part of our conversations these days and there’s so much revolving around
Too Little Too Late Complete Hausa Novel · about 11 min read
her. It got to me more than it ever did and it took away every sense of
rationality. I’m sorry.”
His chest squeezed again. “You need to trust me, Bella.”
“I do. I’m sorry, okay? I got insecure.”
“There’s nothing to be insecure about.” He said, feeling like a hypocrite as
little insecurities popped up regarding where both of them stood on his end
in that moment. “You’re the woman I love. Ayra’s just the woman I
married.” It felt like he’d been stabbed and the knife had been turned in the
wound. “I’ve had to live with her for this long so the disruption in my
balance affected me more than it should have.”
Her smile was small. “I’ll drill that in my head. I’m sorry, Serkan.”
He blew out a small breath, wanting the pressure in his chest to ease out. It
didn’t. “I’m sorry too. We should communicate better next time.”
Her smile widened, her eyes bright. “We should.” She leaned in. “I love
you.”
His chest squeezed so tightly, it hurt. “I love you too.”
She kissed him softly and naturally, he kissed her back while being unable to
find it in him to be happy that they were okay. The kiss broke when she
pulled back and he opened his eyes, his heart dropping to the very bottom
of a pit when for a split second, all he saw was Ayra’s teary face when he’d
kissed her in the Adeola’s home.
Immediately he blinked the vision cleared and all he saw was Bella once
again. She was smiling at him and he smiled back, knowing fully well he
hadn’t heard whatever it is she’d said if she’d spoken at all. She wrapped her
arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck and it should
have felt as rightly as it always did but it didn’t and it only made his heart
drop further.
Their signature scent reached his nose but he couldn’t even revel in it; not
when he remembered the fruity and floral combination Ayra had scented
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like on Saturday evening. Trying his best to breathe, he wrapped his arms
around Bella and held her tightly, feeling colder than what was normal.
Bella made herself even more comfortable against him, a blissful sigh
slipping past her lips as she asked “What did you paint anyways?”
Ibrahim told himself to keep breathing. “Nothing important.” The lie of the
century. “I got rid of it.”
She pulled back, surprised. “You got rid of a painting that took you more
than a day?”
He smiled and prayed to God that it came out sincere. “It wasn’t what I
wanted and you know how I am with my paintings.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to the comfortable position. “I know all
too well. You should make us a painting soon. It’s been a while.”
He nodded. “Sure. I’ll get started on one soon.”
“I love you, Serkan.”
“I love you too.”
And he’d never tell her or anyone else that the painting of Ayra had been
moved from the studio to a new space he’d purchased; a space only he
would have access to. A space they were never to find out about.
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35
On Friday, Ibrahim left the office at 7:45PM.
With Ayra at Ibtihaj’s place all week, he’d been working late; just so he
could put his mind into something and not think about her. During breaks
and while trying to fall asleep, he ended up doing just that; even when he
stayed two nights in a row with Bella.
He parked the Telluride in its usual spot in the underground parking lot of
The Oasis. A glance at the passenger seat had him recalling how Ayra had
sat there the previous weekend, staring out of the window at the places
they’d driven past.
The ache in his chest, which he’d been carrying around all week, returned.
Unable to push down the urge for much longer, he grabbed his phone and
unlocked it. He stared at her contact for a moment before he hit the dial
button, bringing the phone to his ear while his heart decided it was time to
race as the line rang. Just when he thought it’d go unanswered, Ayra picked
up.
“Ibrahim.”
His chest squeezed tightly and Ibrahim found himself swallowing, as
nervous as a schoolboy with a crush; a way he hadn’t felt in such a long
time. It hit him then that he’d missed her even more than he knew. He’d
missed her a lot. “Ayra.”
“You know, when we were in Santorini, you said you and the others would
no longer be closing late. It’s funny how it’s past 8 and you’re not home.”
“I just got home and –” His heart screeched when her words made sense.
Barely breathing, he opened the car door. “Ayra, are you home?”
She laughed and it was so soft that it hurt. She hadn’t laughed like that in
what felt like forever and Ibrahim told himself he’d cry if she told him she
was still at Ibtihaj’s place although there was no way she’d know he wasn’t
home if she wasn’t in it.
“Yes, Ibrahim.” She said beautifully. “I’m home.”
It took him less than half a minute to leave the car and lock it. It took him a
minute and a few seconds to run to the lobby and when the elevator took
its time coming down, Ibrahim made the decision to use the stairs, not
caring how long it took to get up to their floor; no matter how long it took
to get home to her.
By the time he got to the tenth floor, his breaths were laboured but he
didn’t care. With a hand that trembled, he entered the passcode and then
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pushed the door open. His world came to a beautiful stop and the first
thing that hit him was the scent of her; a fruity and floral combination.
Then there was Ayra; an embodiment of the painting he’d made and hidden
from the world, including himself.
She wore the dress he’d gotten her for her birthday back in July and her red
highlights were a little darker than they used to be but still evident, a
contrast against her dark curls. Her hair fell past her exposed shoulders and
while she had no make-up on, she was beautiful. So, so beautiful. Dimples
he’d missed appeared on her cheeks when she smiled and her familiar blush
made an appearance, adding more magic to the already beautiful scene.
Her eyes twinkled in a way he’d never seen before. “Don’t tell me you ran
up here, Ibrahim.” Mischief wrote itself clearly on her face as she leaned
forward, her smile widening by the tiniest inch. “You missed me that
much?”
Feeling the overwhelming urge to cry, Ibrahim grabbed her hand, pulled her
close, and brought his lips down on hers. A moment passed before she
kissed him back and Ibrahim pulled her even closer, feeling as though he
could finally breathe; as though he’d been underwater throughout the week.
Her arms moved to his neck, her fingers weaving into his hair and he
sincerely loved it; all of it. He kissed her with a mix of emotions he couldn’t
explain; feeling anything and everything all at once and revelling in the way
she kissed him.
The need for air had them pulling apart and Ibrahim only properly looked
at her once he’d caught his breath. She kept her gaze lowered for a few
more seconds before she brought her eyes to his, a smile returning to her
lips. “Hi, Ibrahim.”
He brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb moving in a
soft caress. “Hi…You’re home.”
“I am.” She then made a face. “You waited a whole week before calling?
Wow, Ibrahim.”
His chest squeezed again and he nearly told her that he’d opened their chat
windows time and time again, typing out so many messages that he never
sent because he couldn’t bring himself to; not when he wasn’t used to being
the one who often texted first between them.
He wanted to tell her of the times he’d driven to Haven Estate just so he
could try to get a glimpse of her while being scared to death to walk up to
the Adeola’s front porch to ring the bell. He wanted to tell her about how
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355
many times he’d clicked on her contact, wanting to call but being unable to
do so until that very night.
He wanted to tell her all of it but the words wouldn’t come together so he
went with the first thing that came to mind. “Ibty said I shouldn’t call
unless it was extremely important.” He felt awful; as though he was the
world’s greatest liar. “And I had to respect the time you two had. After all,
you two hadn’t seen each other in a while.”
“So you didn’t miss me? Is that what you’re trying to say, Ibrahim?”
She’d raised her brow and it was beautiful on her; way too beautiful for him
to handle. His chest squeezed gently and the truth slipped past his lips. “I
missed you…I missed you more than I even know, Ayra.”
There were emotions that crossed her face at his admission but the only
one he recognised was surprise; as though she had not expected him to say
he missed her. The realisation that he’d only said the words “I miss you” a
few times to her in the near year they’d been married was a stab in his chest.
If there was hole he’d dug for moments when he felt like the worst person,
he wanted nothing more than to crawl into that hole in that very moment.
Her smile was small and a little sad; a combination that made him feel way
worse. “I haven’t heard that from you in a while, Ibrahim. Usually I’m the
one who says I miss you first and then you say you missed me too.” Her
smile brightened a little. “Good to see you taking new steps, Engineer
Fahad.”
He tried to smile but he failed. “I’m sorry.” He really was. “I’ll say it more
often from now on.”
Her mood changed, brightening up completely. She stepped away from
him, taking his hand in hers and leading him in. “It’s alright! I wanted to
make dinner but I was so tired so I ordered in and set the table.”
The living room was brighter than it had been in the entire week and it
scented so much like her; it scented so much like home. Her things were
there too; a veil on an armrest, her phone on a coffee table, and a half-
finished bottle of orange juice by the remote on the other coffee table. Such
placements weren’t new to him – she’d done even more in the year they’d
spent together – but in that moment it felt new, as though he was starting
to live with her for the first time and everything she did amazed him and
also made him feel really awful.
She led him to the kitchen and Ibrahim had to force himself to look away
from her dazzling smile to the table she’d set. She’d gotten them a full
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course meal from a Korean restaurant and everything was laid out well in
the dishes they owned rather than the take out packs.
“I thought it’d be better if we ate from our dishes and not from the take out
packs.” She told him, a little shyly. “Is that okay?”
He nodded, finally able to smile. “It is.” He couldn’t bring himself to ask
for anything more. “It really is.”
“Great! Have you prayed Isha?”
He shook his head, knowing fully well his prayers were scanty like they
always were once she wasn’t home. “Nope. I need to pray Maghrib though.
I couldn’t do so at the office.”
“Alright then. I’ll wait for you to pray Maghrib and then we’ll pray Isha
together.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She didn’t stop smiling. “Okay.”
None of them moved and it was obvious she was holding back her laugh
which made him smile a little wider. Giving into the temptation, he stepped
forward and kissed her hair. “Thank you for coming home tonight, Ayra.”
“If I hadn’t come home tonight though?”
“I would have come to pick you and Ibty up tomorrow. We’re having
dinner with Serkan, Bella, and Serkan’s best friend, Aliana. Anneth beat me
to sending you the memo. Did you get it?”
She nodded, grinning. “I did! I’m so excited, Ibrahim. I wanted us to pray
first before asking if Serkan’s here yet.”
He shook his head, back to feeling like the world’s worst person. “I don’t
think he is. Anneth and Bella went to await their arrival in Raven Isle. When
they arrive, they’ll probably let us know.”
“Sweet! I can’t wait to meet him properly.”
His chest squeezed but he told himself to keep smiling. “I’m sure he can’t
wait to meet you properly too.” He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go and
pray.”
He led the way and she followed. Staring straight ahead and finding a
beautiful feeling of intimacy with her hand in his, Ibrahim had no idea that
Ayra had stopped smiling and that she stared at their hands with a little
numbness and a little pain. She knew that in that moment, he was the man
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she’d always wanted, but like Ibtihaj had said, his emotions were coming
out when it was way too late.
Also, she – Ayra – could no longer trust him, no matter how badly a little
rationality. I’m sorry.”
His chest squeezed again. “You need to trust me, Bella.”
“I do. I’m sorry, okay? I got insecure.”
“There’s nothing to be insecure about.” He said, feeling like a hypocrite as
little insecurities popped up regarding where both of them stood on his end
in that moment. “You’re the woman I love. Ayra’s just the woman I
married.” It felt like he’d been stabbed and the knife had been turned in the
wound. “I’ve had to live with her for this long so the disruption in my
balance affected me more than it should have.”
Her smile was small. “I’ll drill that in my head. I’m sorry, Serkan.”
He blew out a small breath, wanting the pressure in his chest to ease out. It
didn’t. “I’m sorry too. We should communicate better next time.”
Her smile widened, her eyes bright. “We should.” She leaned in. “I love
you.”
His chest squeezed so tightly, it hurt. “I love you too.”
She kissed him softly and naturally, he kissed her back while being unable to
find it in him to be happy that they were okay. The kiss broke when she
pulled back and he opened his eyes, his heart dropping to the very bottom
of a pit when for a split second, all he saw was Ayra’s teary face when he’d
kissed her in the Adeola’s home.
Immediately he blinked the vision cleared and all he saw was Bella once
again. She was smiling at him and he smiled back, knowing fully well he
hadn’t heard whatever it is she’d said if she’d spoken at all. She wrapped her
arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck and it should
have felt as rightly as it always did but it didn’t and it only made his heart
drop further.
Their signature scent reached his nose but he couldn’t even revel in it; not
when he remembered the fruity and floral combination Ayra had scented
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like on Saturday evening. Trying his best to breathe, he wrapped his arms
around Bella and held her tightly, feeling colder than what was normal.
Bella made herself even more comfortable against him, a blissful sigh
slipping past her lips as she asked “What did you paint anyways?”
Ibrahim told himself to keep breathing. “Nothing important.” The lie of the
century. “I got rid of it.”
She pulled back, surprised. “You got rid of a painting that took you more
than a day?”
He smiled and prayed to God that it came out sincere. “It wasn’t what I
wanted and you know how I am with my paintings.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to the comfortable position. “I know all
too well. You should make us a painting soon. It’s been a while.”
He nodded. “Sure. I’ll get started on one soon.”
“I love you, Serkan.”
“I love you too.”
And he’d never tell her or anyone else that the painting of Ayra had been
moved from the studio to a new space he’d purchased; a space only he
would have access to. A space they were never to find out about.
TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
353
35
On Friday, Ibrahim left the office at 7:45PM.
With Ayra at Ibtihaj’s place all week, he’d been working late; just so he
could put his mind into something and not think about her. During breaks
and while trying to fall asleep, he ended up doing just that; even when he
stayed two nights in a row with Bella.
He parked the Telluride in its usual spot in the underground parking lot of
The Oasis. A glance at the passenger seat had him recalling how Ayra had
sat there the previous weekend, staring out of the window at the places
they’d driven past.
The ache in his chest, which he’d been carrying around all week, returned.
Unable to push down the urge for much longer, he grabbed his phone and
unlocked it. He stared at her contact for a moment before he hit the dial
button, bringing the phone to his ear while his heart decided it was time to
race as the line rang. Just when he thought it’d go unanswered, Ayra picked
up.
“Ibrahim.”
His chest squeezed tightly and Ibrahim found himself swallowing, as
nervous as a schoolboy with a crush; a way he hadn’t felt in such a long
time. It hit him then that he’d missed her even more than he knew. He’d
missed her a lot. “Ayra.”
“You know, when we were in Santorini, you said you and the others would
no longer be closing late. It’s funny how it’s past 8 and you’re not home.”
“I just got home and –” His heart screeched when her words made sense.
Barely breathing, he opened the car door. “Ayra, are you home?”
She laughed and it was so soft that it hurt. She hadn’t laughed like that in
what felt like forever and Ibrahim told himself he’d cry if she told him she
was still at Ibtihaj’s place although there was no way she’d know he wasn’t
home if she wasn’t in it.
“Yes, Ibrahim.” She said beautifully. “I’m home.”
It took him less than half a minute to leave the car and lock it. It took him a
minute and a few seconds to run to the lobby and when the elevator took
its time coming down, Ibrahim made the decision to use the stairs, not
caring how long it took to get up to their floor; no matter how long it took
to get home to her.
By the time he got to the tenth floor, his breaths were laboured but he
didn’t care. With a hand that trembled, he entered the passcode and then
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pushed the door open. His world came to a beautiful stop and the first
thing that hit him was the scent of her; a fruity and floral combination.
Then there was Ayra; an embodiment of the painting he’d made and hidden
from the world, including himself.
She wore the dress he’d gotten her for her birthday back in July and her red
highlights were a little darker than they used to be but still evident, a
contrast against her dark curls. Her hair fell past her exposed shoulders and
while she had no make-up on, she was beautiful. So, so beautiful. Dimples
he’d missed appeared on her cheeks when she smiled and her familiar blush
made an appearance, adding more magic to the already beautiful scene.
Her eyes twinkled in a way he’d never seen before. “Don’t tell me you ran
up here, Ibrahim.” Mischief wrote itself clearly on her face as she leaned
forward, her smile widening by the tiniest inch. “You missed me that
much?”
Feeling the overwhelming urge to cry, Ibrahim grabbed her hand, pulled her
close, and brought his lips down on hers. A moment passed before she
kissed him back and Ibrahim pulled her even closer, feeling as though he
could finally breathe; as though he’d been underwater throughout the week.
Her arms moved to his neck, her fingers weaving into his hair and he
sincerely loved it; all of it. He kissed her with a mix of emotions he couldn’t
explain; feeling anything and everything all at once and revelling in the way
she kissed him.
The need for air had them pulling apart and Ibrahim only properly looked
at her once he’d caught his breath. She kept her gaze lowered for a few
more seconds before she brought her eyes to his, a smile returning to her
lips. “Hi, Ibrahim.”
He brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb moving in a
soft caress. “Hi…You’re home.”
“I am.” She then made a face. “You waited a whole week before calling?
Wow, Ibrahim.”
His chest squeezed again and he nearly told her that he’d opened their chat
windows time and time again, typing out so many messages that he never
sent because he couldn’t bring himself to; not when he wasn’t used to being
the one who often texted first between them.
He wanted to tell her of the times he’d driven to Haven Estate just so he
could try to get a glimpse of her while being scared to death to walk up to
the Adeola’s front porch to ring the bell. He wanted to tell her about how
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355
many times he’d clicked on her contact, wanting to call but being unable to
do so until that very night.
He wanted to tell her all of it but the words wouldn’t come together so he
went with the first thing that came to mind. “Ibty said I shouldn’t call
unless it was extremely important.” He felt awful; as though he was the
world’s greatest liar. “And I had to respect the time you two had. After all,
you two hadn’t seen each other in a while.”
“So you didn’t miss me? Is that what you’re trying to say, Ibrahim?”
She’d raised her brow and it was beautiful on her; way too beautiful for him
to handle. His chest squeezed gently and the truth slipped past his lips. “I
missed you…I missed you more than I even know, Ayra.”
There were emotions that crossed her face at his admission but the only
one he recognised was surprise; as though she had not expected him to say
he missed her. The realisation that he’d only said the words “I miss you” a
few times to her in the near year they’d been married was a stab in his chest.
If there was hole he’d dug for moments when he felt like the worst person,
he wanted nothing more than to crawl into that hole in that very moment.
Her smile was small and a little sad; a combination that made him feel way
worse. “I haven’t heard that from you in a while, Ibrahim. Usually I’m the
one who says I miss you first and then you say you missed me too.” Her
smile brightened a little. “Good to see you taking new steps, Engineer
Fahad.”
He tried to smile but he failed. “I’m sorry.” He really was. “I’ll say it more
often from now on.”
Her mood changed, brightening up completely. She stepped away from
him, taking his hand in hers and leading him in. “It’s alright! I wanted to
make dinner but I was so tired so I ordered in and set the table.”
The living room was brighter than it had been in the entire week and it
scented so much like her; it scented so much like home. Her things were
there too; a veil on an armrest, her phone on a coffee table, and a half-
finished bottle of orange juice by the remote on the other coffee table. Such
placements weren’t new to him – she’d done even more in the year they’d
spent together – but in that moment it felt new, as though he was starting
to live with her for the first time and everything she did amazed him and
also made him feel really awful.
She led him to the kitchen and Ibrahim had to force himself to look away
from her dazzling smile to the table she’d set. She’d gotten them a full
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course meal from a Korean restaurant and everything was laid out well in
the dishes they owned rather than the take out packs.
“I thought it’d be better if we ate from our dishes and not from the take out
packs.” She told him, a little shyly. “Is that okay?”
He nodded, finally able to smile. “It is.” He couldn’t bring himself to ask
for anything more. “It really is.”
“Great! Have you prayed Isha?”
He shook his head, knowing fully well his prayers were scanty like they
always were once she wasn’t home. “Nope. I need to pray Maghrib though.
I couldn’t do so at the office.”
“Alright then. I’ll wait for you to pray Maghrib and then we’ll pray Isha
together.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She didn’t stop smiling. “Okay.”
None of them moved and it was obvious she was holding back her laugh
which made him smile a little wider. Giving into the temptation, he stepped
forward and kissed her hair. “Thank you for coming home tonight, Ayra.”
“If I hadn’t come home tonight though?”
“I would have come to pick you and Ibty up tomorrow. We’re having
dinner with Serkan, Bella, and Serkan’s best friend, Aliana. Anneth beat me
to sending you the memo. Did you get it?”
She nodded, grinning. “I did! I’m so excited, Ibrahim. I wanted us to pray
first before asking if Serkan’s here yet.”
He shook his head, back to feeling like the world’s worst person. “I don’t
think he is. Anneth and Bella went to await their arrival in Raven Isle. When
they arrive, they’ll probably let us know.”
“Sweet! I can’t wait to meet him properly.”
His chest squeezed but he told himself to keep smiling. “I’m sure he can’t
wait to meet you properly too.” He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go and
pray.”
He led the way and she followed. Staring straight ahead and finding a
beautiful feeling of intimacy with her hand in his, Ibrahim had no idea that
Ayra had stopped smiling and that she stared at their hands with a little
numbness and a little pain. She knew that in that moment, he was the man
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she’d always wanted, but like Ibtihaj had said, his emotions were coming
out when it was way too late.
Also, she – Ayra – could no longer trust him, no matter how badly a little