerves hit in full force. She knew what was coming next but the
soft knock on her door still had her jumping in fright. The door went open
to reveal Salama who was in an abaya like most women but in dove grey.
She smiled at every person as she stepped in, leaving Falilat and some of
Ayra’s aunts in the doorway.
When she stopped in front of her daughter, her smile softened and her eyes
became a little glassy. She was reining her tears in well and she hoped it
stayed that way. Exhaling softly, she smiled a little wider. “Shall we,
Leilani?”
Ayra smiled, pushing her nerves down to the best of her ability. “We shall,
Ummi.”
Everyone present – with a few phones held up – watched (and recorded) as
mother and daughter linked their arms, nearly split images of each other
with beautiful, deep dimples on their cheeks when they smiled. They both
breathed in and out and then they took the steps forward, those in the
doorway clearing the way for them. With each step that took them closer to
where everyone else waited, Ayra told herself to breathe.
After all she was one step closer to her long-time dream.

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13 (Part II)
Ayra’s entrance into the living room had people gasping softly and she
smiled a little with the rosiest of cheeks. Most of those who had a good
view of her were women. Only a few men got a good view and like she’d
already planned, she gave them very little attention.
Salama led her to the other side of the floral partition and Ayra’s heart
decided then to pick up its beating pace as she drilled it into her head that
Ibrahim was right on the other side. Once her daughter was comfortably
seated on the cushion, Salama smiled and stepped back, easily finding her
own cushion which sat beside Falilat’s. Ibtihaj, Bella, Anneth, and Ayra’s
cousins who’d all been up with her easily found their spots and sat as
comfortably as they could.
Breathing in and out, Ayra raised her head. Through the little gap between
the flowers she got a glimpse of Ibrahim and found him staring back at her,
a smile on his face; a smile meant solely for her. Blushing further and being
unable to bring the flutters in her stomach to a stop, Ayra smiled back. The
officiator – an imam at the National Mosque – cleared his throat as he sat,
getting the attention of everyone in the room, including the bride and
groom. Saying Bismillah, he began the ceremony.
Ayra couldn’t remember the one time her heart had beat so fast. She
listened with the galloping organ in her chest as the Imam spoke about the
reason they were gathered and how marriage was a sacred union that bound
two lives together for eternity unless – which he prayed against – something
happened along the line that caused both people involved to separate. His
voice was soothing and it was easy for everyone present to listen. He spoke
about the beauty of a union and how both people involved were to do
everything possible to please each other with Allah’s pleasure as the main
focus in whatever they were doing as one always had to put Allah first, no
matter what.
When he finished, he asked for those giving their children away in marriage.
On Ibrahim’s side, Salim and one of Ibrahim’s uncles – Assad – moved
forward. On Ayra’s side, Muhsin and his brother – Harun – stepped
forward. The imam asked for their consents, especially Muhsin and Harun,
to join Ayra and Ibrahim in matrimony and both sides gave it with firm
nods. Satisfied, the Imam turned to Ibrahim and went on to ask if Ibrahim
if he wanted to take Ayra as his wife; to care for her, to protect her, to be a
shield and a pillar of support for her, to provide for her, to love her, to be
patient with her, to guide her at times when she strayed, and then to forgive
her when she made mistakes.
Ibrahim’s reply echoed in the room. “Yes.”

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Ayra released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Behind her, most
of the women present did the same thing. The Imam then turned to Ayra
and asked her the same thing. She swallowed and nodded, her voice a soft –
but firm – whisper when she replied. “Yes.”
There were more relieved breaths and some whispered Alhamdulillah. The
Imam went on to complete the formalities, advising both Ayra and Ibrahim
as they had stepped into a new phase of their lives. He prayed for the
couple and those present happily said Ameen. The Nikkah certificate was
then signed and with a beautiful smile on her face, Ayra signed last. She
made sure her signature was extra pretty.
She’d barely let go of the pen when a weight was thrown on her and she
nearly fell. She laughed, hugging her best friend back. “Ibty, do you have to
be dramatic right now?”
“I must hug you before you go and hug man.” Ibtihaj tightened her
embrace. “Barakallah, Ayra. May Allah bless your union.”
“Ameen, Ibty. Thank you, for everything.”
“And like I said yesterday, if you forget me because of man, I’ll kill you and
throw you over the bridge leading towards Raven Isle so that the sharks can
feast on your remains and erase every evidence.”
Ayra laughed, pulling back. “Yes ma.” She sensed movement on the other
side of the partition so she pushed Ibtihaj away. “Shoo! Lemme meet my
husband.”
Ibtihaj glared but moved back. “I don’t blame you. Me too I’ll get husband
one day.”
“Until that day comes.”
Ibtihaj opened her mouth to reply but then the floral partition parted and
there Ibrahim was with a dashing smile on his face. As the nasheeds
resumed playing, Ayra found it easy to tune everyone out and focus on the
man who gracefully went on his knees right in front of her. Flashes went
off as cameras and smartphones captured the scene but neither the bride
nor groom cared much as they stared at each other, smiles on both their
faces.
Ibrahim moved even closer, his smile and expression softening. “Ayra.”
Ayra told herself to keep breathing. “Ibrahim.”
He stared at her for a moment longer before he opened his arms. “Come
here please.”

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She didn’t need to be asked twice. She moved from her seating position to
her knees and stepped into the one embrace she’d looked forward to for
years; one she’d tried imagining over and over again. Her imaginations did
no justice to the reality of being hugged by Ibrahim. Strong arms went
around her, holding her against a firm chest and soft fabric. As usual, his
perfume was like a slice of heaven and him burying his face in the crook of
her neck was dizzying but perfect. All of it was perfect.
He held her and she held him, taking in everything she felt at once. She was
on cloud nine, maybe even higher, and there was nothing that could bring
her down. She was sure of it. Her eyes widened and she gasped softly when
he kissed her neck before pulling back, his smile returning as he took her
hands in his, squeezing softly. “Hello, Mrs Fahad.”
She could not hold his gaze for a moment longer so she let her head
bashfully drop while her cheeks got hotter and hotter. “Hi.”
There were teases, there were cheers, and there were prayers. Eventually,
Ayra and Ibrahim rose to their feet and faced the guests who’d come to
celebrate with them. He held her beside him, an arm around her waist; an
arm Ayra did her best to not think too much about. They couldn’t stop
smiling and when they were asked to move to the second living room for
pictures, Ayra let Ibrahim lead the way forward with her hand still in his
while the other hand lifted the hem of her dress just so she wouldn’t trip
and embarrass herself. She knew if she turned around, she’d see Ibtihaj
adjusting the train that flowed out behind her and she was once again
extremely grateful for having Ibtihaj in her life.
Ibrahim blinked as they stepped into the decorated space. “Oh wow…This
is stunning.”
Ayra had to agree with him. “It is.”
He then smiled at her, his eyes brighter than ever. “And you look ethereal,
Ayra. I was too blown away to mention that earlier.”
It was safe to say her heart died and had to be resuscitated. Behind them,
Ibtihaj hissed. “Abeg some of us are still single o.”
They laughed, finding their places when the media team stepped in. Ayra sat
beside Ibrahim and they smiled for the photos that were taken, each one
turning out better than the last. Those present couldn’t deny that they were
a beautiful couple, especially when seated side by side in front of the floral
backdrop that fit the drapes and flowers arranged on both sides of the
ottoman.

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There were so many hugs, so many kisses on the cheeks, so many goodwill
messages, and so many prayers. The Hexad Squad then all got together –
with Ibtihaj – for pictures with the new couple, laughing at the end of the
photo session when Ibtihaj threatened to murder Tobi in cold blood if he
tried to put his arm around her again.
Anneth then hugged Ayra. “Welcome, officially, to the squad! I mean, the
name can’t change for a lot of reasons but welcome.”
Ayra laughed, nodding over the other’s shoulder. “I understand, Anneth.”
She then pulled back. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Oh please. It’s nothing.” Anneth then grinned and hugged Ibrahim who
laughed and hugged her back. “Engineer Fahad, you’re married.”
Ibrahim laughed again. “I am!”
Ibrahim hugged his female friends; Ayra had always known that because it
was something they did publicly regardless of the number of cameras
pointed their way. However, it had taken some getting used to experiencing
it in person and one thing she was grateful for was how Ibrahim never
pushed physical touches on her; just the little innocent ones he stole here
and there. Besides, she trusted him so all was fine.
She snapped out of her head when Bella hugged her, the Italian squeezing
the life out of her. “Congratulazioni! I’m so happy!” She then pulled back, her
smile wide. “Like Anneth said, welcome to the squad. I know we’ve had fun
all this time but we’re about to have more fun.”
Ayra smiled widely too. “I look forward to it. Thank you so much, Bella.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.” She then stepped forward to whisper “By the door,
he’s wearing black.”
Not understanding, Ayra turned and her eyes widened when it clicked.
Bella’s lover, Serkan Yilmaz – who looked regal in a simple black Turkish
sherwani – raised the glass of fruit punch in his hand as a toast, shot her a
two finger salute, winked at Bella, and then he was gone; as though he’d
never been there. Although she’d only seen him for less than a minute, Ayra
had to say it.
“Your man is fine!”
Bella giggled like a lovesick teen, bringing a hand to her mouth. “Tell me
about it. Don’t let Ibrahim kill me please. He can be very jealous.”

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Thankfully, Ibrahim was being kept occupied by the men and Anneth so
Ayra gave Bella her full attention. “I thought you said he wasn’t going to
make it.”
“He said his flight was delayed so he turned around before he left Aomi. He
said the least he could do was attend the Nikkah and I’m glad he did. I’m
glad you got to meet him too. Well, you just saw him but still.”
“Ibty didn’t meet him though.” Ayra knew her best friend was somewhere
in the crowd. “She’ll flip.”
Bella laughed. “She will. I’ll introduce her to Serkan soon.”
“Well, I look forward to a proper introduction and –”
Ibrahim joined them, easily pulling Ayra to him as though it was something
he’d done all his life. “Don’t talk about another man when I’m here. Ayra,
we literally just got married.”
She blushed furiously. “It just happened.”
Bella just rolled her eyes and then gave Ibrahim a half hug. “Engineer
Fahad, you’re married! Oh, I’m so going to have a camera ready whenever
we’re together. After all, the world’s yet to see the side of you that’s
whipped for your wife.”
“Bella, I swear to God –”
Their parents joined them so the conversation came to an abrupt close.
Salama teared up as she offered her congratulations and Ibrahim hugged
her, patting her back with a warm smile until she was calmer. Just like his
son hugged, Salim held Ayra to his chest and stated that he was so glad she
was officially his daughter too. Fareeda’s hug was warm and she promised
Ayra that being a new member of the Fahad family was going to be nothing
short of pleasant. The Fahads present were cordial and Ayra was glad.
When Zuhr came by, the group began to disperse, knowing they were going
to meet in a few hours at the Aomi International Conference Centre for the
reception after which Ayra would be conveyed to her new home where
Ibrahim would meet her waiting for him.
Ibrahim’s hand found his wife’s before he faced her. His smile was
beautiful. “I’ll see you later?”
She nodded, smiling back and loving how her hand fit in his. “In Shaa
Allah.”

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In a corner of the room, Tobi yelped as Ibtihaj smacked his back. Ibrahim
chuckled, not once looking away from the woman he married. “You don’t
think they’ll kill themselves tonight, right?”
Ayra laughed. “Ibty loves her reputation but if Tobi decides he wants to be
unfortunate, there’s only so much I can do.”
Ibrahim smiled a little wider. “We’ll keep them apart.”
“Yeah,” Ayra felt drunk on everything that was Ibrahim Fahad. “We will.”
A near minute passed before he leaned in and kissed the corner of her
mouth, sending her heart to the ICU so it could be resuscitated once again.
“Stay safe, Ayra.”
“You too.” She told herself to keep breathing as he took a small step back.
“I love you.”
His smile turned into a smirk. “Me too, sweetheart. What else is there to
feel?”
♣
The security at the Aomi International Conference Centre was as tight as it
could be. Apart from the fact that there were quite a number of notable
individuals attending the wedding reception such as the president of
Atlantica, the Fahads had made it quite clear that nothing was to go wrong.
The cars that drove into the venue had their IVs checked and confirmed
before they were led to designated parking spots to prevent minor accidents
or avoidable traffic when the event came to an end. Once guests left their
cars, ascended the front steps of the conference centre, and passed through
the main doors, they stepped into the fairytale beauty that was the wedding
reception of Ayra and Ibrahim. Like every other event, Salama, Kim and
Iris had outdone themselves and every single person was stunned.
The extremely wide hallway that stretched from the main doors of the
conference centre to the double doors of the main hall was covered with a
beige rug that was extremely soft underneath the feet of guests. Wide and
tall arches stood steadily with flowers on them and huge light balls between
them, lighting up the path to the hall itself.
Beyond the double doors that granted entrance into the main hall was the
photo area where a floral shop was created on one side and a reflective cube
with walled mirrors on the other. Photographers and videographers present
worked their magic and all of it was beautiful. Once their photos had been
taken, guests were allowed to check the seating chart put up and then go
past the photo area.

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What was a plain hall on a normal day with a thick carpeted floor had been
turned into a slice of paradise, divided into two by the vinyl covered isle
that shone underneath the lights. Drapes which were slightly skirted
covered the walls and also covered the ceiling where the lights were
mounted, converging in the very middle where the extremely wide circular
floral arrangement with hanging lights and mini chandeliers suspended
perfectly; hanging balanced all around. The dance floor, a wide circle, was
directly underneath the suspended flowers and lights.
On both sides of the aisle – and the dance floor – were round tables with
reflective tops and thick, sturdy legs; some tables bigger than others and
those at the back sitting on the elevated stairs platform so the guests placed
there could get a good view of everything that happened without any
inconveniences. The smallest tables had six cushioned chairs with gold legs
around them while the biggest tables took as many as twenty chairs
comfortably with more than enough space for each guest to move around
as much as they wanted to; something Salama loved so much. Every table
had decorations in the middle; expertly arranged flowers mostly in pink
shades and touches of green, tall candle holders with candles that were lit,
and then some had little flute vases that held double or triple flowers in
front of one chair or the other.
The dinnerware was set immaculately in front of each chair, napkins
triangularly folded on the top of each dinner set with each guest having one
glass and one champagne flute, and a mini sealed jug filled with chilled
water; a favour from one of Aomi’s best bottling companies. Each guest
had a menu too, local and intercontinental dishes printed clearly for them to
pick from.
Then there was the raised platform with its stairs for Ibrahim and Ayra. Six
stairs in the first flight led to the landing where the two-seater settee sofa sat
with its curved arm and its cushions alongside the coffee table. Beyond the
landing was another flight of six steps and then the LED walls that served
as the backdrop, alternating between soft colours and patterns. The middle
wall hid the entrance door for Ayra and Ibrahim.
On both sides of the entire raised platform were faux pillars with even
more flowers and wall mounted lights that turned from side to side. The
cake table sat on the right side of the platform, the six tiered cake displayed
in all its glory. On the left of the platform, working in their designated
areas, were the DJ and the technical crew who ensured everything flowed
seamlessly.
Guests easily found their seats and those who didn’t easily find theirs
turned to the suited assistants for help. Each person was dressed to

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elegantly outshine the other. There had been no stated dress or colour code
so every person wore what they thought was best, English wears and
traditional wears blending like paint on a canvas. It was way too easy to
point out the Fahads as the dresses, suits, shoes, and jewellery pieces they
adorned flaunted just how wealthy they were and how wealthy they’d always
been. They all knew better than to try to make a scene. It was not going to
end well, at all.
The hall filled quite easily and there was lovely chatter as people met long-
time friends and made introductions while songs calmly played. Those who
did not see the need for little talk simply sat and did one thing or the other
to while away time. It wasn’t long before the Atlantican President arrived
with his wife, the Vice-President and his wife, alongside a few ministers.
Fareeda and Salim were the ones to welcome them in and lead them
towards the table they were to share, leaving the seats reserved for Muhsin,
Salama, Falilat, and Al-Amin empty as they were yet to arrive due to a little
mishap at the house after the Nikkah.
Once the presidential entourage was seated alongside the parents of the
groom, the lights dimmed while a single spotlight shone brightly on the
man who now stood on his designated stage. He smiled, dressed in a
midnight black three piece suit, and then he brought the microphone he
held in one hand to his mouth while his other hand, which held the
programme cards, stayed behind him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, do permit me to welcome you to the wedding
reception of Ayra and Ibrahim Fahad. My name is Ali Farsi and I’ll be your
host for tonight.”
Outside, the groom’s entourage of heavily tinted vehicles arrived and were
directed to the back entrance. In the only limo in the entourage, Ibrahim
adjusted his cufflinks while breathing in and out, praying and hoping the
event went well.
At Haven Estate, Ayra held up the hem of her dress as she descended the
stairs with her female entourage behind her led by none other than Ibtihaj
who looked so much like her mother in the iro and off-shouldered buba
sewn out of nectar motif komole fabric in the honey-hazel brown shade, her
gele tied to immaculate perfection with silver jewellery adorning her ears,
neck and wrists while silver heels adorned both her feet. When they got to
the foyer, Ayra smiled at her parents and Ibtihaj’s, her heart warming when
she saw just how proud they looked.
Muhsin stepped forward, holding out his arm while Falilat sang Yoruba
praises for both her daughter and Ayra. “Shall we, Leilani?”

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Ayra, smiling wider, nodded and linked her arm with his. “We shall, Baba.”
“You look beautiful, Ayra.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He laughed. “I had to look the part.” He turned to his wife and held out his
other arm which she easily linked hers with. “I couldn’t let anyone outshine
my wife and I.”
Salama rolled her eyes although colour stained her cheeks. “Please let’s go.”
Both Ayra and Muhsin laughed but did as she asked. Behind them, Ibtihaj
linked her arms with her parents’ and they followed suit. Behind them were
Anneth and Bella who both looked stunning in crepe trumpet gowns that
had cowl-necks, wide straps and front slits that went above the knees, and
silver heels on both their feet with silver jewellery on their ears and wrists.
Only Anneth wore a necklace while Bella’s neck stayed bare, beautiful
collarbones on full display. While Bella’s hair was a sleek ponytail with a
lock left to fall forward and frame the left side of her face, Anneth’s was in
a sleek classic chignon with a middle parting. Their make-ups, as always,
were flawless and they were going to turn heads; everyone knew that.
They got into their designated vehicles and Ayra breathed in and out.
Ibtihaj, who was to ride with her best friend, ensured her parents were
comfortable in their car before she got in with Ayra. She took Ayra’s hand
and smiled, squeezing warmly. “Let’s finish this with a bang.”
Ayra grinned, nodding. “Let’s do that.”
“And if anyone tries anything funny, tell me. Thunder will strike them.”
Ayra laughed and nodded again. “Yes ma’am.”
“I love you, Ayra.”
“I love you too.”

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14
When the bridal entourage arrived at the conference centre, the cars were
led to the parking area where the groom’s entourage waited with the groom
himself. Apart from Tobi who wore a cream coloured agbada (bakht) and its
cap, every other male was in a suit; cream shawl lapelled tux suits, black
classic oxford shirts tucked into the bands of their black trousers, bow ties,
shining black and brown shoes, and watches alongside other jewellery
pieces which cost more than people liked to think about unless you were in
the friendship circle.
The men smiled when those in the vehicles got out. There were hugs and
complements. Ibrahim was the one who opened Ayra’s door and he smiled
lazily as he took her all in, a swirl of emotions in his dark eyes. He then
leaned forward. “You look dashing.”
Ayra wanted her cheeks to stop being so hot but it was hard. She smiled
back at him, appearing calm and composed while her body had flutters
everywhere. “And you look amazing. This definitely beats every image I
had.”
“So it’s good enough?”
“It’s perfect, Ibrahim. It’s perfect and it fits you.”
He leaned in even further, doing more damage to her heart with his face
right in front of hers. “And you should know that this dress won’t look
good on someone who isn’t you. You’re literally the main star tonight,
Ayra.”
Her cheeks got darker and while she was tempted to avert her gaze, she
chose to stubbornly keep her eyes on his. Ibtihaj cleared her throat very
loudly. “Abeg some of us that are single are still here o.”
Ayra’s eyes widened as she’d actually forgotten that Ibtihaj was right beside
her while Ibrahim laughed, looking away from his wife. He smiled warmly
at the other woman. “Hello, Ibty.”
She grinned. “Hi. You look really good.”
“Not as good as you though.”
Ibtihaj’s smile turned smug. “It’s me, of course. Don’t worry, I’ll let you
and everyone else admire my mother’s work of art by doing three-sixty
when we get down. We are getting down now abi?”
He nodded. “We are.” Ibrahim then turned back to Ayra and held out a
hand. “Mrs Fahad, shall we?”

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Ayra was slowly turning to mush. She nodded, putting her hand in his.
“Sure.”
He helped her down and their friends cheered like the excited people they
were. Ayra and Ibtihaj’s families told them they’d be inside and once Ayra,
Ibtihaj, and the others nodded, they said goodbyes and headed in. Bella
whipped out a Polaroid camera from her bag and held it up at Ayra and
Ibrahim.
“Say cheese, Engineer and Mrs Fahad.”
She didn’t have to ask them twice. Ibrahim easily wrapped a steady arm
around Ayra’s waist, pulling her close to him, and they both shot wide
sincere smiles at the camera; a perfect moment Bella captured.
Ibrahim’s suit was charcoal black; a mushroom patterned jacquard jacket
with notch lapels where silver accessories sat comfortably. His inner shirt –
a classic Oxford just like his friends – was white with black buttons and his
bowtie sat nicely at the collar. The black trousers covered every inch of his
long legs and black leather Balmoral ankle high boots covered his socked
feet, not one single spec of dirt on the shoes exterior. His cufflinks were
silver and they matched his watch and the single ring he wore; a ring that
would complement the one he was yet to give her.
Ayra, on the other hand, was in the razzmic berry shade of purple and
silver. Her dress – a tulle ball gown – was the most sophisticated one she’d
worn since the wedding festivities began. The neck was high and the sleeves
were long. There was a thin band around the waist and then the tulle skirt
puffed out and flowed to her feet. The dress was intricately beaded and
stoned and there was no doubt she was going to be so pretty underneath
the lights of the hall. Her headpiece was tied the same way as the one she’d
worn for the Nikkah but instead of white, this was silver and on it was a
crystal double bridal headband. Her earrings were simple teardrops and she
wore no necklace while bracelets adorned both wrists and simple block
heeled shoes were on her feet.
Bella grinned at the polaroid that was printed immediately. “This is
beautiful. Maybe I should be a photographer tonight.”
Nathaniel laughed, his arm around Anneth’s waist. “Maybe you should. I’m
sure you’ll have a lot of fun.”
“Fuck you.”
A glare from Ibtihaj stopped Tobi from approaching her and he smiled
widely. “Ibty, come on. We’re the next important people after the bride and
groom.”

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“Don’t allow me slap you.”
Iris, thankfully, joined them before things could escalate and she led them
to a waiting room where the photo team waited to capture Ayra and
Ibrahim as they’d been unable to do that before both the bride and groom
left their respective houses. The squad and Ibtihaj were mean teasers which
made Ibrahim and Ayra laugh a lot as they followed the instructions the
photographers provided for one position or the other.
It wasn’t long before Kim joined Iris and split the group into two, Iris
leading Ayra and Ibrahim to the back of the LED wall that sat behind the
raised platform stage meant for the both of them while Kim led Tobi,
Ibtihaj, Jalal, Bella, Nathaniel, and Anneth to the hall’s main doors where
they were to come in from. Guests who arrived at that moment were
directed to the side doors as the programme had officially begun with the
Vice President of the country giving the opening prayer.
The squad and Ibtihaj – the couple’s squad as they called themselves – took
their places in twos. Anneth and Nathaniel were at the front, Jalal and Bella
behind them, and then Tobi and Ibtihaj at the rear. Jalal adjusted Bella’s
strap at her request before he turned to give Ibtihaj a cheeky smile.
“You look really, really good, Ibty.”
She did a twirl for him, showing him and the others just how beautiful her
outfit was. “Thank you, thank you. If you want something like this, do
patronise my mother. She sews unisex outfits so you’re in safe hands.”
Tobi appeared wounded. “Why won’t you smile at me like that?”
Her smile disappeared and she folded her arms. “Come, why are you
obsessed with me? Did you see me in your dream?”
Anneth and her husband were trying to not laugh and were failing. Bella
snorted. “Ask him please.”
Jalal shook his head, chuckling. “You don’t want to know the answer to
that question, Ibty.”
Tobi smirked, adjusting the arms of his agbada. “Why? Do you want to
appear in my dreams?”
Ibtihaj had never looked so irritated. “Olorun ma je! Mo ta ika e da nu. (God
forbid. I rebuke it).”
It was hard for the others – who had picked up bits of Yoruba from the
bickers – to not laugh at that and they knew better than to not do so quietly

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as their entrance was coming up. Tobi’s smirk did not disappear. “Do you
know how many people would die to have me dream about them?”
“Why won’t they die for you to dream about them when they don’t have
sense?” She rolled her eyes and faced forward. “I kept praying for Jalal to
be my partner but you just had to go and copy me.”
Jalal grinned at her. “There’s always going to be another party.”
She grinned back. “Exactly!”
Tobi faced forward, now smiling. “And I’ll be there to ruin your plans.
You’ve not seen anything.”
Ibtihaj ignored him and kept smiling at Jalal who chuckled and turned
around. Slightly out of breath, Bella, Nathaniel and Anneth straightened
and regained composure as the officiator welcomed them in. Tyra
Chantey’s Sweet Talk began to play and guests looked towards the main
doors that went open, a moment passing before Anneth and Nathaniel
stepped in together.
Behind the LED wall where they were to walk in from, Ayra inhaled and
exhaled nervously. She looked down when Ibrahim laced his fingers with
hers, squeezing ever so softy. She raised her head and he smiled at her.
“Nervous?”
She did not even bother to deny it. She nodded. “Very.”
He squeezed her hand again, his smile widening by the tiniest inch. “We’ll
be fine. We’ll just go out there and end everything well.”
“You don’t seem nervous.”
“I am actually.” He confessed. “I just know how to hide it. It’s come from
years of practice. I’m not a fan of crowds but it’s a part of the work that I
unfortunately can’t do without.”
She blurted out the first thing that came to her head. “You’re talking more
these days, Ibrahim.”
“Only with you and the squad, but mainly with only you. I guess love does
that to someone.”
The nervousness disappeared and she smiled while her heart danced and
her cheeks darkened, her dimples so, so deep. She fell even more in love
with him, further solidifying the fact that when it came to Ibrahim Fahad,
she was a woman hopelessly in love. Now, though, she was not just any
other woman; she was his wife and it brought her great joy.

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As the officiator announced that they were about to welcome the bride and
groom, Ibrahim stepped forward, tipped Ayra’s chin up and planted a soft –
and very chaste – kiss on her lips, pulling back before she could do anything
apart from widen her eyes. He stared at her lips which were a pale pink
lined with a darker pink shade for a moment longer than what was safe for
her heart before he brought his eyes back to hers. His dark eyes seemed a
little darker and Ayra swallowed the small lump in her throat.
“Let’s get this ceremony over with.” He said quietly, his voice unusually
deep. “And then we’ll get back to that. Deal?”
Maximillian’s Beautiful Scars began to play, signifying their entrance, and
Ayra nodded once. She barely heard her own voice as the led wall slid to
the side, revealing them bit by bit. “Deal.”
Smiling and stealing one more kiss, Ibrahim faced forward and Ayra pulled
herself in record time as they were fully revealed to the sea of guests in the
bright hall. Hand in hand, she and Ibrahim shared small smiles and then
they stepped out of the shadows, walking in sync. The sparklers on both
sides of the platform went off as they ascended the stairs, Ibrahim being
extra careful with his wife so she didn’t trip over her dress’s hem. Ayra
glowed so beautifully underneath all the lights and a lot of people present
took photos.
Once they got to the bottom of the stairs, Ayra linked her arm with
Ibrahim’s and they headed to the dance floor together, smiling at guests
who sat on both sides. The song was repeated and in the middle of the
entire hall – with the lights and dry ice machines working their magic –
Ayra and Ibrahim swayed together with their gazes locked and smiles on
their faces. The cameras never stopped flashing and most guests never
stopped smiling.
When the dance ended, Ibrahim led Ayra back to the raised platform while
the couple squad found their reserved table, Ibtihaj and Tobi getting the
most attention which Tobi bragged about until Ibtihaj got fed up and
slapped him with her feathered fan. He shut his mouth but he didn’t stop
smirking. Ibtihaj, for her own peace and enjoyment, ignored him and went
into full owambe mood. On the loveseat, Ibrahim and Ayra sat comfortably
with her hand held securely in his.
The event kicked off after that. Speeches – kept short for time’s sake –
were presented, most making guests laugh while some – like Ibtihaj’s and
Muhsin’s – made guests tear up. Other speeches – such as the President’s –
left people awed as he spoke with captivating eloquence. Drinks were
served alongside starters, soft instrumental pieces playing through the

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speakers. Games came next and the squad went all out, keeping guests and
the couple entertained as they went neck to neck, acting as though they
didn’t know each other before the event as competitive sides came out. Jalal
emerged the winner, earning himself an all paid trip to Lisbon courtesy of
Ibrahim. Ibtihaj was a sore looser but she brightened when she was
presented her gift as the runner-up; a portable camera and its photo printer.
Ayra faced her husband. “Did you know she was going to come second?”
Ibrahim nodded, not looking away from the middle of the hall where
Ibtihaj stuck her tongue out at Tobi who simply shook his head and turned
away. “I had an idea. It was either going to be her or Anneth. Bella doesn’t
like to stress much and Nathaniel loves his wife too much to not let her
win. Tobi is very useless when it comes to such.”
Ayra laughed. “You’re such a bad friend.”
He smiled nicely. “It’s the truth.”
The couple game came next, to prove who knew the other person better,
and Ayra won proudly to the amazement of so many present as they
couldn’t wrap their heads around just how much information she had about
Ibrahim. Not caring about the hundreds of eyes on them, Ibrahim kissed
his wife’s cheek. “I tell everyone who’s willing to listen that no one knows
me as good as you do but they tell me I’m just whipped. Thanks for
proving them wrong.”
Ayra was floating on genuine happy clouds. “You’re welcome!”
The cake cutting came next as guests were served the main dishes. Ayra and
Ibrahim chose to skip the cliché act of feeding each other and no one held
it against them. It wasn’t long before Ibrahim once again led Ayra to the
dance floor for their dance. The radio edit of Justin Timberlake’s Mirrors
played and Ibrahim held both of Ayra’s hands as they swayed gently, the
world around them fading into nothingness as time froze with only that
moment being important.
“Still nervous, sweetheart?” he asked.
Ayra shook her head, her eyes shining so brightly. “Nope. I feel really
happy right now and I’m content too. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“I’m right where I want to be too.”
Her chest was a garden for flowers of warmth. “Yeah?”
He nodded, the lights around them only highlighting just how handsome he
was. “Yeah. I’m married to a beautifully amazing woman and I’m dancing

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with her while the world watches. It can’t get better than that, Ayra. So yes,
I am right where I want to be. I’m always where I want to be when I’m with
you.”
“If you keep going like that, people won’t be able to differentiate me from
the tomatoes on their plates.”
He laughed, throwing his head back while she fell deeper and deeper. “God,
Ayra.” His laugh died to a smile. “I don’t care about them. I love it a lot
when you blush. It makes you even beautiful and then there are your
dimples. God!”
Ayra was melting. “Ibrahim, please!”
He could only laugh again. Their bubble burst when guests were allowed to
join them and the songs slowly moved from the calm ones Ayra and
Ibrahim had picked to more upbeat ones that Tobi and Ibtihaj had gladly
picked out. It had infuriated Ibtihaj so much that Tobi had good taste in
songs and she purposely didn’t tell him that his choices were good so that
“his already big head would not blow”. Ayra laughed over it for the entire
day.
Heels were swapped for flats and jackets were removed alongside ties as
they let loose, not caring about the people present and those who kept up
with the event online through the pictures and videos uploaded. One by
one, guests – especially the older ones – began to say their goodbyes. Gifts
were dropped in a particular room in the hall and every person was gifted a
bag of guest favours Ayra had taken time to pick out.
The music was paused briefly for Jalal’s vote of thanks on Ibrahim’s behalf
and Ibtihaj’s closing duas. When the songs came back, they were even
louder and Ibtihaj was at the forefront of the craze. Money guns were
pulled out and crisp notes in diverse currencies filled the air, littering the
vinyl covered floor while the lights alternated between colours at a rapid
speed with more sparklers going off.
Eventually things winded down and slowly the event came to an end.
Ibrahim led a laughing Ayra out, the entire squad right behind. Their
excitement still high as they all knew what came next. Ibrahim helped Ayra
into the car she’d come in and on the other side, Jalal was helping Ibtihaj in.
Not caring about anything, Ibrahim kissed Ayra and the people they loved
so much cheered which led to Ayra’s cheeks becoming so hot. Smiling
against her lips, Ibrahim pulled back.
“I’ll see you soon, Ayra?”
She nodded, dizzy. “In Shaa Allah.”

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“Don’t kill my heart the way you’ve done throughout today.”
She laughed. “I won’t.”
“Love you, more than you know.”
Her heart flipped and screeched and all she could do was stare at him.
Smiling so dashingly, he stepped back and shut the door, waving at her as
the car began to move forward. Dazed, Ayra turned in her seat so she fully
faced forward. Beside her, Ibtihaj snickered. “Wahala for who is not in love
o.”
At the parking lot they were leaving behind, Ibrahim shielded himself as his
friends hit him, teasing him with all they had.
♣
Ayra’s box was merlot red and the driver easily lifted it off the ground and
placed it in the booth of the Hyundai Palisade with tinted glasses and
covered number plates. Isha had long been prayed and the Abdulazizs were
saying goodbye to their daughter as she was to be conveyed to her new
home where she would wait alone for her husband.
Ayra, who was in a simple cream A-line dress with balloon sleeves and a
cape with a deep hood, sniffled before hugging Salama. The older one
wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter, sniffling.
“I love you, Leilani. I want you to never doubt that, okay?”
Ayra blinked back a fresh wave of tears. “Okay.”
“And if anything comes up, like we’ve told you since the wedding
preparations began, do not hesitate to call. These doors will always be open
for you, I promise.”
Ayra didn’t trust herself to not break down if she spoke so she simply
hugged her mother for a minute longer before pulling back and moving on
to hug Muhsin. His words were similar to Salama’s and he wiped away his
daughter’s tears when they slipped. Falilat’s hug and prayers tipped Ayra
dangerously over the edge and she ended up crying a little before pulling
back.
Al-Amin smiled and squeezed her shoulders gently. “Be safe, Ayra. May you
always be happy.”
Ayra sniffled. “Ameen.”
She hugged her uncles, cousins, and aunts. She then faced Ibtihaj who had
changed into a forest green boubou, the accompanying veil draped loosely
over her head. Ibtihaj swallowed, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I want

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to follow you sha, but these Fahad women look like they can beat me and
I’m too emotional to try and fight.”
Ayra let out a watery laugh. “You’re not serious.” She opened up her arms.
“Come here, Ibty.”
Ibtihaj hugged her to near extent of bone crushing. The Yoruba female
sniffled over her best friend’s shoulder. “Text me when you get there.”
“I will.”
“And I’ll call you first thing tomorrow morning. Let me not go and disturb
whatever Oga Ibrahim has in store for both of you.”
Ayra’s stomach dipped slightly. “You’re mad.”
Ibtihaj managed to snicker. “You never see anything.” She then sniffled. “I
love you, Ayra. And I am going to continuously remind you that I’m here
for you. In Shaa Allah I’ll always be here for you.” She then pulled back,
smiling. “And when I find the man that can settle with me that is a werey,
you better be ready to rock komole and dance o because all the things I did
for you today cannot be in vain.”
Ayra laughed again. “Let’s meet him first.” She hugged Ibtihaj once more.
“I love you, Ibty.”
“I love you too.”
Minutes later, Ayra’s hood was drawn over her head and two of Ibrahim’s
aunts led her out of the house and into one of the awaiting vehicles. It
wasn’t long before the vehicles were moving, taking Ayra from the house
she’d lived in all her life to one she was going to be living for the rest of her
life. The ride was quiet and she focused on breathing in and out. Journalists
had stationed themselves in front of The Oasis so cameras flashed
continuously as the cars found their way to the parking lot.
Ayra was helped down from the car and all the way to the tenth floor, she
was accompanied by the members of her new family. Fareeda stood in the
foyer of Ayra’s new home and she warmly welcomed the younger one in.
incense burned in the living room which Ayra found it soothing as Fareeda
led her to one of the sectional sofas. As tradition requested, they fed her
some sweets and milk and then made Duas for her. Once they’d welcomed
her once again, they assured her Ibrahim was on his way and then they left,
the door clicking shut behind them.
Left all alone, Ayra pulled her hood back and allowed herself breathe in and
out repeatedly. She then looked around the wide space, her smile small and
pretty. She was nervous but again there was excitement that slowly bubbled

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at the thought of Ibrahim coming home to her. She let a number of
scenarios play out in her head as to how everything would go and each
mental image was better than the last. When she finished fantasising, she
picked up her phone and met a message from him at the very top of her
notifications.
Ibrahim: I’m on my way! I can’t wait to see you. I don’t think I’ve
ever been this excited.
Smiling like the lover she was, Ayra quickly sent a reply.
Ayra: I can’t wait to see you too! And while I’m nervous, I’m also
quite excited.
The message delivered but it wasn’t read so she told herself he was on his
way, probably preoccupied with something. The seconds became minutes
and one minute rolled into another. She kept breathing in and out,
anticipating his arrival. When half an hour went by, she told herself that
there was probably traffic as it was Boxing Day and Aomi could be
crowded with the number of people that go out to have fun.
When an hour passed, she sent another message, asking where he was. The
message, just like the first, delivered but it didn’t show that it was read. At
the two hour mark, Ayra really got worried. She called him and it went
straight to his voicemail. Without thinking twice, she called Anneth and got
the same thing; led to voicemail. She called every other member of the
squad but they were all unreachable.
That’s when she began to panic. She kept calling Ibrahim, calling the others
too, and it kept going to voicemail. She dropped messages in their inboxes,
her fingers flying over her keyboard, but every message got delivered. No
one got read.
When the clock struck midnight, a thought settled in her mind and made
her heart drop to the pit of her stomach.
Ibrahim Fahad wasn’t coming to her that night, and she had no idea why.

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15
At 4:53AM, Ayra decided it was time to call someone who wasn’t Ibrahim
or the other members of the Hexad Squad.
She’d done it all; left countless messages and calls, gone into full blown
panic, cried, surfed through news stations and gossip sites to be sure there
had been no accident, and then prayed Tahajjud in that very living room
because she was too scared of heading up to her room without him arriving
first. She should have called someone from her family or his in the last
hours but for some reason, she couldn’t. She didn’t understand it either but
now, she was ready to call the first person that came to mind; Ibtihaj.
She was already pulling up her best friend’s contact when the front door
beeped with the familiar sound of the passcode being inputted. It echoed in
the living space and she froze with her phone in both her hands. The door
clicked open and very slowly, she turned in the direction of the foyer, her
heart coming up to her throat and tears prickling her eyes. A moment later,
a slightly dishevelled Ibrahim stepped into the living space, a very
apologetic expression on his face. “Ayra…”
The other members of the squad stepped in behind him, all of them
changed out of the outfits they’d worn to the reception and also looking as
dishevelled as Ibrahim, especially Tobi. They all looked apologetic too. It
hit Ayra at once; the relief that Ibrahim and the others were fine and then
the fatigue from being awake since the previous morning, right before she’d
gotten married. Unable to help it, she burst into tears and Ibrahim pulled
her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
“I’m so sorry, Ayra.” One hand moved up to cup the back of her head
while his other arm stayed around her middle. “I’m really, really sorry.”
Ayra let her phone fall, not caring if the screen broke or not, and then she
grabbed fistfuls of his kaftan, crying harder. Ibrahim did not stop
apologising, holding her against him until her sobs lessened and became
tiny sniffles. When the relief faded away, it left blooming rage in its place
and she pushed back, glaring at him.
“Where were you?!”
Ibrahim took a small step forward, trying to hold her again. “Ayra –”
“Do you have any idea how scared I was?! You told me you were on your
way and then it was radio silence from you. Radio silence from all of you! I
called, I texted, I left voicemails!” Her voice broke as the tears resurfaced.
“How could you…? Ibrahim, do you have any idea just how scared I was?”
His hand fell back to his side. “I’m really sorry. We all are.”

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“Where were you, Ibrahim? Where were all of you?”
He shut his eyes for a brief moment and exhaled slowly. When she repeated
her question, he sighed. “We were at Raven Isle.”
Ayra had never been so confused. “W-what?”
Behind Ibrahim, Jalal stepped forward. “Something came up and we had to
rush out of Aomi. We’re really sorry, Ayra.”
Ayra looked from him back to her husband who looked even more
apologetic. Her brows were furrowed. “I…I don’t understand. Why did you
have to go all the way to the airport at such a late hour?”
Ibrahim sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s going to make us
sound like the worst people.”
Her hands balled into loose fists. “You do know you have to tell me, right?”
He nodded immediately. “I know.” He sighed again. “There are a number
of projects the company has worked on this year and in order to make time
for our wedding, we did our best to wrap everything up by the start of this
month. There’s an app we’re trying to launch at an international level rather
than starting here in Atlantica and then expanding. With such a large scale
launch, there are a lot of companies involved and the major stakeholders
have to sign before we can push forward.”
Ayra nodded slowly, doing her best to follow. “Okay…”
“We were down to five major figures left to sign the go-ahead contract as at
the time we went to Italy in October. Four out of the five signed and the
last one has been a headache since then. He has a lot of influence in North
America so he’s like a puzzle piece you can’t do without. He’s been making
a fuss about signing and we made it clear that if by Christmas he hasn’t
signed, we were going to replace him with someone else. It was a threat just
to try to speed things forward but unfortunately, it didn’t do much
damage.”
He blew out a breath. “After the reception, I got changed to head back here
at Anneth and Nathaniel’s house because my parents’ house at Monwict
was too full and I didn’t like it. I had barely left the house when this
stakeholder called Jalal, stating that he’s in Raven Isle and if we don’t all
show up before his plane leaves, he’s going to leave the contract in the
waiting lounge, unsigned.”
He stepped forward and held her arms gently; as though she was a thing
that could crack and break with the slightest pressure. “We panicked and
we…We just had to leave and I should have called but I’m so, so sorry. We

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literally realised only Anneth brought along a phone when we were halfway
gone and it wasn’t the one with your phone number. I have your contact
memorised but I don’t do well under pressure so I kept mixing up your
digits and Ibty’s.”
There were tears in his eyes now. “I’m very sorry, Ayra. You have no idea
just how sorry I am. This wasn’t how I expected this night to go. We didn’t
expect it to go this way at all.”
Bella stepped forward, nervously fiddling her fingers. “We’re really sorry,
Ayra. We didn’t want any of this to happen.”
Anneth nodded, stepping forward too. “It was the worst timing and we all
feel awful about it. We’re really, really sorry, Ayra, and we promise to make
it up to you whatever way you want us to.”
Ayra tried to push down the urge to cry again but it was too hard so she
simply gave in, allowing Ibrahim hug her once more so she could cry
against his chest. She heard him tell the others thank you and that they
could leave. He promised to contact them later and she barely heard their
apologies before they left, the door locks automatically clicking into place
when the door shut behind them.
Ayra cried in her husband’s arms until there were no more tears to shed.
Only then did she pull back slightly to look at him and it was funny how his
own tears broke her heart that’d been so panicked earlier. She sniffled,
reaching up to caress his cheeks. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, managing to give her a small smile. “I will be. Are you okay?”
“I was so scared earlier but right now I’m just glad all of you are
fine…Please don’t do that again.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“Did he sign the contract?”
He nodded again, exhaling. “He did. He had signed it since October. He
just wanted to be a demanding pain in the neck.”
“Are you just going to let him get it away with it?”
“Of course not.” He reached up to hold her hands that were on his cheeks.
“We’ve already alerted our legal team. We’re going to sue him and we’re
having him replaced.”
“But I thought you said he’s really influential?”
“The other person we have in mind isn’t as influential as this man is but
he’ll do. At least he won’t take me away from my wife at the very moment

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when I was supposed to be coming home to her.” He sighed and turned his
head, kissing the inside of her left palm. “I’m really sorry, Ayra. You have
no idea how sorry I am. You have no idea how sorry I’m always going to
be.”
The rage she felt was gone and she was just tired of everything. She sighed,
letting her hands drop before she leaned against him and found peace in the
sound of his beating heart. “I’m just glad you’re alright, Ibrahim. I’m really,
really relieved.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ll be fine.”
They stayed there for a little while and then he began attacking her face
with little kisses which made her laugh. “Ibrahim, stop.”
He didn’t and she only laughed harder which made him laugh too. Feeling
much better, she pulled away from him completely with a smile on her face.
She finally took him all in. He was in an olive green kaftan that stopped at
his knees and trousers that got to his ankles. His shoes were brown and
while he did not have on a cap, his curly hair was unruly and she imagined
him running his hands through the curls in frustration. In a way she wasn’t
used to, the mental image made her throat go dry and she had to swallow
and avert her gaze.
Ibrahim bent and picked up her phone which, thankfully, did not crack or
break. He straightened. “That’s one heck of a case and screen guard.”
She smiled again. “You can thank Ibty. She’s really picky when it comes to
phone protection and I’m glad.”
His eyes met hers. “You didn’t call anyone else apart from the others and
me?”
She shook her head, her smile now a ghost. “I couldn’t bring myself to do
so until I finished praying Tahajjud. I don’t know why either. I just focused
on calling you six and then ensuring there was no news of any accident. I
was about calling Ibty when you came in. Perfect timing by the way. She
would have panicked and I know she would have left home immediately.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her smile reappeared. “Ibrahim, it’s fine. You’re fine and you’re here now
and your application is going to be launched. What application is it by the
way?”

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He put her phone on the coffee table closer to them and then pulled out his
phone from his pocket, placing it right beside hers. He fully faced her. “We
called it Little Walker. It’s for pregnant women and new mothers to track
both their health and their baby’s. It has emergency services too and that
would differ from city to city as every city has its own emergency patterns
and all of that. That’s the basic summary but yeah, that’s it.”
“It’s beautiful.”
A corner of his lips lifted. “Yeah?”
She nodded, her dimples pretty on both cheeks when she smiled wider.
“Yes. I mean, there are a lot of already existing applications for babies and
mothers but I’m sure yours is going to be really nice since it is launching on
such a big scale. I’m proud of you, Ibrahim.” A thought then crossed her
mind and she blushed a little. “When we eventually decide on having a
baby, I’ll use it too.”
His smile fully formed then. “I’ll make an application just for you.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?!”
He nodded, his smile stretching. “It’s the least I can do for you, Ayra.
Besides, you deserve it.”
She grinned. “That just made me love you a little more. You better not go
back on that.”
“You have my word.” He then took her hand. “Come on, let’s do this the
right way.”
“What do you mean?”
In reply, he led her to the front door, unlocked it and then led her out of
the apartment. Still confused, Ayra turned the same time he did and they
faced the open door. Before she could ask what he was doing, Ibrahim let
go of her hand and carried her bridal style which earned him a small yelp
from her. Her arms went around his neck out of reflex and her mind
blanked when he looked down at her, mere inches between their faces. His
eyes were an open book in that moment and she saw the mix of admiration
and what she was sure was love. It made her heart beat a little faster.
Ibrahim smiled, placed a feather like kiss on her forehead, and then he
recited two Duas: the Dua for returning home and then the Dua the groom
offered for his bride after marriage. For Ayra, all she could do was fall
deeper and deeper. Her heart was as warm as her cheeks and she couldn’t
stop smiling. With Bismillah, Ibrahim crossed the threshold and then kicked
the door close. He walked past the foyer with her still in his arms and he

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didn’t put her down until he reached the sectional sofa that had the double
height windows some feet behind it.
The sofa was soft beneath her and her cheeks darkened when he knelt in
front of her, his hands finding hers once again. He smiled so beautifully.
“Welcome home, Ayra.”
She was melting and the same time she felt like she was floating. It was the
best thing. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry it’s hours late.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I prefer this, honestly.”
He opened his mouth to reply but both their phones beeped, announcing
that it was Fajr time. He turned from the phones on the table back to her.
“Let’s pray?”
“Sure, let’s do that.”
They ended up going upstairs, with him taking her box for her, and they
made wudhoo in their respective rooms before meeting in the family lounge
where they prayed together. She couldn’t remember being the first prayer of
the day ever being so perfect and she revelled in it. Her stomach grumbled
just as they finished their Duas and she wanted to die of embarrassment as
he laughed.
“In my defence,” She told him, “I barely ate yesterday and I stayed awake
throughout the night with just sweets and milk in my stomach.”
“I’ll make breakfast for us.” He moved even closer to her. “God, you’re
beautiful.”
“Ibrahim, there has to be a limit to how much someone can blush in a
period of time and I should be dangerously close to that limit.”
“But you are beautiful, and I told you already, I love it when you blush.”
She had to bring a hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. “Ibrahim,
please!”
“So we’ll have breakfast and we’ll rest. We do have to leave for Zanzibar in
a few hours and I don’t think we’d enjoy the flight without getting adequate
rest. I’m this close to passing out.”
“I can imagine. That plan sounds fine…Are we resting in our respective
rooms?”
“What do you want us to do?”

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Heat crept to every part of her being as his gaze flicked between her lips
and her eyes. She swallowed yet again that morning. “I won’t mind sharing
a bed with you.”
He smiled, the space between them getting shorter and shorter as he leaned
in. “I won’t mind it either. Cuddling with you sounds like the perfect way to
start our new life together…Ayra, I need to kiss you before I lose my
mind.”
She could only nod and that was all he needed to cup her face firmly yet
softly as his lips met hers. It started out as chaste as the first kiss they’d
shared the previous day until he took it a little further and all she could do
was melt into him, letting him lead while everything about her turned to a
pile of mush. He kissed her until there was need for air and then he pulled
back, both of them inhaling so their respiratory systems didn’t give up on
them.
Ibrahim traced her swollen lower lip with a thumb and he leaned in to kiss
her again. Her stomach protested and they smiled into the kiss before they
pulled back, laughing. His head dropped to her shoulder. “We should get
breakfast.”
Ayra was dizzy and every part of her was buzzing. She nodded anyways.
“We should.”
He raised his head, stealing one more kiss before he stood, pulling her up a
moment later. “We can always get back to that. After all we do have a
honeymoon and there are a lot of things I want to do with you.”
Her cheeks would always betray her and it was brief but she felt a little sting
in the spot where she’d been administered the contraceptive shot a week
earlier at the University of Atlantica Teaching Hospital. The sting was gone
as soon as it came so she didn’t dwell on it. Her mind then went to the
outfits she’d packed for the short honeymoon with help from Ibtihaj,
Salama and Falilat, and she blushed even deeper.
Laughing, Ibrahim pecked her cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get
breakfast.”
Her hand in his, Ayra let him lead her downstairs. Beyond her bashfulness
and little nervousness, there was excitement. She couldn’t wait to get to
Zanzibar.

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16
For Ayra, The Ocean Suite of the Royal Zanzibar Beach Resort was one
word: Magnificent. She loved every part of it.
The hundred square meters space had a king sized bed with actual four
posters, an ottoman stool and two nightstands with tall night lamps, a
sitting area with a loveseat and two one-seaters, a luxuriously furnished
bathroom with a floating bathtub and a rain shower, and a private terrace
which gave a lovely view of the Indian Ocean. There was also an in-room
safe, a mini fridge stocked with drinks and chocolates on Ibrahim’s request,
a wall mounted TV, and a double wardrobe that could comfortably take
their boxes whether they unpacked or not.
The hotelier who’d accompanied them to the suite smiled warmly, his
hands behind him. “We hope you have a lovely stay here, Engineer and Mrs
Fahad. Do let us know if there’s anything you would like to have or
anything you’d like us to change.”
Ibrahim nodded, his arm around Ayra’s shoulders. “We will. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
Once the male left, Ayra stepped away from her husband and giddily
looked around again, her grin child-like. “God, Ibrahim. It looked so
beautiful online but this…This is way better.”
He sat on the ottoman stool in front of the bed that had been laid to
perfection, the pillows arranged nicely, and two blanket swans sitting in the
middle of the flower petals that formed a heart. “I’m glad you liked it. It
stood out from all the resorts you and Ibty recommended. Also, I preferred
this to the Royal Suite.”
“I prefer it too.” She went around again, personally loving the cake,
champagne and flowers they’d been gifted as a welcome present since they
were on their honeymoon. “It’s really beautiful. If the resort is this pretty so
late at night, I can’t wait to see how it is during the day.”
He took off his sandals and then moved to remove his watch. “We’ll have
to rest a bit, pray Fajr, and then rest a little more before we can think about
breakfast and touring. Besides, we have four full days here and five nights.
That’s plenty enough time to explore.”
He stood and she walked over to where he was, blushing as usual when he
pulled her close. She smiled nicely. “True…You look really good in
vacation wear.”

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Ibrahim – dressed in beach shorts, a figure hugging top, and the sandals
which he’d removed before standing – smiled at her. “Wel,l we’re on
vacation and I wasn’t ready to wear my usual outfits for the flight. This was
more comfortable.”
And she wasn’t going to tell him that she’d gladly ogled at him when his
attention had been on something else. She kept smiling and so did he. He
then reached up to unwrap her veil slowly.
“We need to call the others to let them know we’ve arrived safely. But,
before we do that,” He pulled the veil away, revealing her hair which had
been pulled into a single braid which she’d folded. “I caught a glimpse of
this earlier and I just had to see the entire thing. God, Ayra. I tell myself
there are levels to this thing called beauty and you keep showing me that
there are even more levels to it.”
Ayra gladly melted in his arms. He tossed the veil on the bed and went on
to free the braid. “Can I loosen it?”
She nodded, her heart racing while flutters tripled in every possible part of
her. “You can.”
And he did, sneakily massaging her scalp briefly. It took everything in her to
not moan blissfully and she knew through the glint in his eyes that he knew
what she was trying not to do. It only made her cheeks redder. When her
curls were free, he ran his fingers through them and there was no way she
could miss the admiration on his face as he said “You have really beautiful
hair, Ayra.”
“So do you.” She’d run her fingers softly through his curls earlier when they
were still in Aomi and he’d fallen asleep after they’d eaten breakfast. “Yours
is beautiful too.”
“Not like yours though.”
“Let’s not argue.”
He let his hand leave her hair and she pouted like a child deprived of
sweets. That made him smile again. “We’ll get back to that. We need to call
the others.”
“Yeah, we need to do so.”
They both made no effort to move and it made them smile widely. He
repeated what he said and so did she but they still didn’t move. They stayed
standing in front of the bed, his arms around her waist and her hands on
his chest; one of the numerous fantasies she’d had about them brought to

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life which made her very, very happy. His smile slowly disappearing,
Ibrahim leaned in. “Ayra.”
She swallowed softly, her voice low and breathy. “Ibrahim.”
And then he was kissing her. Ever since they’d prayed their first Fajr
together back in Aomi, he’d been touchy and it did so many things to her;
things she loved despite not being familiar with. He’d kissed her in so many
ways and she was still yet to decide just which way she loved but this
particular kiss…This one was taking the crown.
Her arms moved to his shoulders and she pushed herself to her toes,
wanting more of everything he was willing to give and Ibrahim didn’t
disappoint. He broke the kiss for only a moment so they could breathe and
then his lips were on hers again, his arms keeping her steady. When they
eventually pulled apart, they were both breathing hard and her lips tingled
nicely.
Ibrahim let his forehead drop to hers, blowing out a soft breath. “We really
need to call everyone. I think we can keep ourselves from doing anything
beyond kissing and making out for a little longer, yeah?”
She nodded and it felt like a lie. “I think we can.”
“Good.” He pulled himself away from her reluctantly. “Let’s make those
phone calls.”
She nodded again. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
They stepped away from each other and got their phones from the bags
that had been their carry-ons on the plane. She sat on the loveseat in the
sitting area while he stepped out to the terrace. She called her parents first,
then Ibtihaj’s, and then Ibtihaj herself.
“Madam,” Ibtihaj said as soon as she picked up. “Shey you’re alright? I told
you clearly to let me know when you got to your new house and to let me
know how everything goes. Is it now you’re getting to your new house!?”
Ayra laughed, feeling a little guilty. She didn’t want to tell Ibtihaj or anyone
else that she’d spent her first night married panicking and in tears. “Sorry
ma. I got side-tracked and I just got a moment to actually make the phone
calls.”
“Side-tracked keh?” Ibtihaj gasped outrageously. “Ayra, you don dey do bad
thing!?”
“Ibty!”

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“What do you want me to think? I was going to call you earlier but Mummy
went ahead to put pictures in my head that I had to cast and bind. I mean, I
know you said you and him agreed to have sex in Zanzibar but this lust of a
thing can be very funny so I did not want to take chances.”
Ayra was glad Ibrahim couldn’t hear a thing. She glanced his way and found
him laughing as he paced the length of the terrace, his other hand in the
pocket of his beach shorts. She looked away for the sake of her heart and
mind that were teetering towards dangerous territories.
“Ibrahim and I were resting ahead of our flight. That’s all.”
“Lie will kill you there. Ayra, say it with your full chest that you two already
rested. Man that was ready to chop your face during and after the
reception.”
Ayra’s cheeks were burning. “Ibty, leave me alone. I just called to let you
know that we’ve arrived safely in Zanzibar. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Madam, your wedding madness is still going on online. I’ve been watching
reels and scrolling through posts. I’m a star myself. People have been
praising my outfits.” She then hissed. “It’s just annoying how they’re pairing
me with Tobi and saying that Bella and Jalal look good together too.”
Ayra smiled. “Well, I know Tobi is annoying and he’s definitely not the man
for you but both your outfits killed it. You two being paired together only
made it better. Outside that, they shouldn’t pair you two together. I can’t
have you with a man that calls women by the number of girlfriends he has
when he meets them. You deserve much more than that.”
“Thank you o! This is why you are my best friend. I’ll find someone sha. I
already have a lot of DMs to handle.”
“Yay! Soon we’ll be planning your own wedding and I’ll be ready to go all
out for you too.”
“Amen o! Oya, before Oga Ibrahim will come and say I’m hogging his wife,
come and be going. Ensure you wear something very, very provocative for
your first time o.”
“Ibty, I swear to God –”
Ibtihaj cackled. “Bye, bye.”
The call ended and Ayra could only roll her eyes. She considered calling the
members of the squad but thought against it as she didn’t know if they were
all awake or which one would be talking to Ibrahim. She chose to send
them messages instead, telling them that she and Ibrahim were in Zanzibar

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safely and they were alright. She also told them they didn’t need to be
apologising anymore for having to rush down to Raven Isle while she was
left all alone. Just like with Ibrahim, she was glad they were alright.
Ibrahim stepped in just as she was finishing Bella’s message and she smiled
when he went around the loveseat and kissed her hair. She hit send and
then looked up at him. He smiled back. “I’ll freshen up first.”
“Sure.”
“And then we can sleep for an hour or two before we pray Fajr.”
“Let’s pray Tahajjud before we sleep.”
He nodded, still smiling. “Whatever you want us to do, Ayra.”
Her smile softened. “I love you.”
“Right back at you, sweetheart.” He pecked her forehead and she savoured
it. “What else is there to feel?”
♣
They slept through the entire day, only waking up at intervals to use the
restroom, pray and then eat the meals they had delivered from the resort’s
restaurants.
After Isha, she happily sat on his laps on the seat he occupied on the terrace
and they watched the calm sea together, the sounds of waves crashing a
soothing melody. He traced a random shape on her arm. “You seem lost in
thought.”
She smiled a little. “It’s just beautiful.”
“The sea?”
She nodded. “Yeah, among other things.” A moment of silence passed. “I
used to dream about this a lot. I used to imagine you and me married and
together like this and I love how so many fantasies have been coming to
life.”
“Just how long have you liked me for?”
She cleared her throat, deflecting. “Do you think there’s anything going on
in the –”
He chuckled, his other arm going around her middle to stop her from
escaping. “We’re not getting off topic, Ayra. I already told you the exact
moment I fell for you so you have to tell me too.”
“I don’t want to.”

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“Please. I really, really want to know.”
She was glad her back rested against his front so he couldn’t easily see her
face that burned. She let herself feel a moment of embarrassment before
she vaguely replied. “I was a teenager.”
“So we’re talking about two, three years back?”
Her face burned even more. “Maybe…”
“Wait.” He leaned sideways to look at her properly with wide eyes. “Even
further back?”
“Ibrahim, we can talk about something else.”
His eyes were even wider. “Ayra, just how old were you?”
She wanted to disappear. She shut her eyes, knowing there was no going
back. “I was thirteen.”
“I’m sorry, what?” His brows furrowed. “I don’t think I met you when you
were thirteen.”
She opened her eyes with a small sigh. “You didn’t. Let’s just say you were
in the room I wanted to make use of and well…”
His brows furrowed further and his eyes had an astonished glint. “You have
to tell me this story. You’re telling me you were in your parents’ house the
day I came with my father and his colleagues?”
She nodded, facing her fate. “I was. It had been the last day of school and I
was excited to come home to meet Baba but I saw the cars and I knew he
was busy so I went up to change out of my uniform. Then I decided to
come down to watch a movie in the second living room since Baba’s guests
hardly came that way. You were there and I don’t know why but I panicked
and I ran behind the closest curtain.”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded again, the embarrassment fading away little by little as she
watched his astonishment grow. “I am. You are a really captivating person,
Ibrahim, and I totally forgot what I’d come down for. I found it amazing
that someone could be so captivated with the book he was reading to the
extent he didn’t know he was being watched.”
His brows were relaxed and he gave her a small smile. “It was a thriller I’d
taken from Mum’s shelf. It was really good and I wanted to finish it before
the meeting with your father ended…But are you serious? You’ve loved me
since then?”

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Her cheeks coloured. “Well, I knew I felt unfamiliar things that thirteen
year old me couldn’t fathom but I was definitely curious about you so I
listened attentively to what Baba said when he spoke about you and trust
me, he said everything good. I would later come to learn what my feelings
meant and I prayed for the best,” She omitted a lot and then shrugged.
“And here we are.”
He was quiet for a stretched moment and then his expression softened ever
so beautifully. “I should have met you sooner.”
Her heart did its signature flip. “Yeah?”
He nodded with no hesitation. “Yeah. I really should have met you sooner
so I could give you back every inch of love you had for me.”
Her love for him was a deep, deep hole and she’d fallen even deeper with
his words. Imagining them meeting earlier had her feeling all warm and
buttery. She had to look away from him, her gaze falling to her hands.
“Well, this still worked out so…Alhamdulillah either way.”
He kissed her shoulder which was covered by the boubou she wore. “I’ll
make it up to you for the rest of our lives together, I promise.”
She only blushed deeper and he chuckled before turning her face towards
him so he could kiss her softly, knowing she was going to melt into him like
she always did. Ayra did exactly that and when he pulled back she kept her
eyes closed for a second longer before she opened them, meeting his darker
ones. She saw the question in his eyes and she had to swallow while her
heart found it as a perfect type to run its treadmill.
“I…” She blew out a small breath. “I need to get prepped first.” She
managed to smile. “I know we’ve showered and all but I’d feel better
wearing something else. Then I’m all yours.”
He smiled too, nodding. “Take your time. I’ll wait. And if you don’t want to
go all the way, I’ll wait till you’re ready. Okay?”
With how she felt as though she’d combust soon, Ayra wasn’t sure she was
going to withdraw her consent until they’d done every single thing they
could. She nodded anyways, her smile a little wider. “Okay.”
They left the terrace a minute later and she should have gone to pick out
what she wanted to wear before heading to the bathroom to get changed
but Ibrahim hadn’t kissed her enough yet and he did so until she had to
reluctantly step away from him, knowing she’d never get changed if she let
him go on.

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She grabbed the first lingerie set her in her box that her hand came in
contact with and all but ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut
behind her. She dumped the chosen outfit on the vanity and fanned herself
with her hands, trying to cool off the heat that affected every single part of
her body. It didn’t work and she ended up splashing water on her face,
tempted to take yet another shower although they’d taken their baths –
separately – between Maghrib and Isha. Breathing in and out until she was
much calmer, she opened the cotton bag that held the lingerie she’d chosen
and her eyes should have popped out of their sockets with how wide it was.
Staring right back at her was a black silk robe which had lace on the sleeves
and the back, and a waist sash. There was nothing else; absolutely nothing
to wear underneath. Ayra bit back a groan. It was one of the three robes
she’d packed for the trip and she had planned to wear them when she was
more comfortable with showing so much skin to Ibrahim. Now
though…her plans were going to have to change because she didn’t trust
herself to go back in there.
It wasn’t easy to resign herself to the night’s fate but she did, accepting the
fact that she was really going to leave the bathroom with nothing but a silk
robe. With a sigh, she got started on getting ready. She brushed her teeth
extra-carefully and then removed her boubou, folding it neatly and then
putting her underwear right on top of it once they were off. She pulled the
robe out of its bag and with another sigh, she put it on. It was soft and cool
against her skin and she actually liked it. The waist sash was so long it went
around her waist twice before she knotted it in a loose bow. She stared at
her reflection for a moment, turning from left to right, until she was
nervously satisfied.
She then brushed her hair out and left it loose to fall past her shoulders.
The perfumes came next and she spritzed a little here and there, feeling
more and more confident with each passing second. When she finished
with every single thing, she stared at her reflection. The woman who stared
back was beautiful and innocently tempting. She blew out a long breath,
prayed for everything to go well because she had only the extensive
research she’d done to rely on and not any previous experience. She didn’t
want anything to go wrong and she knew better than to let her nervousness
get the best of her.
Gathering every ounce of courage, she walked to the door and pulled it
open. Her eyes widened when she found Ibrahim on the other side, his
hand raised as he’d been about to knock. He blinked, his hand falling back
to his head. “You were taking quite too…” His gaze slid downwards and
his eyes widened slightly. “Long.”

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Ayra, her eyes still wide, let her eyes slide downwards and it shouldn’t have
been possible but her eyes got even wider. Her husband was shirtless,
revealing a well-toned torso and the full length of his slightly muscular
arms. His waist downwards was covered with a pair of loose, black trousers
and his feet were bare. She brought her line of sight back to his face the
same time he brought her line of sight back to his.
Ayra couldn’t breathe properly and judging from her husband’s expression,
he seemed to be going through the exact same thing. Ibrahim forced out a
shaky breath. “Leilani.”
The room was hotter, she was sure of it. She said the first thing that came
to mind without much thought. “Hi…?”
“God,” He sounded so pained. “You’re not going to kill me.”
And then he pulled her towards him, his mouth coming down on hers with
an urgency she could barely brace herself for. She’d thought he kissed her in
every way possible but this was proving her wrong. Ibrahim kissed her as
though he was on the brink of death and she was the only thing that could
fully bring him back to life, and she had to hold onto him for dear life while
he reached up to cup the back of her neck.
He broke the kiss so they could both breathe for a near minute and then he
was kissing her again, blinding moving backwards with her. Ayra let herself
get swept by everything, following his lead as he was clearly certain of what
he was doing. His hands staring to roam drove her mad and when he lifted
her up, she naturally wrapped her legs around his waist while her hands
moved to toy with his hair which was more than enough to push Ibrahim
to near insanity.
He let her hold him as he moved his mouth from hers to her neck while his
hands worked on her robe’s sash, discarding it once it had come undone
before opening her robe which the sash had held together. His hands on
her bare skin had her gasping, her hands tugging at his hair. She watched as
he lowered his gaze, taking in all of her that was on display to him and it
was a lot for her to feel.
He carried her to the bed and got her out of the robe in record speed, as
though the fabric had offended him and he didn’t want to rip it. His desire
was as clear as day alongside his self-restraint that was hanging by a very
thin thread. Ayra felt drunk as she took him in as he was a very open book
in that very moment.

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Ibrahim inhaled deeply and exhaled before he got on the bed, his knees on
both her sides, caging her in. He then leaned in, his arms holding him above
her. “Let me know if it gets too much or if you want us to stop.”
She could only nod and he went on to show her just how much he
appreciated the body she had while she tried to be a little quiet; a fight she
eventually gave up on because he wasn’t giving her a chance to be quiet, at
all. He took his time and she barely recognised her voice when she let out a
breathless plea which he completely understood. The feel of him inside her
a little later was momentarily too much for Ayra and her nails dug into his
biceps until she adjusted.
He kissed her hairline. “You good?”
She nodded, blowing out a breath. “I am now.”
Nodding, he took things slowly until she was completely comfortable and
then he picked up the pace, Ayra falling into the rhythm he’d set. The
climax – for both of them, especially for her – was breathtakingly
convulsive and they milked each other until there was nothing left to give.
Blissfully exhausted, Ibrahim fell beside her, caught his breath for a
moment and then pulled her against him.
Ayra was certain her brain was fried and she trembled slightly, noticing a
few seconds later that he was slightly trembling too. He kissed her hair.
“You good, love?”
“Yeah.” She still couldn’t recognise her voice. “I just need a moment.”
He kissed her hair again. “Take your time…That was beautiful.”
Beautiful, to Ayra, was an understatement. That had been…she didn’t even
have the world for it but it was out of the world and she’d loved every bit
of it. As the bliss slowly came down, her body began to feel as though it
was floating. She let her eyes flutter close, vaguely felt him move.
“Ayra?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m going to get warm water and a towel to clean you up, okay?”
She nodded, settling deeper into the pillow that felt like clouds in the haze
she was still in. Ibrahim chuckled, pulling away from her and then getting
off the bed. As she slipped into unconsciousness, a part of her wondered
how he’d been so good; whether he’d done as much research as she had
or…if he’d gotten intimate with someone before.

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By the time she’d wake up, the thought would be gone and she won’t come
back to it again because there’d be no reason to do so.
♣
In the days they spent in Zanzibar, they shared their activities into two;
indoor activities and outdoor activities. Ayra loved both but she was a little
more biased towards all they did indoors; things she’d never explicitly share.
Things that left her sated in ways she didn’t know were possible to the
extent that she could barely move for a little while afterwards.
When it came to their outdoor activities, they did it all; they toured the
resort, patronised the restaurants and spa, engaged in water sports, had a
romantic beach dinner and a movie viewing once they finished eating, had
floating breakfast in the pool while catching the sunrise, and then
experiencing the Swahili culture during the local tour of Zanzibar.
The day of their departure – December 31st – was Ibrahim’s birthday and
Ayra woke him up from his post-Fajr nap with a confetti cannon she’d
gotten from their tour of Zanzibar. It startled him, nearly sending him off
the bed, and when she burst out laughing, realisation dawned on him and
he buried his face in the pillows with a groan.
“Ayra,” His voice was muffled. “You scared me.”
“Happy Birthday! I had to do something for you before we leave. It’s little
but still…”
She sat beside him on the bed and he rolled over, looking so beautiful even
while it was clear that he was still a little sleepy. He returned her bright
smile with a small smile of his. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” She looked towards the table in the sitting area. “There’s a
bento cake and all.” She turned back to him and with rosy cheeks, she held
out her left hand. On her palm was an eggplant purple box. “I made this for
you. I got you turtlenecks in the colours you don’t already have but those
are back in Aomi. I made sure to bring this along.”
He sat up, the duvet falling and exposing his bare torso. “Ayra…”
“It’s not much, like I said, but I like to think it’s the thought that counts.”
She blushed deeper when he took the box from her. “It’s very hard to think
of what to give you when you are rich enough to afford anything.”
His smile was back. “I’d love anything from you, Ayra. You’re my greatest
gift.”
“Ibrahim, stop!”

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His smile widened. “I’m serious.”
She slouched a little, nervous flutters in her stomach. “You should open it.”
He did as she asked. Sitting pretty in the velvet box were three bead
bracelets in black and black, black and silver, and black and gold. She’d
taken her time to make them when she was alone before the wedding and if
she had to toot her own horn, she’d brag that they came out perfectly well.
Ibrahim’s expression softened. “Ayra, you made these?”
She nodded, her smile small while her dimples were so deep and lovely. “I
did. I learned with YouTube and TikTok tutorials but I did…Do you like
them?”
In reply, he took them out of the box and put them on; the black and black,
and the black and silver on his right wrist while the black and gold was put
on his left. “I love them.” He raised his head to look at her. “Thank you.
This has to be my best birthday present ever.”
She bashfully looked away. “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.” He moved closer and cupped her cheeks. “Thank you, Ayra. I’ll
use them well, I promise.”
She saw it coming but her flutters doubled when he kissed her softly and
lazily, taking his sweet time. They smiled against each other’s lips before
pulling back and then he pushed the duvet away, getting out of bed. “Since
I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep before we leave, let’s get started
on that cake.”
She laughed and got off the bed too. “Sure. Let’s do that.”
His hand found hers and he squeezed as gently as ever. “Thank you, Ayra.”
Her heart soared and her smile shone. “You’re welcome.”
♣
Anneth and Nathaniel’s home was like a clubhouse; bright, packed, and
buzzing with overflowing excitement. Ayra couldn’t believe it was the same
house she’d come to over and over again before she and Ibrahim had
gotten married.
The New Year party was already in full swing when she and Ibrahim arrived
and she let him hold her hand and lead the way through the partying crowd
filled with people she didn’t know personally. She missed her best friend
like crazy. Ibtihaj’s grandparents were visiting and so Ibtihaj couldn’t make
it as her grandmother wanted to spoil her like crazy, ensuring the young one

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was in her line of sight at all times. She – Ibtihaj – promised to visit Ayra as
soon as she could and Ayra couldn’t wait.
Bella was the first one to spot Ayra and Ibrahim and she rushed over with a
wide smile. To Ayra, Bella looked dazzling in leather trousers that hugged
her legs like second skin, a crop top with ruffled sleeves, boots that stopped
above her ankles, make-up that highlighted every perfect feature on her
face, and curls that were left in their wild glory.
She – Bella – hugged Ibrahim first. “Birthday boy! Be rest assured we’re
celebrating you in exactly ten minutes, right before the countdown begins.”
Ibrahim shook his head, hugging her back. “You guys need to stop doing
this.”
Bella pulled back, slapping his chest. “Party pooper.” She then turned to
Ayra and hugged her tightly. “Ayra, my darling! I have missed you so, so
much.”
Ayra laughed, hugging Bella back and finding soothing that she, Bella, and
Ibrahim used the same perfume. “I have missed you too!” She pulled back,
smiling. “Happy Belated Birthday, Bella. I hope you got my present.”
“Yes! I loved it. That dress is so, so soft and I’m so going to rock it in the
new year. Ibty’s gown was so beautiful too and I can’t wait to also rock
that…” She then looked around. “Where’s Ibty by the way?”
Ayra’s smile didn’t waver. “Her grandparents are in town so she couldn’t
make it.”
“Oh…” Bella’s smile returned. “Well, we’ll have fun with her another day.”
She then took Ayra’s hand in one of hers and took Ibrahim’s in her other
one. “Come on, everyone’s waiting for you two. Let’s do the
introductions.”
She led them deeper into the full house, towards the other members of the
squad who were more than excited to have them back from Zanzibar. Like
Bella said, they paused the party to celebrate Ibrahim who looked ready to
disappear as everyone present cheered loudly. There were cakes and a lot of
gifts and quite a number of people coming forward to talk to Ibrahim and
Bella, about things Ayra didn’t have a clue of. She tried to keep up but it
was hard so she helped herself with a bottle of soda, sipping from it as they
conversed.
It wasn’t long before Anneth announced they had to go out to begin the
countdown. Ayra stayed beside Ibrahim, his arm comforting around her
shoulders, as they headed out with the others. The excitement got to her as

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the countdown began and she chanted along with them with a wide smile
on her face. As soon the clock struck midnight, the sky lit up with
fireworks; those Nathaniel had purchased and those lit by others in the area
and all around Aomi.
Ibrahim turned his wife towards him, smiling. “Happy New Year, Ayra.”
“Happy New Year, Ibrahim.”
Like the couples all around them, Ibrahim kissed her and Ayra gladly
pushed herself up to the tip of her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck
as she kissed him back while knowing deep in her heart that 2021 was going
to be her best year yet as he was now in her life and their love story was
only beginning.
She couldn’t wait to get started on bringing every fantasy she had to life
with him. They had forever to stay together after all.

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17
“…a gentle reminder that you need to continuously work hand in hand
with your supervisors a lot this semester so you can get your thesis out of
the way as soon as possible. It’ll do you a lot of good…That’ll be all for
today. I’ll see you next week.”
As soon as the professor left the class, Ayra let her head fall to the top of
the table with a groan. Beside her, Ibtihaj rolled her eyes as she got her
things together. “Stand up, my friend. I want to go home and eat Amala.
Mummy made ewedu.”
Ayra sat up. “I’m not jealous. I’m going home to make a surprise dinner for
my husband.”
Ibtihaj zipped her bag shut. “Does that mean Oga Fahad is finally coming
home early today?”
Ayra nodded, getting excited at the mere thought of it. “He is. I texted his
secretary earlier and she confirmed it.” She put her notepad in her bag,
smiling from ear to ear. “Finally!”
“Finally o. Because I was this close to shaking you and putting it in your
head that you need to talk to him. It’s too early for you to be lonely in this
marriage because he’s working long hours at the office.”
“I’m not lonely though. I mean, he comes home at night and –”
Ibtihaj had a brow raised. “He comes home late, when you’re either asleep
or about to sleep.”
“But he still comes home and I see him in the mornings.” Ayra didn’t stop
smiling. “So I’m not lonely.”
“Ayra. When you used to dream about getting married to this man, you had
dreams about him being home a lot and both of you having fun together as
long as you’re both free. It’s been almost an exact month since you two got
married and you can count on one hand how many times you two have had
dinner together because Ibro is working long hours as if he’s still a
bachelor.”
“Don’t call him Ibro. His name is Ibrahim.”
“Ayra, I will slap you o!”
Ayra sighed, rolling her eyes. “Ibty. This is a phase and things are going to
fall into place soon. There’s a lot of work to settle at the company because
all of them were majorly inactive in order to put things in place for the
wedding. Sure, this first month is nothing close to what I imagined it’ll be

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but I know this is a phase and it’ll pass.” Her smile returned, a little smaller.
“It’ll all be fine. Trust the process.”
Ibtihaj stared at her for a long moment. “Sometimes I want to be as
optimistic as you are but omo!” She then sighed. “I’ll trust the process but
if anything doesn’t seem right, I’ll shake you to thy kingdom come.”
Ayra laughed, nodding. “Sure, you do that. Besides, Ibrahim’s coming home
early tonight. That’s a good start.”
“True. That’s a –”
Ayra’s phone vibrating on the desk cut her off. They both looked at the
device, Ibrahim’s name flashing across the screen alongside the emojis she’d
saved his contact with. Smiling wider, she picked the phone and accepted
the call.
“Ibrahim, hi!”
“Hey…”
It took a second to realise his background was familiarly noisy. Ayra’s smile
dimmed and the excitement that had bubbled slowly faded away. She
swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “Ibrahim, where are you?”
“At the airport…” He blew out a breath. “Something came up so the squad
and I have to leave town for a week.”
Ayra’s heart dropped and her chest squeezed. When Ibtihaj raised her brow
again, Ayra looked away, focusing on her bag instead. “Where are you guys
going?”
“Geneva. There’s this tech summit we were hoping to attend but there was
little to no information about it so we agreed we’d find more about it after
the wedding craze and when the workload had reduced.” He exhaled again.
“However, we found out today that they sent an invite before last year ran
out and we’re to make our first presentation about Little Walker so this is a
big deal for us.”
Ayra understood but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt a lot. She smiled tightly
although he wasn’t there. “I understand. You all should have a safe flight.”
Ibtihaj’s brow rose even higher and she looked at her best friend
bewilderedly. Over the line a flight announcement was made before
Ibrahim spoke. “That’s our flight. Did we have any plans, sweetheart?”
“Nah.” Her chest squeezed again and it was painful. “I just wanted to
surprise you with dinner but we can reschedule.”

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“I’ll make it up to you, Ayra. Once everything falls into place and my
schedule’s freer, I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll look forward to that. Let me know when you land and be rest assured
I’ll watch the summit or at least get the highlights.”
He laughed and it went to her heart, healing it. “I know you would. Stay
safe, Ayra.”
“You too. I love you.”
“Like always, sweetheart, what else is there to feel? Say hi to Ibty for me.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Ibtihaj opened her mouth once the phone was lowered but Ayra beat her to
it. “Do you want to spend the week at my place, Ibty? I think I could use
your company around.”
Ibtihaj slammed her mouth shut and a moment passed before she sighed.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s a tech summit and they can’t miss it so they’ll be away for a week.”
Her smile was small. “He’s going to make it up to me once his schedule’s
free. I don’t want to dwell on it so you better say that you’ll stay with me
throughout the week or I will kidnap you and make your grandparents pay
ransom.”
Ibtihaj laughed; she had to. “You’ve gotten better with your threats.”
Ayra’s smile widened and it turned sweet. “I learn well from you.”
“And yes, my dear, I will spend the week with you. Who can say no to
staying a week in Downtown Aomi? You’ll have to drive me to the estate
sha so I can pack my stuff.”
Ayra nodded, rising to her feet. “Sure. I’ll even use the opportunity to say hi
to your parents and mine. It’s been a while.”
Ibtihaj stood too. “Are you okay, Ayra? Like, are you really okay or do you
want me to go to Raven Isle to beat Oga Ibro?”
Ayra rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Ibty, I swear I’m fine. I’ll be good as new
by the time we’re heading towards Plum Boulevard. And I told you not to
call him that!”
Ibtihaj laughed, nodding. “Yes ma.” She picked up her bag. “Let’s go?”
Ayra nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

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♣
Like she promised, Ayra kept up with the summit and she could brag to
anyone willing to listen that the Hexad Squad made one of the best
presentations. Having Ibtihaj watch it with her made it even better and
although Ibtihaj had a dislike for Tobi and his playboy ways, she couldn’t
deny the fact that he was a good presenter, standing on the stage with
Ibrahim and Bella while Anneth and Jalal managed the transitions, graphics,
and displays.
When the summit ended, she was so excited to prepare for their return –
especially Ibrahim’s – but they broke her heart by extending the trip by one
more week because they had to have meetings with world known
companies and individuals who had collaboration deals which were going to
be very profitable to The Hexad. Not wanting to dwell on how
disappointed and heartbroken she was, Ayra focused on starting her
dissertation while Ibtihaj played the role of the caring best friend even
though she wanted to get Ibrahim’s head and slam it against the nearest
wall.
On the last day of January, an invitation was delivered to the apartment,
shortly after Ibtihaj finally returned home to Plum Boulevard. Thanking the
male from the reception team who’d brought it up, Ayra stepped into the
apartment, closed the door and only examined the envelope in her hands
once the locks had clicked into place.
The envelope was blood red, sealed with gold wax that matched the golden
designs on the edges. She walked back to the living room, loving the feel of
the envelope in her hands. She sat on the edge of the first sectional and
carefully broke the sealed wax, opening the envelope. Inside, sitting prettily,
was a cream coloured minimalistic – yet regal – card with both her name
and Ibrahim’s.
The card invited them to a Bridgerton themed party on Valentine’s Day at
the diamond ballroom of the Lushville Hotel in Monwict. It – the card –
stated that it was allowed to bring a plus-one and Ayra had no doubt she
was going to invite Ibtihaj.
Smiling, she began thinking about what she could wear as she read the
words on the invite again. Her smile disappeared when she heard the
inputting of the passcode on the apartment’s keypad. Knowing Ibrahim was
not supposed to be back until the next day, Ayra out the card and the
envelope aside and stood, wondering if Ibtihaj was back because she forgot
something.

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She was almost at the foyer when the door opened and she stopped in her
tracks, tempted to pinch herself to ensure she wasn’t dreaming. Ibrahim
smiled sheepishly and made his way in. “Hi…I was hoping you’d be out
although it’s a Sunday so I could make dinner to surprise you.”
Her chest warmed rapidly. “Ibrahim…How…You’re supposed to be back
tomorrow.”
He closed the door behind him, let go of his box’s hand, and then gave her
his full attention. “I lied actually. I wanted to surprise you but having you
home is good too.” He opened his arms, his smile widening. “Come here,
sweetheart.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice. She jumped on him and he caught her
easily, laughing lowly; a sound that resonated deeply in his chest where her
head rested against. She hugged him tightly, still surprised but so, so glad
that he was finally home. She’d missed him, more than anyone knew.
He kissed her hair that was in cornrows. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She pulled back and glared. “I’m still a little mad that
you had to extend the trip.”
“It was all for greater good, I promise.” He kissed her lips. “And I’m free
this week so let’s do everything we couldn’t do ever since we got back to
our daily schedules.”
She beamed. “Are you serious?!”
He nodded. “I am…What were you doing before I returned? It seems like
you were excited.”
“Oh, yes! An invitation came today for a Bridgerton themed party on
Valentine’s Day. They said we can bring a plus one.”
“And that’s Ibty.”
She beamed even more. “Yes! Is that okay with you?”
“Ayra, everything you do is okay with me.” He kissed her again. “Besides,
Ibty’s always good company so I know we’ll be fine.”
She giggled when he kissed her yet again. “She really is good company. You
better make it up to her because I know she’s ready to bash your head
against a wall for being such a workaholic this past month.”
He sighed heavily. “I’ll do that.” He removed his coat. “Right now, though,
I have other plans and it involves more action, less talking, and you out of
that dress because it’s driving me mad.”

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And who was she to say no? They made up for the weeks they’d spent apart
and…it was a lot. When it was all said and done and they were both
exhausted, Ayra poked his chest with a finger, putting on her sternest look.
“You better not go back on what you said in the foyer. You’re not going to
work this week. If you do, I’ll be really mad.”
Clearly amused, Ibrahim nodded. “I won’t, I promise. You’ll be leaving me
at home though. You have classes almost every day.”
She smiled like a spoilt brat. “It’s payback time. Miss me as much as I
missed you and think of things to do until I get back from school each
day.”
He sighed. “That’s going to be hard.” A moment passed. “Well, I guess I’ll
go disturb Bella when I get bored. I’ll disturb her until she throws me out.”
Ayra laughed. “God, Ibrahim. Yeah, you can do that and if she throws you
out, I’ll act as though I don’t know both of you because I’m going to side
with you and I’m not ready for drama.”
“You love me so you obviously have to side with me. Bella can do whatever
she likes.”
“I love both of you though.”
“You love me more, don’t argue.”
She laughed. “I do…That reminds me, I haven’t still been into Bella’s
apartment. Each time I want to visit, she’s always out or it skips my mind.”
“Should we freshen up and head down now?”
She shook her head. “Nah, I want to lay here in bed with you and just stay
like this. I can always visit another day. I’ll just call ahead.”
“Sure.” He kissed her neck, softly biting into the flesh which caused her to
barely bite back a moan. “I’m so glad I’m home.”
Ayra’s hands went into his hair, her eyes shut as she allowed him do with
her what he deemed fit. “I’m so glad you’re home too.”
She couldn’t wait to let Ibtihaj know that Ibrahim had the week free which
meant there was no reason for her – Ibtihaj – to murder Ibrahim as he’d
promised to make up for everything they – he and Ayra – had missed.
♣
The diamond ballroom of Lushville Hotels had been transformed, taking
invited guests who were dressed for the occasion back to the regency era.
Ayra and Ibtihaj, arm in arm, took a moment to take it all in, awed beyond

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imagination; the fashion of the ladies, dukes, princes, princess, duchesses,
viscounts, viscountesses, and then the kings and queens present, the
dynamic theatrical vignettes and even the soundtrack that tied it all together
– music presented by a live orchestral group who were also dressed to
impress. It was perfect and everyone present knew the planning committee
had nailed exactly what they were going for.
Ayra breathed in and out and then squared her shoulders, standing even
straighter. “Let’s go in?”
Beside her, Ibtihaj nodded. “Let’s go in.”
They did just that, blending into the world of beauty and laughter. Ayra was
in a maxi dress from ASOS; a white shirred mixed broderie tiered dress
with lace inserts. Elbow length gloves covered her arms and a simple turban
was wrapped around her head while pumps covered her feet. She had a
bead bag and a fan too, her jewellery and make-up minimal.
Ibtihaj, on the other hand, was in a floral blush frock and frill maxi dress
which had long sleeves, saving her the stress of wearing gloves. She also
had a turban on her head and she’d gone the extra mile to add a hat. Her
jewellery was nothing minimal but her make-up was and like her best friend,
she had a bead bag, a fan, and pumps on her feet.
They exchanged greetings with guests present and when Ibtihaj bolted to
use the bathroom, Ayra found a quiet corner. She got her phone out of her
bag, pulled up Ibrahim’s contact and dialled. It rang for a little while before
she got directed to his voicemail. She hung up and tried again.
They’d spent the morning together, munching on the cupcakes he’d
surprised her with while watching a movie. After Zuhr, his attention was
needed at the office so he left. He didn’t promise he’d be back before the
party but he did say he’d try his best to meet up alongside the others. Ayra
and Ibtihaj had waited a little, hoping he’d return before Maghrib but when
he didn’t, they got changed, prayed and then came over to the hotel.
With a sigh, she sent a text and waited until Ibtihaj returned. It didn’t take
long and the first thing Ibtihaj asked was “How far?”
“He’s not picking up. He’s probably leaving the company or maybe he’s
even getting dressed. He did say he’d do his best to meet up.”
“He should hurry up sha. We already came late so…The others are coming
too, shey?”
Ayra nodded, putting her phone back in the bag. “Yep.” She smiled
excitedly. “I can’t wait to see what they wear. I mean, I know what

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Ibrahim’s wearing since I picked it out but the others have been secretive
with theirs.”
“They better slay. We cannot be fine for nothing.”
Ayra laughed. “True. Come on, let’s find the host.”
“Let’s do that.”
They found the host and she was lovely woman, her husband calm and
collected beside her. She introduced Ayra and Ibtihaj to many other people
who were more than happy to engage in small talk. When they asked where
Ibrahim was, Ayra told them with a polite smile that work held him back
and that he was going to be with them soon alongside the other members
of the squad. Ibtihaj, for her friend’s sake, said the same thing too when she
was asked.
However, the deeper they got into the party, the more Ayra felt as though
her wedding night was repeating itself. Ibrahim didn’t read or reply her texts
and at some point, his calls even stopped going through. Ibtihaj, who’d
tried to contact the others, faced the same thing. Her texts went
unanswered and calls went to voicemail.
As the woman who dressed as Lady Whistledown gave her speech, Ibtihaj
faced Ayra who’d stopped smiling. “I don’t think they’re coming.”
Ayra said nothing but Ibtihaj saw how Ayra tried to act as though she
wasn’t hurt and she hated it. She put her hand on the Ayra’s. “Should we
leave?”
Ayra managed a small smile but it was so fake, it didn’t reach her eyes. “I
think we should. We should say goodbye to the host.”
“And if they ask about Ibrahim?”
“We’ll tell them he couldn’t end up making it. He needs to have an
explanation. He was very excited to be here.”
“Well,” Ibtihaj wanted to find him and slap him to the Atlantic Ocean. “For
your sake, I hope that’s the case.” She pushed her chair back and stood.
“Come on, let’s go. I know you’ll be dropping me home first but you
should keep me updated.”
Ayra nodded, standing too. “I will.”
They said goodbyes, each person saying that they were leaving early but
understanding that both women – as they’d lied – had things to do. They –
Ayra and Ibtihaj – were both given bags filled with goodies and they smiled
for pictures before they said goodbyes once again and left. The driver – one

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of those from The Oasis – was on standby and he drove them towards
Haven Estate. Ibtihaj worriedly glanced at her unusually quiet best friend.
“Ayra.”
“I’ll be fine. I just want to hear why he missed it.”
Ibtihaj could only nod, her mind reeling too. They dropped her off and
Ayra got the chance to say hi to Salama and Muhsin who wondered why
Ibrahim wasn’t with her. She laughed, lying through her teeth that Ibrahim
had missed the party because something came up at work but that he was
going to make it up to her. They bought it and they let her go.
On the way back to Downtown Aomi, her phone beeped with a new
notification. She clicked on it and it took her straight to Instagram, to a new
post made on The Hexad Squad account; one that had been inactive for a
few months.
In the new post, the squad stood in front of a full wall mirror, all with
smiles on their faces, their arms around each other’s shoulders while
Anneth – who stood in the middle – held the phone up. Ayra recognised
their location. It was Kingstone, a new restaurant in the Business and
Institutional Area that a lot of people were talking about. With a heart that
was sinking deeper and deeper, Ayra looked away from the picture, down to
the caption.
the_hexad_squad: It’s been a while! You end a day like this with a
good meal, good music, and strong friendship. Happy Valentine’s Day,
y’all. Wishing you lots and lots of love.
Back at Haven Estate, Ibtihaj stared at the post and she gripped the phone
tighter, seeing red.

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18
Ayra was standing on the other side of the door when Ibrahim finally
returned home. She was still in her dress but the make-up and every other
accessory was gone. Her arms were folded and she had no smile on her
face.
Ibrahim took her in and cursed. “Shit, there was the Bridgerton party.”
She couldn’t help the scoff that slipped past her lips. “Seriously, Ibrahim?
That’s what you’re going to say? There was the Bridgerton party?”
“Ayra, I’m sorry.”
“I think I deserve more than that.”
He stepped in, letting the door fall shut behind him. “Ayra –”
Her brows furrowed when she caught a whiff of a smell she despised. “Is
that alcohol? Ibrahim, please tell me you didn’t drink.”
“I didn’t.” He said it immediately. “I didn’t drink.”
Her heart was plummeting. “You reek of alcohol.”
He ran his hands through his hair, nearly pulling at the curls. “I swear I
didn’t drink. Tobi clumsily spilled his drink on me while going after this
lady at the restaurant. I didn’t drink. You can call the others and ask. I don’t
drink, Ayra. You know that.”
Her heart kept sinking. “So where were you? I called you over and over.”
Her voice rose. “I sent you countless texts. You never called back, never
responded, and didn’t leave any message to say you were no longer coming
and I have to come across a post on IG shortly after leaving the party that
you and the others went out to have fun?! Seriously, Ibrahim?!”
“Ayra –”
She reached up to massage her temple that began to softly throb. Despite
knowing the answer, she asked “Where were you?”
He let his head drop, blowing out a breath. “Kingstone.”
“Why couldn’t I reach you?”
“My phone was on DND.”
“And the party?”
His voice dropped. “I forgot.”

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She stilled and then her hand dropped. She felt too much at that moment
and she nearly stumbled back at how it all hit her at once. Underneath all
the emotions was her inner self who was struggling to come up with an
excuse for him because the Ibrahim she knew and loved didn’t just forget
stuff, especially something that was not on short notice.
“You forgot?” She could barely hear herself as her voice was a whisper.
“Ibrahim, how –”
“I know it’ll seem like I’m lying but I swear, I forgot. I also swear that I’m
telling you the truth. The meeting stretched and then we had to have
another one because something came up with Little Walker that needed to
be settled as soon as possible because we’re finalising the launch dates and
all of that. The party was the last thing on my mind, I swear. It was the last
thing on all our minds because we were exhausted.”
He paused briefly to breathe and then he continued. “When we finished, we
ended up picking Nathaniel up from work because his car broke down and
he was just tired and frustrated. Then there was this little accident with a
patient of his and we had to help. One thing led to the other and it was a
whole lot and we all wanted to cheer up so we decided to head to
Kingstone. My phone was on DND since I got to the office and I haven’t
looked at it since then.”
“And the others? Someone had to have seen our calls and messages.”
“The others have their phones on DND too and they are wasted, Ayra. I’m
the only sober person and I’m so sorry all of this happened while you were
waiting for me. I fucked up and I’m going to make it up to you and Ibty.
I’m really sorry, Ayra.”
Her vision blurred with tears. “That’s not making any sense. How could
you forget so easily? We were excited for this. All of us were. However,
only I and Ibty show up while you go with the others to experience
Kingstone and then proceed to have more fun to the extent that they all get
wasted and you get doused in alcohol.”
His face was contoured in pain. “Ayra, I’m sorry. I swear I am and I’m
going to make it up to you.”
“How?” A tear slid down her face. “How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know how right now but I’ll fix this. By tomorrow morning, I
swear I’ll fix it. Please trust me. I messed up and I’m so, so sorry. I don’t
mind apologising for as long as you want me to. I’m really sorry, Ayra.”

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She wanted to hit him. She also wanted to hug him and kiss him. She
wanted to be mad but her resolves were breaking and all she wanted to do
was have him hold her. He’d been making up for all they’d missed in
January so she knew he’d definitely make up for this too but it still hurt.
Ibrahim took a step forward. “Ayra…”
She stepped back. “You should get out of that shirt and then get a shower.
I don’t like the stench of alcohol and Tobi’s definitely hearing from me.”
She turned around and walked into the house. “I’ll be in my room.”
He didn’t try to stop her and she hated it and loved it at the same time. She
went straight to her room and called Ibtihaj who was livid.
“I just spoke to that ŏdĕ named Tobi.” Ibtihaj said. “He’s drunk like the ŏdĕ
he is! Can you imagine what that baboon told me? That they forgot.” She
laughed dryly. “Na juju be dat? Is Ibrahim finally home?”
Ayra sat on the loveseat. “He just came in. He explained everything.”
“Please tell me the explanation makes sense because I want to commit mass
murder.”
Ayra rested against the backrest, sighing. “It does actually make sense but I
don’t want to think about it because I’m feeling too much at once. He’s
promised to make it up to me.”
“Better don’t forgive him easily. Ah an, what kind of nonsense is that?
Ayra, don’t let love blind you this time. He needs to plead. Which one is
they forgot? What next is he going to forget? That you two are married?”
Ayra sat up straight, a stab of fear hitting her square in the chest. “Ibty,
don’t say that. Take it back. God forbid.”
“God forbid, my dear. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that level.”
“In Shaa Allah it won’t.” She was never going to let it happen. “They forgot
and Allah knows best but I trust Ibrahim and he’s going to make it up to
you and me so let’s see how it all plays out.”
Ibtihaj groaned. “Ayra…This man needs to grovel. How can he miss a
whole Bridergton party?”
“Let’s not let this drain us further. I’m in my room now and I told him to
get showered. I just want to sleep. I can deal with him tomorrow.”
“I hope he didn’t drink.”
“Nope, he is very sober. Tobi spilled alcohol on him though.”

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Ibtihaj hissed. “Ŏdĕ. That man is too foolish. Thank God Ibrahim didn’t
drink sha because if you had chosen to overlook that, I would have slapped
you to the extent that you’ll meet your ancestors the way Avatar met those
former Avatars.”
Ayra had to laugh. “Ibty, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my dear. Sleep well o. Let that man be very apologetic.
They’re not well, all of them.”
Ayra said goodbye again and then she hung up. She sat for a moment
longer, breathing in and out to clear her head before she stood and
stripped. She dumped the clothes she’d worn in the laundry basket and then
stepped into the bathroom.
The shower spray blessed her skin with warm water and she soaked it in for
minutes, letting it wash everything away. Her eyes flew open when she felt
his presence behind her. She didn’t turn around, watching as he reached for
her soap and sponge that sat on the wall rack. A near minute later, the soap
bar was back in place and softly, he began to wash her up, starting from her
left side and moving to the right.
“I’m sorry, Ayra.”
Her heart and brain went into war for the first time when it came to him;
her heart demanded she forgave him while her brain surprisingly said he
could go to hell for one night, sounding so much like Ibtihaj. Ibrahim
continued washing her up, kissing the back of her head. “I’m really, really,
really sorry.”
Her heart and brain kept fighting and her heart – which she listened to even
when everyone else told her not to – won. Sighing, she turned around as he
turned the shower on so the lather on her body could wash off. His
remorse was as clear as day and it was crazy how she felt a little guilty.
She sighed again. “You have a lot of making up to do. Not just you,
everyone else. And not just to me, Ibty too.”
He nodded with no hesitation. “I’ll make it up to both you, I promise. The
others would too. I’ll make sure of it…I’m really sorry, Ayra.”
“You’re married to me, Ibrahim, so I need to be able to get through to you
even when your phone’s on DND.”
“I’ve adjusted the settings already and I’ve placed an order for another one
which I’ll use strictly for you and Ibty.”

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It was impressive how she hid the fact that she’d swooned. “And you can’t
get excited with me over a party, assure me that you’ll be there, and then
not show up. It doesn’t work that way and it should never happen again.”
“I promise it won’t.”
“Good.”
“Am I forgiven?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s see how you make up for tonight first. That’ll
determine when you get forgiven.”
He gulped, nodding a moment later. “I guess I deserve that…I’m really
sorry, Ayra.”
She sighed, hugging him and finding her usual solace in the rhythm of his
beating heart. “I know.”
They stayed in the bathroom until she began to fall asleep against him. He
carried her out, got her skin oiled, and then helped her into a silk nightdress
that brushed her knees. She fell asleep with him holding her and when they
woke up to pray Fajr, she found it hard to keep her eyes open. She went
back to sleep immediately they finished and hours later, she woke up to an
empty room.
Frowning, she got out of bed and left the room. The family lounge and his
room were empty. She heard voices coming from the lower floor so she put
on the first dress she came across, covered her hair with a cap, ensured she
was presentable and then headed down. She stopped in her tracks at the
entrance to the living room, her heart jumping to her throat.
The living room had been redone and staring back at her was a mini-replica
of the Bridgerton party she’d attended with Ibtihaj the previous night.
Standing in the middle of it all were the members of the squad, all dressed
as one character or the other, with apologetic smiles and expressions on
their faces. Sitting on one of the chairs was Ibtihaj. She had a scowl on her
face but she took small bites of the cupcake she held. The scene was so
funny to Ayra.
“I am still very angry at them,” Ibtihaj told her best friend, her scowl
deepening. “But they brought a limo to pick me up and they promised me
free food and my mother said that we should not waste food.” She then
glared at Tobi. “I still think he’s an ŏdĕ sha.”
Ayra burst out laughing and her heart jumped when Ibrahim walked over,
dressed perfectly as the legendary Duke of Hastings. He took her hand in

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his, smiling warmly. “I promised to make it up to you with them. They’re all
hung-over but they know better than to not be here.”
Ayra did her best to not smile but it was hard. “I do deserve it. Ibty too.”
He nodded. “You do…Love you, Ayra.”
She smiled then. “I love you too.”
The others rushed over, pouring thousands on apologies on her which
made her smile until she couldn’t smile any wider. She ended up laughing
when Bella and Anneth began showering her with warm kisses.
Ibtihaj, who’d been profusely apologised to already, watched everything
play out. She knew Ayra was going to forgive them and move on from it
but she – Ibtihaj – knew better than to just sweep it all under the rug. She
was going to be attentive until she was convinced she’s only being paranoid
over nothing. Ayra deserved the whole world and she was going to make
sure no one hurt her or gave her less than she deserved.
She loved Ayra that much.
♣
The weekend following that of Valentine’s, Ayra and Ibrahim decided to
have lunch with her parents and dinner with his.
Muhsin and Salama were overly excited to have them over and Ayra let
herself get hugged and showered with kisses by her mother in the foyer.
Laughing, Muhsin led Ibrahim into the house, leaving the two women
alone.
Salama stepped back and cupped her daughter’s face. “You look so good,
Leilani.”
“You saw me last week, after the party.”
“And I have missed you since then.”
Ayra hugged her again. “I have missed you too.”
“Liar.”
Ayra smiled against the older woman’s chest, saying nothing. They
eventually left the foyer and joined the men in the second living room. Ayra
sat beside her husband while Salama sat beside hers and the conversations
flowed easily; what they’d been up to and how they’d been. When Salama
and Muhsin asked how married life was going for them so far, Ayra and
Ibrahim exchanged looks with smiles on their faces before turning back to
the older ones.

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“It’s nice.” Ayra replied. “We’re still settling into everything, especially with
our schedules but it’s going well.”
Ibrahim nodded, crossing one leg over the other. “It’s the best thing.”
Salama looked between the both of them. “And there are no problems,
right?”
Ayra shook her head. “Nope. We’ve had little issues but we’ve settled
them.” She smiled at Ibrahim, recalling how the past week had been
nothing short of beautiful with all the gifts he’d showered her with. “He’s
really good at making up for things he’d missed.”
Ibrahim lowered his head, clearly a little shy. “Well, we were told to not let
issues drag between us so…”
Ayra only smiled wider. Salama and Muhsin, who felt like the third and
fourth wheels, cleared their throats to remind the lovebirds that they were
still there. They all ended up laughing about it and then they proceeded to
the yard where the table had been set as the weather was just perfect for an
outdoor meal. Ayra stuffed her stomach, assuring Ibrahim she’d still be able
to eat plenty for dinner.
“Better not throw up later.”
She nodded, helping herself with the chocolate rice pudding. “Sure.”
Salama could only smile, glad the both of them were alright. They stayed
until Asr and then dropped the fruit basket they’d come with despite
Salama and Muhsin stating they didn’t have to. Goodbyes were said and
then Ibrahim and Ayra headed to the Adeola home to say hi. Falilat was
over the moon to have them over and they – Ayra and Ibrahim – had to
drill it into her head that they weren’t staying long when she started putting
things in place to prepare a meal for them. She only let it go when they
promised to visit another day.
Ibtihaj, when she came down, stuck to her friend’s side and she glared at
Ibrahim. “Oga Fahad.”
He smiled sweetly. “Hello, Ibty. I’m sorry about last week.”
Ayra rolled her eyes. “Ibty, let it go. They made up for it.”
“Leave me abeg. It’s up to me to decide when he and all of them can stop
apologising.”
Ibrahim chuckled. “I don’t mind. The others don’t do.”
Ayra spoke before Ibtihaj could. “I mind.” She faced her best friend.
“They’re sorry. They made it up to us too with a party that was even better

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than the one we attended and they’ve been apologising. It’s okay, Ibty.
Come on.”
Ibtihaj sighed. “Be lucky I love you.”
Ayra hugged her, smiling widely. “I love you.”
Over her best friend’s shoulder, Ibtihaj shot Ibrahim the “I’ve got my eyes
on you” sign and he simply smiled, his hands behind his back. Five minutes
later, they were on their way to Monwict. Ibrahim’s hand moved from the
steering wheel to take one of Ayra’s, pulling her attention away from the
tinted window glass.
He smiled, his eyes on the road. “We’ll be launching Little Walker
worldwide in the first week of April.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?!”
He nodded. “I am. We’re still yet to fix a definite date but first week of
April it is. The errors have been dealt with and Atlantica’s version is ready
to launch but we have to be sure all other countries have their own versions
ready before the launch date and we can do that throughout March.”
She read into his words and pouted slightly. “Is that your way of saying
you’ll be busy?”
He nodded again. “Unfortunately. It also means we’ll be traveling a lot
too.” He glanced her way as they approached Palm Drive. “I’m sorry.”
She turned to the road, sighing. “It’s fine. You have work to do.” She
sighed again. “Besides, I’ll be working on my dissertation so I know I’ll be
fine.” She then smiled. “I’ll disturb Ibty.”
He laughed. “I have no doubt that you would…I hope she doesn’t hold us
missing the party against us for much longer.”
She squeezed his hand that held hers, her smile widening. “That’s just how
she is. She’s cool with you all but she doesn’t want to say it yet. She’ll come
around very soon, I promise, and then we’ll have fun.” She then made a
face as she realised. “We actually haven’t all hung out together to have fun
this year. You, me, Ibty, and the squad.”
His brows furrowed and he had to pause the conversation to clear with
security. Upon recognition, they were granted access. Ibrahim returned to
the conversation. “We haven’t?”
“Yep. We’ve all been busy, you guys more than Ibty and I, and we were
supposed to hang out during the party but that didn’t work out and then
during the one we had to make up for the one you all missed, they were

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hungover so we didn’t have as much fun as we would have had on a normal
day. It was still fun though.”
His frown became apparent. “Huh…We’ll definitely have to change that.
Let’s just get Little Walker out of the way.”
She nodded. “Sure, let’s do that.”
“Thank you, Ayra.”
“You’re welcome.”
The Fahads – Salim, Fareeda, and a number of Ibrahim’s uncles and aunts
who were visiting (which Ibrahim and Ayra had no prior knowledge of) –
were waiting for them in one of the reception rooms. While Salim and
Fareeda were very excited to have them over, only a number of the uncles
and aunts present were politely happy to see Ayra. They were happier to see
Ibrahim and Ayra did her best to not let it get to her.
Dinner was fully Japanese and Ayra was glad she’d stuffed her stomach at
her parents place because while the meals the Fahads had prepared were
good, the dinner atmosphere wasn’t as nice as she’d imagined it would be.
The conversations revolved around politics and tech and she was only
included in very little. So, she focused on her food, taking little portions of
what was offered. When the table was cleared and the conversation
continued, she found peace in Ibrahim holding her hand and did her best to
push down the feeling of being an outsider.
She shouldn’t have been so happy when Ibrahim said they really, really had
to leave but she was and she did her best to not seem like it so it didn’t
come off as rude. Goodbyes were said and with a promise to visit another
time, she and Ibrahim left. On the way home, she sighed. “Well, that went
well.”
“Sorry, the conversations are hard to stop when the house is full. I hope
you didn’t feel left out.”
She shook her head, his apology washing away everything she’d earlier felt
and leaving her feeling all fluttery inside. “It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m glad.”
They had their baths when they got home, made out for a little while in the
living room, and then decided to watch Malcolm & Marie as it was on both
their watch lists. Halfway through, Ayra fell asleep and when Ibrahim
tucked her in bed later, she half consciously opened her eyes.
“You’re sleeping here, right?”

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“I need to go down for a bit. I’ll be back in like an hour or so.”
She frowned adorably. “Why?”
“Bella’s running an application and she just texted, asking if it’s alright for
me to come down and check through some codes. I would have postponed
it to tomorrow morning but I want to have the whole of tomorrow with
you.”
She smiled at that, snuggling deeper into the pillows. “Don’t stay long.”
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I won’t.”
“I love you.”
“Right back at you, sweetheart.” He got off the bed, standing. “What else is
there to feel?”

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19
Just as Ibrahim said, The Hexad got busier than ever with the upcoming
release of Little Walker and the application created a worldwide buzz that
made Ayra really proud of her husband and their friends. Ibtihaj was
impressed too.
If there was something Ayra loved, it was the fact that on some days,
Ibrahim made an effort to come home early just to spend an hour or two
with her before retiring to the home office to continue working. On some
days, when he had an issue he couldn’t handle alone, he went down to
Bella’s place or Bella came up to their place and Ayra let them be. She
usually stayed in her space during such times, working on her own
dissertation and going through notes while being happy that her husband
was home or close-by.
March 4th was a Thursday and all her classes were cancelled for one reason
or the other. Glad to have enough time on her hands, she called Ibtihaj
because although Ibrahim didn’t go to work, he was at Bella’s place as they
had some coding to do before they booked tickets for their Saturday trip to
Argentina with the others – except Nathaniel who was very busy at the
hospital.
“Omo, I wanted to call you too.” Ibtihaj said when Ayra requested they
hung out. “But Mummy said I need to come with her to the market.” She
hissed. “If I knew sef, I wouldn’t have shouted that I don’t have class today.
Sorry, dear. Let’s reschedule.”
“No problem.” Ayra smiled as she took in the view from the living room.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”
“Yep. Don’t get too bored before tomorrow.”
“I won’t. Enjoy your market trip.”
“Ayra, I swear to God –”
Laughing, Ayra hung up. She stood there for a minute longer before a plan
came together, causing her to grin. After all, she was free and Bella was
home which meant she could finally visit and get a tour of the Italian
beauty’s home. She rushed up to her room and grabbed an open abaya
which she wore over her vest and jeans. Using a cap to cover her hair, she
changed her home slippers for flip-flops and then left the house,
remembering to grab her phone from where she’d left it in the living room.
The short ride down to the eighth floor was nice and Ayra had a skip in her
step as she walked over to Unit 8C. She happily rang the doorbell and

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smiled at the security camera. She smiled wider when a familiar chuckle
reached her ears and then the door went open. Ayra grinned. “Hi!”
Bella, dressed in a waffle knit tee and tie waist shorts lounge set from Shein
with her hair in a messy bun and fuzzy slippers on her feet, grinned right
back. “Hi! Don’t tell me you’re missing Ibrahim already. Should I kick him
out and send him back up with you?”
Ayra shook her head, laughing. “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m here for
you actually.”
Bella’s expression brightened. “Really?”
“Yep! I’m free since my classes were cancelled and this is the first time I’m
not busy or tired when you’re home so I came for my long overdue tour of
Isabella Valentino’s home.”
Bella laughed. “It’s really an overdue tour.” She then stepped aside, opening
the door wider. “Come in then. Benvenuto a casa mia e del mio amante
(Welcome to mine and my lover’s home).”
Ayra giggled as she stepped in. “I’m going to pretend I understood all of
that.”
“I’m telling you welcome.”
“Well, that wasn’t far from…” Ayra’s eyes widened as she took in the foyer.
“Whoa.”
Bella’s foyer was the exact same size as Ayra and Ibrahim’s but her walls
were white while every accessory was black, all of which went well with the
tiled floors that illusionised wood. A round, black framed mirror sat on the
left wall and right below it was a minimalist Scandinavian console table with
thin, black legs. The table held a Tyler table lamp, a black vase with faux
flowers, an empty grey vase, a big jarred scented candle, and a tiny basket
for keys. Underneath the table was a black basket that held woollen scarves,
beanies, and nicely rolled socks.
On the opposite wall was a framed photo of a male and female silhouette.
The male had an arm around the female’s shoulders and she leaned into
him. It was a beautiful picture and Ayra couldn’t help but smile as she asked
“You and Serkan?”
Bella nodded, smiling too. “Me and Serkan.”
“It’s pretty.”
“Thank you. Come on, let’s go in.”

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They crossed the foyer and stepped into the living room. Like their
apartment, Bella’s had a really nice view. The only difference was that she
saw more of Downtown Aomi than the ocean. The space, just like the
foyer, was painted white and the double height curtains were black. Her
sectional sofa was black too and it was an extra-long ‘U’ with a lot of
cushions in different colours which matched the camouflaged rug that
covered most of the tiled floor. The coffee table was a cute cube and so
were the side stools. Right above the huge LED TV was yet another picture
of Bella and Serkan and it pulled Ayra in.
The photo was dark, highlighting the sunset in the distance. Only Bella
turned to smile at the camera while Serkan’s back was all Ayra could see.
His hair was long, full, and curly and it was captured being ruffled by the
wind. Dressed in knee length shorts and an extra loose top, he seemed
familiar and Ayra told herself it was because she’d seen him on the day of
the Nikkah.
She faced Bella. “Has he come to Aomi since the day of the Nikkah?”
Bella blew out a breath. “He hasn’t. He’s lucky I love him because I’m this
close to telling them at the reception that I no longer know a man named
Serkan Yildraz.”
Ayra laughed. “You know you can’t do that.”
“Unfortunately.” She then smiled fondly at the photo. “This photo was
taken at Cape Town and I wanted to keep it in the album we came back
with but he wanted us to have it framed…Sometimes, I hate that I have to
hide him but I really don’t want people prying. They should learn to mind
their business.”
Ayra, who barely felt the craziness of being tracked by the media because of
the protection the Fahads provided right from the start, felt her chest
squeeze. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how it must feel.”
Bella sobered. “Nah, it’s fine. I know what I signed up for so…” She then
turned, heading towards the left side of the house. “Come on. Let’s surprise
Ibrahim.”
Bella took Ayra to the home office that doubled as a study and the latter’s
jaw had to hit the ground. Ibrahim, who’d been working behind one of the
set up computers, pushed his chair back, clearly surprised. “Ayra?”
Ayra was too stunned to even hear him. Bella laughed, walking over. “She’s
here for her overdue tour and I’m taking her round.” She put her hands on
the desk and leaned forward, staring at the rows of codes displayed on the
screen. “Fixed it?”

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Ibrahim nodded, moving his chair closer to the desk. “Yeah. Remind me to
kill Tobi. He was trying to be sneaky and ended up missing a line. Fixed it.”
He then looked at his wife who took small steps around, still stunned. He
chuckled. “Oh Ayra.”
Bella’s home office was a tech person’s dream. She had four workstations
set up in every corner with the latest computers and appliances. The wall
shelves were lined with books and magazine files and then there was a
whiteboard which had calculations Ayra knew better than to try to
unscramble. There were small paintings on the wall and it took Ayra a
moment to realise that some of the paintings were of Bella and the others
of Serkan – paintings that hid his identity well by blurring his face or by
being shadowy or with flowers and butterflies.
Ayra finally turned towards Ibrahim and she blushed when she saw the
amused look on his face. She walked over. “Hi.”
He let her plant herself on his laps. “Hi…You looked like a kid in a candy
store.”
“Can you blame me?” She turned to Bella who had her arms folded with a
smile on her face. “Your home office is beautiful.” She turned back to
Ibrahim. “I can see why you come down here to work. If I was into
everything you guys do, I’d come down here to work too.”
Bella unfolded her arms and poked Ibrahim’s head playfully. “I keep telling
him to set up your home office like this so I can come up more but he just
keeps stalling.”
Ibrahim rolled his eyes. “My home office is fine as it is.”
“Sure.” Bella said. “Keep telling yourself that. You know when Serkan
returns, you’ll be working from your own office.”
That got Ayra’s attention. “Serkan’s into tech too?”
Bella nodded. “Yep. He’s a software developer and two of these
workstations are his.” She pointed at them. “That one and that one. Once
he’s in here, it’s a lot to take him out.”
Ibrahim pushed her away and focused on Ayra. “You good?”
She nodded. “I am! I wanted to hang out with Ibty but she isn’t free so I
decided to come down for my overdue tour since we’re all home and I’m
neither tired nor busy. So far, I’m blown out of my mind. Ibrahim, Bella’s
house is so beautiful. It’s tempting me to get some changes made at our
place.”

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His smile vanished. “No.”
“But –”
“No, no, no.” He wasn’t having it. “Our house is perfect and very cosy. I
don’t want white walls and black accessories. Let Serkan and Bella deal with
that alone.”
Bella slapped the back of his head. “My house is perfect!”
Ibrahim wasn’t fazed by her hit. He didn’t look away from Ayra. “Our
home is perfect the way it is so let’s leave it that way, okay?”
Like the lover she was, Ayra nodded with a stunning smile. “Okay.” She
glanced at the screen, tried to make sense of the codes, and gave up. She
turned back to Bella. “Let’s continue the tour, Bella.”
Bella nodded. “Let’s do that.”
Ayra kissed Ibrahim’s cheek before getting off his laps. “We’ll back soon.”
He nodded, smiling at her. “Take your time.”
Acting as though she was sick of them sharing love in front of her, Bella
grabbed Ayra’s hand and pulled her out, slamming the door behind them.
Giggling, Ayra let Bella lead the way. The kitchen was divine with off-white
walls, high gloss metallic champagne cabinets, and the countertops and
backsplash that were black sintered stone with dramatic gold veins. Instead
of a dining table, there was a modernised breakfast nook with two stools
that had wired legs.
The laundry room was cosy and Ayra happily headed up behind Bella. The
family lounge was a cosy space with two cushioned hammock chairs and a
projector screen on the wall to stand in place of a television. Unlike their
own apartment, Bella’s apartment only had two rooms and she explained
one was for Serkan while the other was for her even though they slept in
whatever room they liked. Both rooms had similar designs; three white
walls and the wall behind the bedframes being dark grey, blackout curtains,
extra soft rugs, nightstands and night lamps, walk-in closets that held both
their clothes, loveseats with cushions and then the balconies that had raffia
chairs.
When the tour ended, Ayra curiously asked “How long have you and
Serkan been together?”
Bella smiled, leading the way back to the family lounge. They each sat on a
hammock chair. “Oh, we go way back. It’s been more than a decade. We
should be celebrating thirteen years of being together this year.”

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Ayra’s eyes were wide. “Are you serious?”
Bella laughed. “I am. I only made the information about me having a lover
public because no one wanted to stop asking and it got annoying. Serkan
and I go way back to Leicester.”
“He attended the same university with you guys.”
“He did. We were course mates but he was the quiet one. I can’t tell you
what led to the other but we got together and I liked the fact that there was
no pressure to tell anyone. By the time the squad found out, Serkan and I
were deeply and crazily in love with each other and even they couldn’t
understand how I’d managed to keep it under wraps. It was a very long
time before they even got to meet him.”
Ayra was stunned. “Wow.”
Bella laughed again. “It’s crazy, I know, but I wouldn’t go back to change
anything. Having someone love me for me is amazing and knowing that
this is someone the world has no idea about is thrilling. Also, he’s the best
person and I couldn’t have asked for someone better.”
“But,” Ayra hesitantly asked. “If you’ve been together that long, why
haven’t you two gotten married?”
Bella looked away, her smile sad. “His parents don’t approve.”
Ayra’s chest squeezed. “Are you serious?”
Bella nodded. “I am. His parents are Muslim and they want a Muslim
woman for him so…” She shrugged. “We broke up because of it at some
point because they really wanted him to get married to someone else but
the heart wants what it wants so we ended up coming back to each other.”
Ayra could only stay quiet. Bella then shook her head and brightened once
again. She turned to Ayra, her smile beautiful. “So we’re just living our best
lives without committing. I have a feeling we’ll be getting to that soon, even
if we have to do it secretly, but until that time comes, I’m happy to be with
him, to be spoiled rotten by him, and also to be loved by him. The sex is a
big bonus too.”
Ayra nearly choked. “Bella!”
Bella smiled smugly. “Well, I don’t try to hide it. He’s great.”
“I’m not talking about that with you.”
They ended up laughing. When the laughter died down to small smiles,
Ayra spoke. “You’re really strong, Bella. Both of you are. I’m rooting for
you too. In Shaa Allah things would work out.”

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“Amen. Now, let’s –”
“Yo, Isabella! Ibrahim Fahad!”
Ayra frowned. “Is that Anneth?”
“Ayra, I heard you’re here too!” It was Jalal. “Where are all of you?!”
Ayra turned to Bella who was now on her feet with a grin on her face.
“They know your passcode?”
Bella nodded. “They do. They know the passcode of every apartment I
move into.” Colour stained her cheeks. “Let’s just say a few years back, I
partied too much and ended up passing out when I got home. They didn’t
hear from me so they broke down the door and since then…”
Ayra stood, as curious as a cat. “Now, I want to hear that story.”
Bella laughed. “I’ll share it with you. I promise…Come on, let’s go down. If
they’re all here, it means they brought food and I’m ready to bet on
everything I own that it’s Chinese.”
Ayra grinned, taking Bella’s hand. “Perfect! Thank you, for opening up to
me.”
Bella didn’t stop grinning as she gave the other’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“You’re most welcome.”
♣
Throughout March, Ayra kept her busy with schoolwork and Ibtihaj just so
she didn’t miss Ibrahim like crazy as he and the other members of the
squad were out of the country more than they were in it, putting everything
in perfect place for Little Walker which was even more anticipated than Ink
– their first application which changed the political landscape – had been.
Party invitations came open after the other and while Ayra politely attended
some, she declined others because she didn’t feel nice attending them
without Ibrahim. Each time she declined a party invitation, Ibtihaj sighed
and said “This marriage thing sef”. Each time, Ayra laughed and Ibtihaj
ended up laughing too.
By the start of April, both of them were four chapters into their
dissertations and they were more than eager to just get it over with. Talks of
future plans began coming up at school and since Ayra didn’t have to
bother about working, she didn’t give it much attention. She simply chose
to support whatever Ibtihaj chose to do and Ibtihaj was determined to take
her time to think it through. One thing was clear though; both women did

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not have the motivation or plans to move forward for a Ph.D. as the
master’s degree had sucked them dry.
On Monday April 5th, Little Walker was officially launched. While the
squad had made plans to be back in Atlantica in time for the launch, they
ended up launching it in New York. The statistics were crazy and the press
conference was even crazier. Ayra gladly watched the entire livestream and
when reporters asked who the squad wanted to thank most, Ibrahim – who
was usually quiet during such conferences – called Ayra’s name.
“She’s been a very supportive wife since we got married,” He said, sitting as
elegantly as ever. “And she’s been a motivation for so many things so it’s
only right that I let the world know just how grateful I am to have her.”
The conference host smiled teasingly. “Does that mean Mrs Fahad would
be using the Little Walker app consistently very soon?”
Every member of the squad laughed as Ibrahim’s cheeks darkened. Form
the living room where she watched everything, Ayra blushed too.
“No.” Ibrahim said in reply. “Not very soon because there are still some
things Ayra and I have to finish. But when that time comes, she’s not going
to use only Little Walker. I promised to customise an application for her
and I’m not going back on that promise. There are plans on ground
already.”
It was safe to say the world swooned and he was named Husband of the
Year alongside Nathaniel who’d come all the way to New York despite his
schedule to be part of the launch. It made Ayra wish she’d gone too. Ibtihaj
took the first cab she could find to Downtown Aomi as soon as the press
conference finished. Immediately Ayra opened the door, Ibtihaj grabbed
her and shook her.
“You! You didn’t tell me that Oga Fahad was making plans to make a
special app for you!”
Ayra’s eyes widened. “I didn’t?”
“Will I be here if you did?!”
Ayra smiled then. “I see you’re no longer acting as though you’re mad at
them.”
Ibtihaj stopped shaking her best friend. Clearing her throat, she looked
around the foyer as though she’d never been there before. “I never said I
didn’t stop being mad at them. I’m just being attentive so that the next time
they fuck up, I will kill them.”

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Ayra laughed. “They’re not going to fuck up again, I promise.” She then
hugged the other woman. “Thank you, for being the best friend ever.”
Smiling, Ibtihaj happily hugged her best friend back. “Anytime, Ayra.
There’s only very little I won’t do for you.”
Ayra grinned over the other’s shoulder. “I love you, Ibty.”
“I love you too.”
On Wednesday, Ayra woke up extra happy as it was the return date for
Ibrahim and the others and they’d assured her over and over again that they
weren’t pushing back their flight for anything. They really wanted to come
home, they said, and she was over the moon.
She took a long bath, not feeling guilty about skipping class, and then
settled on wearing a dress she had never worn before. It was a Hope & Ivy
lace trim wrap maxi dress in mink floral with long sleeves that covered her
arms. She pulled her hair back into a sleek bun, covered it with a cap and
then draped a black veil over her head, pinning it in place so it didn’t slip.
She then put on strap heels, gold bracelets, and applied subtle make-up
before she put her things in a bag.
Five minutes later, she was out of the apartment, heading down to the
lobby. Outside the main doors, the driver waited in front of Ibrahim’s new
Telluride with a polite smile on his face.
“Hello, Mrs Fahad.”
She smiled back, just as politely. “Hi, Tom.”
He opened the backdoor for her. “Raven Isle?”
She nodded and got in. “Raven Isle.” Before he could shut the door, she
added “We’ll stop at a flower shop on the way, please. I have to get a
bouquet.”
His smile did not waver. “Not a problem at all.”
“Thank you, Tom.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs Fahad.”
They did stop at a flower shop and Ayra ensured she got a very big bouquet
of lilies and carnations which she had to use both hands to carry. She
smiled throughout the drive to Raven Isle and by the time they got to the
airport, the flight tracker stated the squad’s flight was ten minutes away
from landing.

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There were reporters present and once they recognised her, they began
taking photos and throwing questions. Thankfully, the airport security
jumped into action and held the reporters back while Ayra was led to the
plane’s gate to await their arrival. It took a few minutes for the plane to land
and it was hard to stand still when excitement and nervousness balled into
one as she waited for the passengers of the plane to begin walking through
the arrival gates.
Behind her, cameras were flashing but she didn’t care. She just wanted to
see Ibrahim. It wasn’t long before she sighted them and Anneth – who was
the first one to notice Ayra – grinned, unlocked her phone, and held it up,
slowing down so Ibrahim could walk past her.
It was though Ayra was falling in love with him all over again as she
watched him approach in what felt like the slowest minute in history. He
was on the phone and he noticed her a moment later than the others. His
smile started out slowly until it became wide and breath-taking, taking her
heart straight to the ICU. To Ayra, the world became muted and all that
mattered was him. She forced herself to walk forward and they met in the
middle of their little path with him putting his phone in the pocket of his
blue coat.
He was still smiling and the cameras were still flashing. “You came.”
She nodded, smiling too. “I did. I wanted to be the one to welcome you.”
She held out the bouquet. “Congratulations on Little Walker’s official
launch and success. I am very, very proud of you, Ibrahim.”
He took the bouquet, stared at it for a moment with his smile and
expression softening, and then he moved it to his left hand, holding it at his
left side. Pulling her closer with his right hand and not caring about the fact
that there were so many eyes – and cameras – on them, Ibrahim kissed her
softly and Ayra, like always, melted into him, smiling against his lips.
When he pulled back, his eyes were so bright. “This is the best return I’ve
had.”
“I’m glad.” She then laughed. “I hope the others don’t kill me. I didn’t
come with another bouquet.”
He laughed too. “They wouldn’t dare. Besides, I’ll protect you.”
And like every other thing that concerned the both of them, Ayra did not
doubt it one bit.

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20
Ramadan began on April 12th and Ayra loved it because apart from the fact
that it was her first Ramadan as Mrs Fahad, Ibrahim had less workload so
he was at home more. What she didn’t like, however, was that school got
busier and she was the one who now spent long hours outside the house;
leaving early in the morning after forcing herself up from the post-Sahur
and Fajr nap, and then returning at least an hour after Asr.
Ibrahim made her feel better by being the sweetest person and it was
impossible for her to not fall deeper in love with him. He took care of
Sahurs and Iftars and on days when he couldn’t, he took her out. He
listened to her rant about how annoying school was being and he shared in
her annoyance too until she couldn’t help but start laughing. He helped her
complete her dissertation and he ran hers and Ibtihaj’s responses on his
system, creating the inforgraphics they needed. He was perfect and Ayra
revelled in it, glad she’d seen their first months as a phase when he was too
busy and wasn’t home a lot. They’d gone through the phase and she was
estastic about it.
Eid-el-Fitr was in May and it fell on a Thursday, right after she and Ibtihaj
rounded up their works and sent it for final editing and approval so they
could make the last corrections and then proceed to get it printed and hard-
bounded. Eid was lovely and Ayra had lots of fun with Ibrahim, both of
them spending the first half of the day at Haven Estate with her family and
Ibtihaj’s before moving to the Fahad Mansion for the Eid dinner. After
that, they headed to Jalal’s villa in the Eastside district for a party that
brought the young elites of Atlantica together with enough fun, music, food
and drinks to go round more than twice.
When they returned home in the early hours of Friday morning, Ayra let
herself get sated by Ibrahim and then they performed ghusl, prayed Fajr,
and were asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows on Ibrahim’s bed.
They stayed indoors the entire weekend and she loved every second; he
made sure of it.
Once the Eid bliss died, work and school resumed and slowly, both of
them fell back into the phase Ayra was glad they’d come out of during
Ramadan. On her end, her final exams and defence were around the corner.
On his end, there was a new application idea and they – the Hexad squad –
were more than excited to get started as it was proposed to help tourists
and locals keep with the new recreational spots and activities in Atlantica
with each state having its own version. So, both of them were out of the
house in the early hours of the day and they didn’t return until long after
Asr was prayed; Ayra returning most of the time earlier than Ibrahim did.

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Like she told herself the first time, she convinced herself once again that it
was all a phase and she couldn’t wait for them to be out of it.
For Ibtihaj, it was nice to see that Ayra was happy. She was still watchful of
the squad but she’d let most of her guard down as they’d been on their best
behaviour since the missed Bridgerton party. She still didn’t like the fact
that Ayra was the one who initiated conversations most of the time with
Ibrahim but her best friend was happy and that made Ibtihaj happy. School
stress kept them from hanging out as much as she would have loved so
they could have their heart-to-hearts but she – Ibtihaj – knew they’d make
up for it once they were done with everything and she honestly couldn’t
wait.
It wasn’t long before May gave way for June, bringing along with it the final
exams for the masters’ students of the University of Atlantica. Coffee
became Ayra’s best friend. To keep herself awake once Ibrahim was home,
she spoke to him about the most random things or made him her student
so she could explain all she’d read. He never once complained and she
always rewarded him with a sweet kiss. The papers were a lot of work and
on the day they wrote the final paper, she was more than happy to hand
over her booklet to the examiner and pull herself out of the examination
hall to wait for her best friend who was still answering question number
four.
The courtyard was littered with students who stood in groups to check if
they’d written the right answers and Ayra was too tired to even care so she
simply smiled at them and found a seat for herself. She put her bag on the
table and then held her head in her hands, hoping the throbbing stopped or
at least reduced. She needed to sleep and she couldn’t wait to get home to
do just that. She needed a massage too and she’d never been more grateful
for the spas The Oasis had. But she had to sleep first.
A little while passed before Ibtihaj joined her, slamming her bag on the top
of the table. “We’re done!” Her grin was wide and blinding as she occupied
the opposite chair. “We deserve a weekend in the best hotel suite and if we
have to break our savings, so be it.”
Ayra smiled warmly. “I can afford it for the both of us.”
“Oya, rub it in my face that Ibro gives you more money that you hardly use
on a monthly basis. Rub it in my face o.”
Ayra laughed. “Get out…How was the paper?”

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“Wó, my dear, thank God we’re done. I’m not going to do school anything
after this. Olorun ma je. God forbid. Let me even go and think about what I
want to do after this sef.”
Ayra folded her arms on the table. “I was going to ask by next week if you’d
thought of something.”
“I’ve been looking through some companies but I’m yet to shortlist them
sha…You that you’re not going to work, have you thought about what you
want to be doing in that house?”
Ayra shook her head. “Not yet. I just want to sleep first and get the excess
caffeine out of my system. There’s no rush and –”
Her phone rang and she fished out of her bag, smiling when she saw
Ibrahim was the one calling. Ibtihaj rolled her eyes but smiled anyways
because of how pretty her best friend looked. Ayra accepted the call and
brought the phone to her ear. “Ibrahim.”
“Hey, sweetheart. You done?”
“Yep. We just finished and we’re in the courtyard.”
“How was it?”
“Alhamdulillah. I’m just glad it’s over and I’m even happier that we’ll be
graduating next month instead of August like other years. This school has
drained me.”
He chuckled, making her usual butterflies flutter in her belly. “I can
imagine.”
Her cheeks were rosy. “You still at the office?”
“Nope…I’m in the parking lot of the University of Atlantica, ready to pick
up my wife and her best friend. I’ve been here for half an hour now.”
Her eyes widened and she couldn’t stop her gasp. She caught the clear
curiosity on Ibtihaj’s face. “You’re joking!”
He chuckled again. “I’m serious. A few people just recognised me and
seeing how they ran back in, I’m sure they’re heading your way.” He sighed.
“I made a reservation for you and Ibty at the newly opened Six Seasons at
Eastside. It’s a four days and five nights’ staycation in the Ocean-View
Villa. You two don’t have to pack anything, I’ve taken care of it all. All you
two have to do is come out here so I can drive you to your home for the
next four days and five nights. The exam season has been tough on you so
you deserve to be pampered. Both of you deserve it.”

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Ayra hung up, grabbed her bag and stood. Ibtihaj could only stare,
confused and curious. “Ayra, what’s –”
Ayra walked around the table and pulled her best friend up. “We’re about
to get that staycation you asked for.”
“I no understand wetin you dey –”
Ayra was already breaking into a run, pulling Ibtihaj with her. “You’ll
understand in a bit, I promise!”
Some colleagues met them on the way and excitedly told Ayra that Ibrahim
was in the parking lot. Ayra thanked them and kept running while Ibtihaj
put two and two together in record time. Just as he’d said, Ibrahim was in
the parking lot, leaning against the hood of his car. He smiled at the sight of
them and Ayra fell all over again.
When they got over, she barely gave him any room to speak. She pushed
Ibtihaj into the backseat, got into the front seat and then excitedly said
“Ibrahim, let’s go!”
He could only laugh before nodding and getting behind the wheel. “Alright,
sweetheart, we’re going.” He smiled at the woman in the back through the
rear-view mirror. “Hi, Ibty.”
Ibtihaj, who was doing a good job at hiding just how excited she was, gave
him a small smile and a nod. “Hello, Ibro.”
Ayra turned in her seat to glare. “I told you to stop calling him that.”
Ibtihaj smiled smugly. “He doesn’t mind it.”
Ibrahim laughed, putting the car in reverse. “I really don’t.”
As he drove them out of the campus, Ayra filled her best friend in. Totally
forgetting she was supposed to act as though she wasn’t so excited, Ibtihaj
joined Ayra in excitedly squealing while Ibrahim smiled beautifully as he
kept driving.
Six Seasons was the Atlantican subsidiary resort of the popular Four
Seasons and it was built just by Eastside’s beach. It was smaller than the
usual Four Seasons resorts but it was stunning and the views were
everything to write home about. It was also as expensive as it was beautiful
but it was nothing Ibrahim Fahad couldn’t handle.
They easily got checked in and the entire walk to their villa, Ayra and Ibtihaj
held each other like overly excited children while Ibrahim followed five
paces behind. The Ocean-View villa was amazing and it had everything to
make their staycation an experience; two queen sized beds with the softest

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pillows and cushions, a full bathroom with a deep soaking tub and double
vanity sinks with lighted mirrors, an outdoor shower, a sun deck, a veranda,
and an infinity edge pool. There was also a seventy-five inch HD TV with
unlimited entertainment and the resort manager – who’d personally been on
ground to welcome them – let both women know they could get a
DVD/CD player on request.
In the walk in wardrobe and its attached dressing area were two small boxes
with their names; the black for Ibtihaj and the white for Ayra. When they
faced Ibrahim, he shrugged as though it was no big deal. “I did tell you I’d
handled everything.”
That was all it took for Ayra to run over and jump on him while Ibtihaj
simply smiled widely. Five minutes later, he was ready to leave and Ayra
chose to walk him back to the parking lot.
“Don’t worry about me and have fun with Ibty, okay? Like I said earlier,
both of you deserve it.”
Her smile was so beautiful. “Thank you, Ibrahim.”
With a smile, he stole an innocent kiss. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you on
Monday In Shaa Allah.”
She put her hands behind her, excitedly shifting her weight from one foot
to the other. “You will, In Shaa Allah. Don’t miss me too much.”
He smiled cheekily, opening the car door. “I’ll try my best. Monday better
come soon enough.”
Her smile widened. “I love you, Ibrahim.”
“Love you too, Leilani. What else is there to feel?”
And no one could blame her for how rosy her cheeks got. Back in the villa,
Ibtihaj happily called her mother to tell her she wasn’t coming home and
that she was going to have the time of her life, all thanks to her husband’s
best friend who she was still going to keep an eye on no matter what.
♣
Throughout the staycation, Ibtihaj ensured Ayra didn’t call Ibrahim even
once and each time Ayra opened her mouth to talk about just how much
she loved him, Ibtihaj hit her with a pillow and refused to listen until Ayra
shut up and spoke about something else.
Ibtihaj did it so they could talk about themselves the way they’d always
done before Ibrahim proposed and it was so beautiful to just be Ayra and
Ibtihaj, two best friends who had each other’s back no matter what. They

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went over memories and laughed about the most absurd experiences and
then they did everything they’d always wanted to do; couple dinners, couple
spa sessions, swimming under the starlit sky, enjoying the outdoor shower,
sipping wine while relaxing in bubble baths, and then lazing away on
expensively laid beds while watching movie after movie in nothing but
bathrobes and furry slippers.
On their last night, they sat by the edge of the pool, their legs in the cool
water while the breeze stayed chilly against their skin. Ayra sighed
remorsefully. “Why does this have to end?”
Ibtihaj snorted. “See me thinking you’ll be very happy to return to your
husband.”
Ayra smiled, looking up at the star filled sky. “I am excited to go back to
him but I loved our moments here.”
“You can now tell me thank you for making you shut up each time you
wanted to talk about him.”
“Get out.”
Ibtihaj laughed. “You wish. You’re stuck with me, babe. I’m not going
anywhere.”
Ayra’s smile widened. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
They stayed in silence for a few minutes before Ibtihaj quietly spoke. “I’ve
decided what I want to do when we graduate.”
Ayra turned away from the stars, surprised. “You have?”
Ibtihaj nodded, her gaze on the water. “I decided this morning. When you
went back to sleep after Subhi, I came across this ad. It’s for The Gateways.
They’re searching for remote communication officers and the job
description is beautiful. I know I’ll love it and since it’s remote, I don’t have
to worry about idiots working in the same office with me. The pay is mad
too.”
Ayra’s eyes were like saucers. “Ibty!”
Ibtihaj finally smiled. “It’s a big company, abi?”
Ayra, who knew just how huge the travel and tourism company was,
nodded eagerly. “It is! And you’re just the right person for the job!”
Ibtihaj got shy. “Stop it.”

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Ayra slapped her best friend’s arm. “I’m serious!” She then hurried to her
feet. “Oh my days. Stand up, Ibty! We need to send that application right
now.”
“I never do my CV o.”
Ayra wasn’t listening to any excuses. She pulled Ibtihaj up and then dragged
her into the villa. Glad they both had their tablets with them, they made
themselves comfortable on the beds they’d joined together and got started
on all they had to do. They created Ibtihaj’s CV from scratch and Ayra had
never been prouder to flaunt her best friend’s ability, selling her as the
perfect candidate.
Ibtihaj’s cheeks were on fire as she read all that was written, all facts that
could easily be backed with more than enough evidence. “God abeg.”
Ayra simply smiled even wider. Once they finished, they proceeded to The
Gateways’s official application site and filled in the requested information.
An impromptu test popped up at the end and although she’d not known
about such, Ibtihaj – with Ayra’s help – answered each question well. Once
the confirmation email was received, The Gateways stating they’d received
the application, Ayra hugged her best friend.
“You’re going to get it, Ibty. If they don’t see how good you are, then
they’re very stupid.”
Ibtihaj laughed against Ayra’s chest. “I should be the one doing the
cursing.”
“We are birds of the same feather after all.”
“You that is a delulu queen.”
Ayra blushed. “Leave me alone.” She hugged the other even tighter. “Khair
In Shaa Allah.”
“In Shaa Allah.” Ibtihaj let herself get hugged for a moment longer before
she pulled back, her expression serious. “Let’s talk about what you want to
do.”
“I’m going to be a full time house wife, Ibty, you know that.”
“I still think you should do something. You should keep yourself busy.”
“Something like what?”
Ibtihaj shrugged. “Content creation, anything. You’re good with those vlogs
stuff just like I’m good with my food photography. We both have a lot of
followers now thanks to your marriage to Ibrahim so you have the
audience. You can make those reels and shorts and before you know it, the

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paid partnerships would start coming in. I really think you should consider
it. You’ll be keeping yourself busy when Ibrahim’s not there and you’ll be
making money too.” She then wiggled her brows. “Money is always the
nicest part.”
Ayra laughed. “True…I’ll think about it, I promise. Between now and
graduation, I’ll think about it. You also know I have to talk with Ibrahim
too because our engagement is almost a year old and the discussion of kids
needs to be had.”
“Ah, that’s true.” Ibtihaj’s smile was naughty. “You’re going to be doing
even more bad things up and down now. As if all you’ve done is not already
enough.”
“Ibty, I swear to God –”
“Thank God we don’t have explicit conversations.” Ibtihaj pointed a finger.
“Because I’m sure both of you can sometimes behave like rabbits in heat
season. Especially you! With how clingy and physical you always are when
you’re about to be on your period.”
Ayra’s face was a ripened tomato. “I’m neither going to confirm nor deny.
We’re not having this conversation.”
“I don’t even want to have it.” Ibtihaj grabbed a pillow. “Are you ready to
have kids now though?”
Ayra shook her head. “Surprisingly, no. I’m so happy with just him and I
know a kid would be great but I don’t really feel ready for it. I’m not even
so crazy about it yet.”
“You should tell him. You shouldn’t have a kid when you don’t feel ready
for it. I know no one can be very ready for kids but at least you should be
excited about the thought of finally trying to have one.”
Ayra nodded. “That’s true. I’m just glad no one’s asking and there’s no
pressure.”
“If anyone tries to be unfortunate, send them my family’s way. They will
know emi ni omobinrin Falilat (They will know I am Falilat’s daughter).”
Ayra laughed. “At this point, I should start claiming I am half Yoruba.”
Ibtihaj nodded excitedly. “You should.” She then tossed the pillow aside
and pulled Ayra close, hugging her like a mother hugged her daughter. She
kissed her best friend’s head. “When the time eventually comes, I know
you’re going to be the best mother, just like Aunt Salama was the best
mother to you. And just like my mother was the best aunt from another

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mother to you, I’ll be the best aunt your children could ever ask for, and I’ll
spoil them rotten. They will come second sha because I will spoil you rotten
first. I promise. May Allah spare our lives.”
Ayra, who’d been moved to tears, sniffled. “Ameen…Thank you, Ibty.
Your kids aren’t going to find an aunt better than me.”
“I know that. Just don’t carry your delulu spirit enter my future house
abeg.”
Ayra laughed tearily. “I’ll try my best.”
Ibtihaj kissed her best friend’s head again. “I love you, Leilani. In Shaa
Allah, I’m always going to love you.”
“I love you too, Oluwatosin.” Ayra wrapped her arms tightly around
Ibtihaj’s middle. “In Shaa Allah I’m always going to love you.”

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21
July, 2021.
At 1:30AM in the early hours of Sunday July 4th, Ayra was startled awake
by the sound of a confetti gun going off. She nearly fell off the bed, scared
to death, but familiar strong arms caught her at the last minute and
Ibrahim’s laughter got through her scare haze a moment later.
She blinked until the fear faded away, leaving surprise in its place. Her heart
then began to race and her smile started out slowly. “Ibrahim?”
Ibrahim, who’d been away from Atlantica since she and Ibtihaj’s staycation
in June for meeting after meeting and conference after conference, smiled
when he stopped laughing. “Hello, sweetheart. Happy Birthday. I’m an
hour and a half late but it’s good enough, don’t you think?”
She wanted to cry. “You’re here.”
“I am.” He smiled even wider. “I made it clear at every country that the
squad and me had to get things wrapped up before July 3rd because there
was no way we were going to miss your birthday. I’ve been jumping from
one flight to the other since morning but it paid off. I’m here now.”
A small laugh bubbled out of her and she hugged him, breathing his
familiar scent in and finding a lot of peace in it. “God, I missed you.”
He kissed her hairline softly. “I missed you too…Happy Birthday, Ayra.”
She smiled against his chest, extremely happy he’d returned because she
assumed she’d be spending her first birthday while being married alone.
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” He then pulled back. “Your cake and present are
downstairs in the living room. I would have said we open it tomorrow after
Fajr but I’m exhausted and I don’t want to spend the whole day sleeping,
only to give you the present and have you blow out your candles when
we’re about to leave for the little party the squad’s throwing.”
She beamed. “You guys are throwing me a party?”
He looked at her as though she was crazy. “Are we not supposed to?
You’re important to us, Ayra, so it’s only right that you get a party the same
way every other person on the squad gets a party.”
Her face was radiant as she got out of bed. “I’m going to pee and then we’ll
head down, okay?”
He nodded, smiling right back at her. “Okay.”

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The trip to the bathroom revealed her period had made its monthly
appearance so she got changed and then they headed down. Sitting on one
of the coffee tables was a strawberry shaped cake that scarily looked real
and on the ground, sitting prettily was a box wrapped in fuchsia pink paper
with a white bow.
Ayra turned to her husband, her expression extremely soft. “Ibrahim…”
“I wanted them to make a Leilani cake but they said it was going to be a lot
of work on such quick notice so I told them to go with the strawberry
instead because it reminded me of Valentine’s morning when we had
chocolate coated strawberries. The cake better taste nice. It was expensive.”
Unable to help it, she laughed while he simply smiled. He got a candle and
lit it and she made a wish before blowing out the candlelight. He then got
them plates, forks, and a knife from the kitchen. Just like she loved her
cakes to be, the cake had three layers with whipped cream in-between and
she loved how moist it was as well as how heavenly it tasted.
Once she’d taken one too many bites and had thanked him over and over,
she put the plate and fork aside and then pulled the box closer. Now that
she was seated on the ground, the book seemed bigger and she nervously
glanced his way. “Ibrahim, what’s in here?”
He simply smiled, his forearms on his knees as he leaned forward while
comfortably sitting on the sectional. “Why don’t you open it?”
Still nervous, she turned back to the box, said a quick prayer, and then lifted
the lid. Her eyes proceeded to nearly pop out of their sockets. Staring right
back at her was a pink Polaroid camera and a digital to analogue Polaroid
photo printer. She slowly reached into the box and picked them up, turning
– still with wide eyes – to Ibrahim. He smiled boyishly. “I may have seen
you scrolling through Polaroid cameras when you took a break from
reading during exams so…”
“Oh my God…” She knew how much they cost and the fact that she’d
planned to give them to herself as a graduation gift, yet he’d beat her to it.
“Ibrahim…”
“There’s another box to open, sweetheart.”
She put the camera and photo printer aside before she pulled out the black
box left inside. She faced him in disbelief, a feeling of déjà vu hitting as she
recalled how a similar box had been delivered to her parents’ house when
they were still engaged. “Ibrahim, tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
“Then I won’t say anything.”

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Feeling giddy, Ayra opened the box and pushed aside the protective
covering. Her gasp was soft as she took in the baby pink dress neatly folded
within, yet another bottle of the perfume they both used since they’d gotten
married sitting nicely at the side of the box.
Ayra fell even more in love with him. “Ibrahim…”
“You should try it on.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She stood and removed her nightdress
with him watching before pulling the dress out of the box and putting it on.
It was sheer perfection and the fabric was extremely soft against her skin,
making her love it even more. The romantic tulle dress had fully off-
shoulder balloon sleeves which were attached to a skirted bodice that
clinched at the waist, decorated with silver flowers, before flowing out in a
full skirt to the ground. Giving into childish excitement, she twirled and
watched fascinatedly as the dress twirled with her.
Laughing, she faced Ibrahim and her breath hitched at his expression. He
stared at her as though he’d never seen something or someone so beautiful;
as though he’d witnessed a creation and he didn’t want to witness any more
creations because hers was perfection and nothing could come close.
Blood rushed to her cheeks so quickly that it made her a little dizzy. Her
voice was a whisper in the quietness of the wide space. “Why are you
looking at me like that?”
“I don’t think you have any idea how big of a perfection you are right now,
Ayra.” He whispered in reply. “I’m no painter but God knows if I could
create masterpieces with the strokes of brushes against canvas, I’d have
captured the radiance and happiness coming off you in waves.”
Her cheeks got even hotter. “Ibrahim…”
He pushed himself off the sofa and crossed the space between them.
“There’s just one thing missing.” He reached up and freed her curls from
the messy bun they were in, letting them fall past her exposed shoulders.
“There.” His eyes met hers and held them. “Perfect.”
Ayra could only stare at him and he stared right back, the concept of time
ceasing – once again when it came to them – to exist. He reached up to
caress her cheek, smiling when she leaned into his touch. “Today’s going to
be beautiful, Ayra.”
“It is…Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you.”

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She raised a brow. “You’re the one who gave me presents and made sure
you got here to celebrate with me. You’re part of those going to throw me a
party later.”
“And exactly a year ago, you said yes to my proposal. We got engaged a year
ago, Ayra. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
The truth in his words made her knees buckle and he easily caught her,
holding her against him. The memories of that day hit her like a truck and
she let out a small laugh. “It’s been a year already.”
“It has. It’s scary how time flies. It’s my best year though. I wouldn’t trade
it for anything else.”
She smiled at him. “Me too, Ibrahim.” She pushed herself to the tip of her
toes and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. “I would never trade it
for anything else.”
She kissed him and he reciprocated, holding her even tighter. When they
broke apart, she giggled. “God, I can’t wait for Ibty to see what I got. Her
birthday’s the day after tomorrow and I’m even more excited than she is.”
His expression changed and he cleared his throat. “About that…”
Bit by bit and piece by piece, her warmth, happiness, and excitement died.
Dread slowly filled up the spaces as she knew that look all too well. She
shook her head. “Ibrahim, please don’t tell me you’re travelling again.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
It felt as though she’d been taken from a blissful warm bath and then
dumped in ice cold water. She pulled away from him, shaking her head.
“No…”
“Ayra –”
“You’ve been away since the second to the last week of June, Ibrahim, and
you just got back. You can’t start leaving again.”
“I’m not supposed to be back yet, Ayra, but I couldn’t miss your birthday. I
had to break everything so the squad and I could be back. We wanted to
stay until Ibty’s but it’s impossible. Our schedule’s way too tight and we had
to choose between you and Ibty, and I’m more loyal to you than I am to
Ibty. You’re my wife, Ayra, and I have to celebrate you. I love Ibty as a
good friend but I need you to understand. Please.”
Her emotions swirled into a ball in her chest and she blinked her tears back
when they surfaced. “It’s not about the birthday right now, Ibrahim. I’ve
missed you every single day since you left and I’m so happy to have you

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back but you’re breaking my heart right now. You’re going to leave and I
have no idea when you’re going to be back.”
“I’m going to back soon. I didn’t want this to happen, Ayra, but with
applications such as Ink needing major updates and apps like Hello Atlantica
needing to be discussed thoroughly to ensure we’re not missing anything,
there’s only very little time to rest. We’re packed, Ayra, and I’m so sorry.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “Ibrahim, Eid is this month.”
“In Shaa Allah I won’t miss it.”
“My graduation is this month. We don’t have a date yet but they’ve
promised results and the IVs would be out tomorrow morning. Ibrahim,
you can’t start travelling now.” Her voice broke and so did her restraint
against her tears. “You shouldn’t start travelling now.”
He could pull her back into his embrace and kiss her hair. “We’ll wrap
things up as quickly as we can, Ayra. Trust me.”
It would…No, it should have been easy for her to trust him as she loved
him so much but the missed Bridgerton party which she thought she’d put
behind her popped back into her head alongside how busy he’d been since
Eid. She tried to push the thoughts down but it proved difficult so she gave
in to her tears and cried against his chest, her arms around his middle.
When she returned home back in June after she and Ibtihaj’s staycation,
she’d been excited to talk to him about how their future would look like but
he’d been in Bella’s place and when she headed down to meet them, he’d
told her the squad had to leave for New York for a series of meeting. She
expected him back in a few days, just like he’d said, but one week went by
and meetings kept popping up in the squad’s schedule alongside
conferences which moved them from one city to the other.
She always missed him when he travelled but for some reason, this had
been the worst and he’d been hard to get a hold of on the phone. Each
time she managed to get an opportunity, it felt as though it wasn’t enough.
Now she’d gotten so excited that he was back for her birthday and to stay
but he was saying the exact opposite and it scared her to death because he
wasn’t giving her a definite return date.
She wanted him back before Eid as she knew hers and Ibtihaj’s graduation
would fall either before or after the festive season and she couldn’t have
him miss the last academic graduation she planned on having. He’d already
missed her first. He couldn’t miss this one. If he did, it’d break her in ways
she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

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She cried until there were no more tears to shed and not once did he let her
go. Not once did he stop apologising. Sniffling, she stepped away from him,
feeling so drained. She used the back of her hands to clean the tear trails
away. Ibrahim looked as though he’d been stabbed and the knife had been
twisted in his chest. “Ayra –”
She busied herself with putting the camera and photo printer back into the
box and then covering the box. She covered the dress’s box too and put it
aside.
“Ayra, I’m sorry.”
The tears resurfaced and she did her best to keep them back while cursing
her hormones. She picked the cake and her nightdress and then headed in
the direction of the kitchen. Ibrahim followed her. “Ayra, please.”
She put the cake in the fridge and closed it before she faced him. “Promise
me.”
His brows furrowed. “What?”
“Promise me that you’ll be here by Eid. Promise me you won’t miss Eid
and you won’t miss my graduation.”
“Ayra –”
Her chest squeezed painfully. “Promise me!”
Ibrahim stared at her for a moment later and then he nodded. “I promise,
Ayra. I promise to be back in time for Eid and your graduation.”
She held onto his promise with both hands and choked over a sob, her
breakdown wrecking her body whole in a way it’d never done before. She
didn’t fight when he made the space between them disappear, pulling her –
yet again – into his embrace. He eventually carried her up and had a bath
with her before helping her get changed and then tucking her in bed, lying
beside her a near minute later once the lights were switched off.
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Sleep began pulling her under and she knew he’d either stay awake a little
longer to pray Fajr or nap a bit before prayer. Funny enough, under all she
felt, she felt guilty at the fact that they were supposed to be happily staying
awake together while snacking on the cake and talking about all that’d
happened in the time they’d been in different continents.
As she gave into the darkness, she murmured that she loved him and she
was sure she heard him say he loved her too.
♣

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Ayra’s birthday party was held in Tobi’s place; a six roomed duplexed villa
on the other end of Downtown Aomi. Although she was grateful, Ayra
didn’t enjoy the party.
Firstly, she didn’t know a lot of those who were invited to celebrate with
her. Secondly, Ibtihaj couldn’t make it as she was sporting malaria
symptoms so she’d gotten checked and was resting. Thirdly, the fact that
Ibrahim and the other members of the squad were leaving first thing the
next morning saddened like never before. It was hard to get excited with
that gloom hanging over her head despite the fact that Ibrahim stayed
beside her throughout, not letting go for any reason.
He left with Bella the next morning after Fajr and Ayra didn’t see them off
to the parking lot, breaking down in the privacy of her bathroom instead.
At exactly 8AM, the University of Atlantica released their results for the
completed session and unlike how happy she thought she’d be, Ayra felt
bittersweet as she stared at her and Ibtihaj’s names on the list of
postgraduate students graduating with honorary distinctions. The
graduation IV was released next, the event set for Saturday July 24th. Ayra
sent it to her parents and then sent it to Ibrahim, knowing he’d see it when
he landed in Prague.
A while later, when she’d pieced herself back together, she left The Oasis
with her signature smile and went all the way to Plum Boulevard to see her
parents who were excited over her results and the upcoming graduation.
She then headed to the Adeola home to visit Ibtihaj and sleepover because
she wanted to be there when the clock struck midnight, welcoming her best
friend to the age of twenty-one.
Ibtihaj, who was recovering nicely, saw through Ayra’s act easily and she
hid her anger well, grateful for the fact that she was a safe space for Ayra to
come to, no matter the day or time. She was always going to be grateful for
it so she took it upon herself to ensure Ayra felt better and it didn’t take
long. By Maghrib, Ayra was laughing beautifully and heartily and Ibtihaj was
glad her best friend was barely thinking of her “good for nothing husband”.
No one had to tell Ibtihaj she was going to have a word with Ibrahim
whether Ayra liked it or not. It was getting too much and she was really
tired of her best friend’s reality being way too different from the fantasies
she’d had. Sure, Ibtihaj always thought Ayra fantasied about Ibrahim too
much but then she’d never expected Ayra to actually end up with Ibrahim
and now that they’d ended up together, there were absolutely no reason for
Ayra’s happiness to be a roller coaster that kept going up and down. Ibtihaj
saw no reason, at all.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
222

On the morning of July 6th, The Gateways’ email was Ibtihaj’s first birthday
present as they provided her employment contract on what Ayra called a
golden platter. Ayra was over the moon and she screamed until Al-Amin
and Falilat rushed into the room. When they read the email, they joined
Ayra and once the disbelief wore off, Ibtihaj screamed the loudest.
They ended up calling Salama and Muhsin over and they all had breakfast in
the yard, Falilat bringing out two cakes instead of one because she and
Salama had felt bad for not being able to celebrate Ayra’s birthday with her.
Ibtihaj eyed her tearful friend. “If you cry here, it’s me and you.”
Ayra laughed and sniffled. “I won’t…Thank you so much, Aunt Falilat.
You too, Ummi.”
They told her it was fine. Like they always did since the first time they met,
Ayra and Ibtihaj held hands while their parents sang the birthday song for
them and then they made their wishes, blowing out the candles on both
cakes with their hands still held. Gifts came next and Ibtihaj screamed when
she unwrapped Ayra’s gift to her.
“Yé! Mogbe!”
Ayra smiled so beautifully. “You’re going to be working now and you need
something portable to carry around. I’ve always wanted to get one for you
and this year seemed like the best time so…Also, this model had a lot of
nice reviews.”
Ibtihaj, who felt everything from surprise to unlimited gratitude, teared up
as she traced the edge of the box in her hands; a box that held a black
convertible HP Elite Dragonfly G9 2–in–1 laptop. She sniffled and raised
her head. “Ayra…”
“You just told me not to cry. If you cry!”
Ibtihaj put the box on the table and hugged Ayra as though her life
depended on it. Laughing, Ayra hugged her too. Minutes later, Ayra was the
one gasping as she unwrapped the box that held Puro Sound Labs’
PuroQuiets headphones in black and blue; something they’d seen on
Instagram and she – Ayra – had mentioned that she liked.
Smiling, she looked at Ibtihaj who smiled right back. “You liked it. So it’s
only right that you got it.”
“I really love you, Ibty.”
“I love you too.”

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Falilat clapped her hands. “We’re still here o. Éjor, don’t be sharing love
without us.”
They all laughed about it and thank yous were given by the celebrants. They
then talked about the upcoming graduation; what they wanted as souvenirs,
what they wanted to wear, and how it was going to go. Ayra put it at the
back of her mind to send the invite to her in-laws too and she assured her
parents and Ibtihaj’s – although she sadly didn’t fully believe it herself – that
Ibrahim and the squad were going to be there.
Beside her, Ibtihaj had a small and sad smile on her face as she stared at the
box of her new laptop. She told herself that if Ibrahim didn’t show up,
there was nothing that was going to stop her from killing him, whether he
promised to make it up to Ayra or not.
After all, enough was enough.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
224

22
Ibrahim Fahad – and the other members of The Hexad squad – did not
make it back for Eid. What should have been a happy day for Ayra with all
the plans she’d been making since Eid-el-Fitr was spent in tears.
She only smiled when she got to Plum Boulevard in the evening to
celebrate with her family and Ibtihaj’s while ditching the Fahad’s Eid
dinner. No one in the Fahad family called to ask what was wrong and Ayra
ignored it although it hurt a lot. At some point, she ignored the texts from
the squad too because their apologies weren’t enough and she hated how
she couldn’t even hold on to Ibrahim’s promise that he’ll be there in time
for her graduation; just as he’d promised – and failed – to be home in time
for Eid.
Ibtihaj was livid and she made sure she let each member of the Hexad
squad know – via text because she couldn’t reach them over the phone –
just how mad and disappointed she was. She then told Ibrahim that if he
didn’t show up at their graduation and he broke Ayra even further, she was
never going to forgive him.
Salama knew something was wrong with Ayra but she couldn’t force it out
of her daughter so she let it go, allowing her husband – Muhsin – convince
her that Ayra would reach out when she was ready to.
On the 22nd of July, their graduation fits arrived. A second time, they’d
patronised Binta Badmus – Bintabadmuslady – and she didn’t disappoint;
once again using pink and white (ivory, to be precise) to make dresses for
both of them. This time, Ayra was to be in hot pink while Ibtihaj was to be
in ivory.
Both dresses, just as they’d asked, were the same just in different colours:
silk effortlessly sewn into elegant bodices with long sleeves that joined with
a maxi skirt that flowed down to an inch below their ankles so as to not
completely cover their shoes. The accompanying veils were cut out from
premium jersey fabric in both colours; hot pink and ivory. Glad that the
dresses fit, Ayra and Ibtihaj went shopping for accessories.
On their way back, Ibtihaj’s hand found Ayra’s and she gently squeezed.
“You good?”
Ayra managed to smile, nodding. “In Shaa Allah I will be.”
“Let’s forget about Ibrahim and the squad until after the graduation, okay?”
Ibtihaj squeezed her best friend’s hand again. “If you weren’t married to
him, you would still be graduating and you would be over the moon
because our efforts weren’t in vain. You had plans for this degree even

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before his proposal came so do not allow him and the squad take away the
happiness of hard work paying off. We’re graduating with honours, Ayra,
and we deserve to be happy. He doesn’t get to take that away from you. He
shouldn’t take that from you so don’t let him. Okay?”
With tears in her eyes, Ayra nodded. She engraved the words in her mind.
“Okay.”
“We’ll be fine, love. We’re going to be alright, I promise.”
On the 23rd, Ayra resent the graduation invite to her in-laws, reminding
them that the event was the very next day. After Jumm’ah, Salim called and
once they’d exchanged greetings, he let the bomb drop.
“Fareeda and I have to be in Cape Town tonight so we’ll have to rain check
tomorrow, sweetheart. It’s not something we can postpone and there’s no
way we’d make it back in time to even catch the end of the ceremony. I’m
sorry, love. Why don’t we have a dinner or lunch to celebrate when we get
back?”
Ayra, feeling weak underneath the heavy baggage of disappointments she’d
gotten the entire month, leaned against the nearest wall in the kitchen. She
used every ounce of power to push the tears back. “Sure,” She lied. “I’ll
look forward to it. Have a safe flight, Dad. Say hi to Mum for me.”
“I will. Congratulations. I’m proud of you.”
For the first time in her life, Ayra wanted to be rude to him but she pushed
it down, told him thank you, and then hung up. Ibrahim’s text came in
almost immediately.
Ibrahim: We’re getting ready to leave Sao Paulo. There’s a layover in
Paris and we haven’t gotten a quicker flight that’ll leave as soon as
we land at CDG but we’re working on it. We’ll take a private plane if
we need to, okay? What happened during Eid won’t happen this time,
we’ll make sure of it. I’ll be with you soon.
Unable to take anything more, Ayra switched off her phone. She prayed Asr
and sent a message to Ibithaj on Instagram through her tablet, stating that
she wanted to sleep until Maghrib so her phone was turned off. Ibtihaj
understood so she replied telling Ayra to rest well.
Ayra slept until Maghrib, woke up to pray, eat, and then pray Isha before
switching on her phone, putting it on DND and then returning to bed
where she immediately fell back into sleep. Fajr came quicker than she
expected it to and she prayed to Allah for strength to get through the day.
She then picked up her phone and the top messages were from Ibrahim.
Flights had been delayed from Paris because of bad weather but they were

LATIFAH EFUA A.
226

getting ready to leave. Knowing the flight took about six hours and it was
already almost 6AM, Ayra repeated Ibtihaj’s words in her head like a
mantra; she’d worked hard for the degree and she deserved to be happy
now that she was graduating. No one, including Ibrahim, had the right to
take it from her.
She got up, arranged the room, laid the bed, and then proceeded to have
her bath, taking extra time to pamper herself as it’d been ages since she did
so. Oiling her skin was easy and when it came to picking out the perfume
she wanted to use, her hand hovered above Tom Ford’s for a moment.
Reminding herself that the day was hers, she moved her hand to the left
and picked up the pink bottle of Chanel Chance; a fragrance she’d barely
used because of how much she loved scenting like Ibrahim and also Bella.
By 8:30, she was in a silk robe which covered her underwear. With her hair
in a loose ponytail, she headed down and opened the door for a grinning
Ibtihaj who’d come with her stuff. Ayra smiled back. “Someone’s very
excited.”
“And someone looks happy, thank God.” Ibtihaj hugged her and sniffed a
moment later. “You finally sprayed your own perfume.”
Ayra blushed a little. “Today is my day. Sorry, our day. And we should make
the most of it.”
Ibtihaj pulled back, smiling proudly. “Exactly! That’s the spirit. Oya, let’s go
and do our make-up. We don’t have time.” She followed Ayra who led the
way back up. “Mummy said if she gets to the arena before us, we’re dead.”
Ayra laughed. “They won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”
They got ready in her room and it was the first time in a very long while
that they didn’t speak about Ibrahim; as though they were living in another
dimension where he wasn’t a part of their lives. Instead, they spoke about
how the ceremony would go, who they looked forward to seeing, the outfits
they could look forward to, and then the awards. They spoke about food
too.
They kept their make-ups simple – simpler than it had been during their
bachelors graduation – and then they put their hair in sleek, low buns;
Ayra’s bun fuller and bugger than Ibtihaj’s as her hair was way longer. They
then put on their dresses, Ibtihaj doing so carefully so the ivory fabric didn’t
get stained. They tied each other’s waist sash and then they got started on
putting on every other thing; tying the jersey veils as layered turbans on
their head, putting drop down pearl earrings on their ears, wearing pearl
necklaces on their necks and chain bracelets on their wrists, and then

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adoring their feet with pointed toe high-heeled pumps; Ayra’s being white
while Ibtihaj’s was black. While Ayra spritzed a little perfume here and
there, Ibtihaj sprayed as though there was no tomorrow.
“My enemies must choke and die.” She said when Ayra coughed. “They
must choke and die. I made it, their father!”
Ayra could only laugh. When every necessity was put into the sling bags
they’d chosen to go with, they headed down and blessed the foyer mirror
with a lot of pictures. Once Falilat sent a threatening message to Ibtihaj,
both of them laughed and hurried out of the apartment. The underground
parking lot was brightly lit as always and Ayra’s resolve cracked as she
unlocked the doors to one of Ibrahim’s cars and slipped in. It scented like
him and moving the seat forward to accommodate the differences in their
height brought a lot of memories to her head; both of them in the car with
his hand in hers while he easily maneuvered down streets with his other
hand on the steering wheel.
Ibtihaj put on her seatbelt. “Oya o. Let them not do the procession without
us.”
Ayra snapped out of her head and rolled her eyes, smiling. “They wouldn’t
dare.”
By the time they got to the University of Atlantica, it was five minutes past
10AM and the parking lots were full. She had to cross-park and then they
were hurrying towards the administrative building to get their allocated
gowns and caps before rushing to join the others who’d begun forming
lines.
“Ayra!” It was one of their mates who sported a grin on her face. “We were
just talking about you.”
Ayra, who put one arm into the sleeve of the black academic gown,
curiously faced the other. “Really?” She put her other arm in the other
sleeve. “What about?”
Another mate replied. “We were wondering whether or not your husband
would be here. The whole school’s been talking about getting a chance to
have The Hexad Squad in the campus premises.” She leaned forward, her
eyes bright with unhidden curiosity and a little mischief. “They are coming,
right?”
Ayra could only stare at her mates, her cap held with both her hands. Her
chest slowly constricted and all the efforts she’d made to be happy seemed
to be crumbling to dust. Ibtihaj stepped in, smiling with faux sincerity. “If
he comes, that’s nice. If he doesn’t, that’s nice too. I mean, you know

LATIFAH EFUA A.
228

Ibrahim Fahad and the members of the squad are public figures and they’ve
been on the news lately so you should know that they’ve been busy. We
should focus on the ceremony going well rather than on whether or not
he’ll be here. He’s not the one graduating. Ayra is.”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt for a husband to show up for his wife.” One said. “I
even heard he didn’t even show up for her first graduation.”
Ayra held the cap tighter and forced a smile on her face. “Ibrahim was
unfortunately busy then and he’s unfortunately busy now. Like Ibty said, if
he shows up, then it’s going to be amazing. If he doesn’t, it’s alright too.
Missing one or two ceremonies doesn’t mean we’re going to miss out on
everything else.” Her words seemed to mock her. “The squad’s busy so…”
Not waiting for them to reply, she put on her cap and turned around. That
did not stop the whispers from reaching her ears.
“Do you think the rumours are true? People said their marriage is crazy. I
mean, Ibrahim works long hours and then he doesn’t show up for events
with her.”
“I think he’s just really, really busy as she said. Come on, we’ve seen
pictures of them having fun; she, him, and the other members of the squad.
I don’t think their marriage is anything crazy or shady. She knew what she
was getting herself into. He’s always been a workaholic after all.”
“I really looked forward to seeing him though.”
“Same here. I particularly looked forward to seeing him, Isabella Valentino,
and Anneth Samson.”
“Do you think Ayra’s going to go for PhD here? If she does, then he’ll
probably –”
Ibtihaj snapped. “Tori Olorun (Because of God), it’s okay!” The whispering
immediately ceased and she looked from one person to the other. “If you
want to know whether or not their marriage is crazy or shady, I can give
you the contact address of The Hexad so you can schedule a meeting with
Ibrahim and ask him yourself. I’m sure you’ll meet Bella and the others
there too.”
She hissed. “We’re about to be called in. Instead of you all to be ready to
throw your caps, you’re talking about what does not concern you. It’s okay.
If you must gossip, don’t do it here when Ayra and I are still with you
people. Ah an!”
Ayra grabbed her best friend’s hand. “Ibty, it’s okay. Just ignore them.”

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Ibtihaj eyed the others and hissed again. Only a few people spoke after that
and it wasn’t long before the graduates were ushered in. It was easy for
Ayra and Ibtihaj to return their parents’ smiles once they noticed them;
each one – especially Falilat – dressed to fit the grandeur of the occasion.
Once they found their seats, Ayra focused on breathing in and out. Minutes
later, the ceremony began.
Speeches were given and memory lanes were walked down as the university
celebrated one feat or the other. Bachelor degrees were then conferred and
Ayra cheered with a nostalgic smile on her face as she watched the new
graduates cheer with all their might. Individual awards were then presented
to the bachelors’ before the event moved to the postgraduates. Degrees
were conferred and they cheered. Individual awards were then presented.
“The University of Atlantica Award for Consecutive Academic Excellence
is hereby presented to a master’s degree holder in International
Communication; Ms Ibtihaj Oluwatosin Adeola.”
Ayra cheered with sincere happiness and pride. In the sea of guests, Falilat
was on her feet, cheering and telling anyone who cared to listen that Ibtihaj
was her daughter. Ibtihaj, clearly surprised as they’d not expected to receive
any award apart from the Chancellor’s Honorary Certificates, rose to her
feet and walked on stage. Ayra captured the moment with a very beautiful
smile on her face, dimples on full display.
“The University of Atlantica Award for Consecutive Academic Excellence,
once again, is hereby presented to another master’s degree holder in
International Communication.” The registrar, who was the event’s
officiator, smiled at the guests. “After all, they do say birds of the same
feather flocked together.”
Where they sat, Salama’s hand found Muhsin’s and they both squeezed at
the same time. On her seat, Ayra’s heart jumped to her throat while Ibtihaj
returned with a wild grin.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” The registrar continued. “This award is presented
to Ayra Leilani Abdulaziz.”
The cheer was loud, Ibtihaj ensuring she was the loudest. Following her –
Ibtihaj’s – lead, people rose to their feet, still applauding for Ayra who
made her way over to the stage where the Deputy Vice Chancellor – a
woman with a lovely smile – stood with the award.
Ayra, blinking back tears, hugged the older woman who laughed and
hugged her right back. Once they pulled back, the award was presented and
cameras flashed while the registrar presented a backstory to guests.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
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“Ayra Abdulaziz and Ibtihaj Adeola have appeared on the Chancellor’s
honour’s list every semester without fail since September, 2016. On the
transcripts of both women, the lowest grade you would find is a B and it is
scantily scattered in the ten semesters – including their just concluded
master’s programme – they have spent here in the U of A…We are proud
to present this award to them and should they ever decide to take up the
offer, the university has employment slots open to them no matter what.”
Ayra, with the crowd still cheering, returned to her seat and hugged Ibtihaj
who buzzed with so much energy. When they pulled apart, they turned to
their parents who still clapped; all of them with proud smiles and bright
faces. Ayra’s smile wavered as she remembered how she’d dreamt about
having Ibrahim sitting right beside her father, cheering for her as proudly as
they currently did alongside the other members of the squad.
It clicked in her head then that it was past six hours which meant he should
have landed, probably on his way to Aomi from Raven Isle. He wasn’t
going to make it in time, that much was clear, and it hurt even more than
him missing Eid did.
She kept a practiced smile on her face throughout the remainder of the
event and when it all ended, she threw her cap with the level of energy one
could find in a sick child. She kept smiling when Ibtihaj threw an arm
around her shoulder, both of them cheering with the others. She kept
smiling when she was squeezed into photos with those she knew and those
she didn’t. She kept smiling when she politely told those who asked that
Ibrahim couldn’t make it because something came up. She kept smiling
when they got to where their parents stood. She smiled throughout the
photo session with her parents, Ibtihaj, Falilat, and Al-Amin with a
photographer that was nicer than the one at their bachelors’ graduation. She
kept smiling when they headed out to the gardens and she recreated photos
with Ibtihaj before they joined their parents to attend to those who came
over to offer their congratulations.
Ayra smiled through it all and when Salama suggested they had an intimate
dinner at Kingstone, the same restaurant Ibrahim had been at with the
others on the night of the Bridgerton party, Ayra shook her head. “Let’s do
it tomorrow please. I’m really, really tired.”
Ibtihaj nodded in agreement. “Tomorrow’s better.”
Salama had never looked so worried. “Leilani, are you sure you’re alright?”
Ayra nodded, still smiling. “I will be, In Shaa Allah. Please don’t worry too
much, Ummi. I’ll be fine.”

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Thanks to Ibtihaj, they didn’t push it. They promised to meet the next day
and Ayra said goodbye to them, heading towards Ibrahim’s car which she’d
come with. They all watched her go and then Falilat sighed. “I hope she’s
alright o. This one that none of the Fahads showed up. They should not
hurt this girl, tori olorun. It won’t be funny o.”
Salama could only watch with a heavy heart as Ayra got into Ibrahim’s car
and drove off a near minute later. Beside her, Muhsin stood with his heart
heavy too. Ibtihaj stepped away and angrily sent a message to Ibrahim.
Ibtihaj: I told you I wasn’t going to forgive you if you missed this and
you did. Well done, Engineer Fahad. Well done.
Please leave my friend alone to go to sleep when she gets home. Do
not tell her how you’re going to make it up to her or any other sweet
nonsense that you’ll normally put in her head. Thank you, Ibrahim,
for making Ayra sad on such a happy day. Thank you for making my
family and hers worried too.
If I’d known this was how things were going to go, I would have
stopped her from marrying you. At least I wouldn’t watch her slowly
fade into someone I’m starting to not recognise. If you’re not going to
man up and stop making promises you can’t keep or spending so
much time at work while she stays home alone, then please let her go.
Her being divorced is going to be better than continuing on the road
she’s on, even though she may not see it now.
I really liked you, Ibrahim, because you made her happy. Thanks for
fucking it all up.
Twenty minutes later, Ayra was locking the doors of the vehicle. Her bag
hanging from her shoulder, her award in one hand and her bouquets in
another, she headed up. She blew out a breath when she got to the front
door of the apartment she loved from the moment she’d stepped in with
Ibtihaj the first time.
With another exhale, she moved her award to the arm with the bouquets
and scanned her fingerprint. The door unlocked and she pulled it open,
stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side. Ibrahim,
just like her, had stopped in his tracks, his arms halfway in the sleeves of a
white tuxedo jacket. On a normal day, she would have gushed over how
good he looked with his hair slicked back, a crisp black button down tucked
into black pant trousers, black shoes on his feet, and his jacket being the
only pop of colour. However, this wasn’t a normal day and he’d ruined it.
He’d ruined it all.
Too exhausted, Ayra stepped in and let the door shut behind her. She held
his gaze for a second longer, hated the emotions swirling in his eyes, and
then walked past him. Ibrahim turned around and went with her. “Ayra –”

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“I am honestly too tired to even talk to you, Ibrahim.” She stopped by the
steps and faced him. “I’m way too tired for even a mere conversation with
you so please, do us both a favour and let me be tonight.”
“Ayra, please. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”
A humourless laugh slipped past her lips. “I’d like to see you try, Ibrahim.
I’d really like to see you try.”
She turned around and ascended four steps before she stopped and looked
over her shoulder. “And you should stop promising me things. I can’t trust
you anymore and I’m not going to be stupid to fall for one more promise of
yours. You’ve done enough in this month alone, Ibrahim, and I’m just really
tired.”
“Ayra –”
Not wanting to hear anything else, she walked on and for the very first time
in her life when it came to him, she didn’t look back.

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23
Unlike what she’d thought, Ayra slept deeply and dreamlessly throughout
the night, exhaustion – mental and physical – seeping away from her body
with every hour that went by. She woke up just as the Adhan for Fajr went
off on her phone, wondereing how and why she’d missed the Tahajjud
alarm.
She laid on her side for a minute longer, staring at the wall, before she
sighed, pushed the duvet back and sat up, the Dua for waking up slipping
past her lips as a whisper. When she turned her head, a scream nearly tore
out of her throat.
Still in the pant trousers he’d worn when she came back from the
graduation and a white vest, Ibrahim sat on her cactus shaped sofa, his
hands together and his head hung low. His curls were messy, as though he’d
run his hands through them all night, and Ayra hoped – which was very
ironic seeing that she was still supposed to be mad at him – that he’d
actually slept.
“Ibrahim?”
He raised his head, dark circles prominent underneath his eyes and
exhaustion as clear as day on every part of him. “You’re awake.”
She moved her legs from the bed to the cool floor, a small frown on her
face. “What are you doing here?”
“I just…” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t stay in
my room. I couldn’t sleep or do anything while knowing you’re so mad at
me and so disappointed that you couldn’t even scream or yell at me
yesterday so I came here…I knew you’d be asleep and I knew you wouldn’t
want to talk and I didn’t plan on waking you up. I just…”
He blew out another breath and ran a hand through his hair, letting her
know he’d actually run his hand through the curls she loved all night long.
“I just couldn’t be away so I came in and I made sure to not disturb you.”
“You sat there all night.”
“I did. It’s the least I could, Ayra. I’m so, so sorry. I know I’ll be sorry for a
long, long time and I don’t mind, Ayra. I’m really sorry and I’m going to
make it up to you for as long as I can.”
In that moment, Ayra wondered if it was normal to still be mad and
disappointed yet feel so guilty that her not talking to him kept him up all
night when he’d been crossing continents just to meet up with her
graduation. She hated that he made promises he didn’t keep, that was set in

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stone. She also hated that she didn’t enjoy a day she’d looked forward to
because he didn’t show up in time for it all, leaving her drained. She hated
those…Yet, her heart ached at the fact that he didn’t sleep while she did;
that he sat there all night simply because she didn’t yell at him the way
someone who was stood up more than once would.
Her emotions battling against each other – courtesy of her heart and brain
being at war yet again – were confusing and she wasn’t sure she was ready
to unravel it all. She also wondered if it was how her parents felt each time
they fought and Salama would come down to get Muhsin who’d been
sleeping on the couch. Those times she – Ayra – knew her mother was still
mad at her father, yet she’d taken care of him as she was concerned for his
well-being.
It was confusing and it was too early to deal with all of it. So, Ayra looked
away from Ibrahim and pushed herself up to her feet, her voice low when
she said “It’s time for Fajr, Ibrahim.”
“Leilani –”
That was her undoing but she fought against it because she knew she
couldn’t melt into him although her heart wanted to. She couldn’t melt into
him that easily. “Let’s pray first, Ibrahim. Everything else can come after
Fajr.”
She didn’t look his way but his sigh reached her ears. A moment later, he
was on his feet. “I’ll wait for you in the family lounge.” He then stepped
forward and kissed her hair, his hand brushing her back which made her
treacherous heart want to burst into tears because she’d missed his little
touches. “I’m really sorry, Ayra. You have no idea just how sorry I am.”
And then he was gone. She shed a few tears as she made wudhoo but
pulled herself back together before leaving the bathroom. She then put on
her hijab and left the room, joining him in the family lounge. Prayer was
peaceful but a little sad for her as it’d been a while for her to pray behind
him and normally, when they – he and the squad – returned from trips, they
usually prayed in his room or if he was being clingy, they prayed in hers.
Once they finished supplicating, none of them moved and she knew they’d
need to have the conversation then and there. It was necessary. When he
turned on his mat so he could sit facing her, she blurted out the first thing
that came to mind. “Why?”
Ibrahim looked as though he’d been stabbed over and over. “Ayra –”
“Why did you promise to be here when you knew you wouldn’t make it?”

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“I was going to try my best, I swear it. I planned on freeing my schedule for
Eid and your graduation and I did try but –”
“But you couldn’t.” Her chest was back to squeezing painfully. “You kept
promising.”
“And I swear to you, I kept trying. You can ask every single person, Ayra, I
kept trying.”
“You didn’t try hard enough.” Her voice broke as the tears surfaced, the
pain fresh. “You didn’t really try hard enough, Ibrahim, because if you did,
you would have been here. You should have been here. You promised.”
“And I’m very, very sorry.”
She hurriedly wiped away the tear that slipped. “Do you even know how
Eid went for me? I stayed in this very spot, praying and holding on to the
last shreds of hope that you’d walk in, no matter how late. I went to the Eid
ground alone. I came back and watched them sacrifice the ram alone. I had
to put the catering team in charge of the meat distribution because I
couldn’t do it. I cried a lot, Ibrahim, all because you couldn’t make it. All
because you made a promise and broke it.”
His eyes were glassy with tears. “Ayra –”
“I don’t even understand why you kept booking your flights so late. Your
Eid flight was to leave mere hours before midnight and you were to land
after the Eid prayer or so but it was cancelled and you couldn’t get another
flight so you had to fall back into the schedule because there were meetings
that couldn’t be moved.”
A tear slid down his cheek. “Ayra…”
“And then my graduation. Why didn’t you leave earlier? Why? Just why,
Ibrahim?” She finally began to cry. “Why?”
He moved closer, pulling her to him. “I’m so sorry, Ayra. I’m really sorry.”
“You can’t make promises and break them. You shouldn’t make promises
and break them because of work.” She cried against his chest. “I know
work is important you but so am I. I’m your wife, Ibrahim, and I wouldn’t
bat a lid before doing everything to be there with you – physically or
virtually – on your big days so all I want from you is to do the same.” She
cried harder. “That’s all I’m asking from you.”
He hugged her tighter, crying too. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ibty’s really, really mad at you. My parents are worried but I keep telling
them I’m fine so you really need to stop letting me down, Ibrahim. I can’t

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be fine if you keep doing this. I can’t be fine if you keep making promises I
can’t trust. I can’t –” She choked over a sob. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“I won’t do it anymore, Ayra, I promise.” He softly kissed her head. “I
know you can’t trust my promises anymore but I’m going to make it up to
you and I’m going to do everything possible to build that trust back. I’m
not going to let you down again, I promise. I’m already working on it and
I’m going to tell you everything. I’m so sorry, Ayra. I’m really sorry,
sweetheart.”
They cried until there were no more tears to shed but they didn’t let go.
Much, much calmer, Ibrahim began rubbing soothing circles on Ayra’s back
while she leaned against him, listening to the familiar beat of his heart.
Outside, the sun was rising over Aomi and the other parts of the country.
“I have a gift for you.” He said quietly. “It’s for both of us actually and I
was doing everything possible to beat time and circumstances so I could
give it to you while you were still in the celebratory mood of the graduation
ceremony.”
Ayra said nothing. She simply listened and he continued. “It’s a trip to
Santorini, Greece. It’s a weeklong vacation at the Katikies Hotel and I
wanted it to be a sort of mini-honeymoon. I’m sorry I ruined yesterday
before I could even give it to you…I’m still going to take you there and I
hope you agree, sweetheart.”
“You can’t do things wrong and then spend lavishly, Ibrahim.” There was a