part of her who was yet to get the memo that she was no longer supposed
Too Little Too Late Complete Hausa Novel · about 21 min read
to love him let out a little sound of pain.
You’re seeing me too late, Ibrahim, she wanted to say. You should have looked at me
this way a long time ago.
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He stepped forward and took her free hand in his, lacing her fingers. He
stared at their hands for a moment, as though he’d never seen anything
more beautiful, before bringing his eyes to hers; giving her a glimpse of his
pain and anguish before he brought his walls up. His smile returned, a little
wider than it had been. “This is a new dress, right?”
She nodded, keeping her act going. “It is. You should be paying more
attention to your bank statements, Ibrahim Fahad, because this was covered
with your card.”
His smile stretched and his expression brightened sincerely. “I wouldn’t
have had it any other way.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, right above
her dimple. “It was worth every penny, that I can assure you.”
Her chest felt like it’d been scratched for what should have been the
billionth time. “Thank you.”
He straightened. “You’re welcome.”
Her dress was black; a high-necked satin A-line dress with a wide sash that
accentuated her slender waist and bishop sleeves that covered the length of
both her arms. Like his mother, her turban was simple but her hair was
entirely covered. Her earrings, as was becoming regular with her, were
simple silver studs and they matched her black and silver clutch which held
her phone and cards. Although the dress covered her heels, she had no
doubt he knew she wore them as she was definitely taller.
The sound of approaching footsteps forced them to break eye contact and
they both turned to see Ibtihaj walking over, disbelief written clearly on her
face. Just like her mother, Ibtihaj clapped her hands dramatically and
stopped in front of them.
“I was outside there standing like mumu and you people are here sharing
love. Hian!” She glared at Ibrahim, in a way that came with practiced ease
that Ayra saw through. “You! Oga, are you not supposed to be in the
gardens? We’re supposed to meet you there.”
Ayra watched her husband offer her best friend yet another small smile.
“Mum asked me to drop something for her. I was just coming back down
when I ran into Ayra.” He turned to her and his smile widened. “Perfect
timing, I must say.”
Ayra knew Ibtihaj wanted to smack Ibrahim’s head so she suggested “Why
don’t we head out to the garden?”
Ibrahim agreed but with reluctance that Ayra didn’t miss. He held her hand
the entire walk while Ibtihaj stayed on her other side, engaging Ayra in
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small talk. The sight of the decorated rear gardens had Ayra stopping in her
tracks briefly to appreciate it all.
She had to give it to the event planner – whoever it was. The event’s layout
was breath-taking and it brought a sad smile to her face as she reached the
realisation that she’d never again be excited for another Fahad event.
When Ibrahim led her forward, she let him. He led her and Ibtihaj down
the stairs and they got sucked into the crowd of faces and names Ayra knew
and those she didn’t. There were polite greetings and little talks and not
once did Ibrahim let go of Ayra’s hand. She was ironically glad as his and
Ibtihaj’s presence was a sort of anchor she could hang onto as she clearly
saw the way she was looked at and judged; how gazes scrutinized her from
head to toe; how some few gazes first moved to her stomach, as though
they expected to see a bump and then relieved that there was none.
Ayra told herself to ignore it all but it was easier said than done. Before
long, they joined the squad and she put her smile back on, the same way
five of them did; all of them acting like they always did. Bella put away her
glass of champagne. “Ibty and Ayra, you two look stunning.”
Ibtihaj, who wore a similar dress to Ayra’s but in the wine purple shade,
mimicked a hair flip. “We have to impress so…You sha, you’re stealing the
show tonight. You’re prettier than everyone else here.”
Ayra saw it although it was subtle; the arrogant shift in Bella’s composure
and the way she – Bella – stood a little taller, feeling validated. Ayra wanted
to laugh but she knew better than to do so. She echoed Ibtihaj’s words and
then went on to compliment Anneth, Nathaniel, Jalal, and Tobi. They
returned her complements and she forced herself to blush, as though she
still wasn’t used to complements. A moment passed before she re-focused
on Bella.
“About what happened on Saturday night, Bella, I’m sorry.” She kept her
pitch perfect; soft and apologetic. “I’ve wanted to reach out all week but I
didn’t feel so courageous. It wasn’t my intention to make you
uncomfortable or anything.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Bella told her. “We’re fine now so it’s no big deal. Also, I
should have told you that Serkan calls me Sevgilim so it’s kinda my fault too.
It’s fine, Ayra. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“Are you sure?”
Bella nodded. “I am.” She turned to the others. “Right, guys?”
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They all gave affirmative replies before turning to Ibrahim who, just like the
previous Saturday night, was quiet. No one said anything, the silence a little
awkward. Thankfully, Salim and Fareeda walked over and Ayra didn’t miss
the way Salim hid his coldness behind a smile he directed her way and
Ibtihaj’s.
“Well, well, well.” He said, his smile widening. “If it isn’t Ibrahim, Ayra,
Ibty, and the Hexad squad.”
Ibrahim’s hold on Ayra’s hand tightened a little. “Dad.”
Salim patted his son’s shoulder. “Hello, Ibrahim. We should have a
discussion before we leave.”
Ibrahim held onto Ayra’s hand a little tighter. “It better not be about
politics.”
Salim laughed, his hand dropping to his side. “I dare not.” He turned to his
daughter-in-law and her best friend. “Ayra and Ibty. Do allow Fareeda and
I congratulate you on your master’s graduation. It is way late, we know that,
and we apologise. We hope you can forgive us.”
Ayra’s smile was radiant. “We didn’t hold anything against you in the first
place, Dad.”
Ibtihaj nodded, smiling too. “Exactly.”
“I hope you had a nice time at Cape Town?” Ayra asked. “You two stayed
there for a while.”
Fareeda nodded with a smile of her own. “We had a splendid time. There
was no rush to return so we soaked it all in. Cape Town would always be a
favourite place for us. Maybe when next we’re going, you can come along.
Ibrahim too.”
There won’t be a next time, Ayra said in her head. She kept smiling though. “I’ll
look forward to it.” She then turned to her husband, her smile shrinking
slightly. “It’ll be like a second honeymoon, right, Ibrahim?”
Ibrahim smiled back, nodding. “In Shaa Allah.”
Ibtihaj cleared her throat. “Abeg, we are still here o. Don’t be sharing love
in our front abeg.”
Ayra laughed and so did Salim and Fareeda. Ibrahim simply smiled a little
wider while his best friends didn’t share much in the humour. When they
sobered, Salim turned to the squad. “Isabella Mariá, it has been a while. I
hope you have been good.”
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While the middle name got the attention of Ayra and Ibtihaj, Bella didn’t
bother smiling back. “I have been, Salim. I have no doubt you have been
good too.”
Salim nodded. “I have been splendid, thank you for asking.”
Ayra watched the exchange play out, Ibrahim’s tension reaching her in
small waves. Salim continued. “Nathaniel and Anneth, I see you two are still
as perfect as day one. Marriage has been really good to you two, right?”
Anneth smiled insincerely while Nathaniel replied on their behalf, her arm
linked with his. “It has been. It’s the loveliest thing.”
“I’m glad.” Salim turned to the last two members of the group. “Jalal and
Tobi. I hope we’re no longer leaving trails of one night stands and broken
hearts behind. The parties should have reduced too.”
Every laugh let out in that moment was dry and hypocritical. Jalal shrugged.
“Old habits die hard, especially for Tobi. I’m a good man.”
Unable to help it, Anneth snorted while Tobi playfully smacked Jalal’s arm.
Salim’s smile didn’t hold any humour neither did it reach his eyes. “Well, as
long as you two are fine, then that’s alright…I’m glad you all could make it.
It is really good to see you all. It’s been a few years.” He turned to his wife.
“The last time they were over was ending 2018, yeah?”
“Early 2019, right after they were awarded Best Tech Company of 2018.”
Fareeda replied, not looking away from Bella. “That was the last time.”
Ibrahim’s hold on Ayra’s hand was now ironclad and it had begun to hurt.
She tried to free herself but he barely noticed, not when he looked ready to
be swallowed up by the ground once it split into two. Ibtihaj spoke up then,
looking from one side to the other. “That’s quite a long time.”
Bella lips tipped upwards slightly. “We’ve been busy and we’ve been
travelling and then Ibrahim got to know about Ayra so…It’s been a lot.
We’re here now and just as you’re happy to see us, Salim, we’re delighted to
see you too. The last years have done you well.” She smiled like a devil
straight from the pit of hell. “I mean that in every way possible. After all,
there were some habits you –”
Ibrahim cut in then. “That’s. Enough.”
Ayra freed her hand and flexed her fingers, joining her best friend in
looking from one side to the other while the silence thickened until it could
be sliced perfectly well with a knife. All around them, the members of the
Fahad family continued talking and laughing; the party going on as planned.
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It felt like forever before Salim chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh Isabella.
You’ll never change.” With a sigh, he turned to Ayra and smiled sincerely.
“Ayra, sweetheart, Fareeda and I have a long overdue gift for you.”
Ayra blinked. “A long overdue gift?”
Fareeda nodded, her excitement becoming apparent little by little. “Yes, a
long overdue gift. The first time we had dinner together, I mentioned
renovating what would end up becoming your room. I should have finished
that before the wedding but it was a lot. After the wedding, I didn’t have it
in me to get to it. However, when we returned from Cape Town and we
were doing a full renovation, I had it finally done and I really, really loved
how it turned out.”
Ayra simply stared, unsure of what to say while the hollowness in her chest
returned, widening slightly. On both her sides, Ibrahim and Ibtihaj were
quiet. The squad was quiet too. Salim and Fareeda appeared undisturbed as
Fareeda continued, bringing her hands together in front of her, her smile
blindingly wide.
“Ibrahim always had a room he wanted to gift to the woman he ended up
marrying and since that’s you, I picked that room out for you.”
Ibrahim’s heart – what was left of it – sunk to the depths of darkness and
the band around his chest pulled until it threatened to kill him through
suffocation. Bella looked like she’d been slapped.
“It used to be white with black furniture pieces,” Fareeda continued,
focused on Ayra. “And since those weren’t colours that suited you, I
changed it all and did away with those boring furniture pieces. That’s mine
and Salim’s gift to you, Ayra, and we hope you love it as much as we do.”
Ibrahim’s voice was a pained whisper. “Mum.”
While Ibtihaj bit back a pained scoff, Ayra stared at her mother-in-law as
yet another part of her cracked. She recalled Ibrahim and Bella’s apartment;
how their colour scheme was majorly white and black. She didn’t need a
scholar to tell her the room she was being gifted had been for Bella. Every
single shoe she’d slipped into and everything she was handed had always
been for Bella. Bella was always going to come first and although it was a
realisation she’d reached that day in August, it didn’t hurt any less.
“You must have hated that colour scheme so much.” Bella said coldly. “It
surely didn’t fit the overall theme of your lovely home.”
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Fareeda smiled sweetly, nodding. “I really hated it. It was a minimalistic
room meant to be redecorated when Ibrahim got married and he’s done
just that so…” She shrugged. “Here we are.”
Salim turned to Ibrahim, holding his son’s gaze with his cold ones, both of
them saying nothing. Slowly, Ayra turned to look at Bella who still hadn’t
turned away from Fareeda. Bella’s eyes shone with a sheen layer of what
Ayra recognised – a moment later than she should have – as tears and her
hands were tight fists, her clutch in Jalal’s hands.
Looking away from Bella, Ayra took in the expressions on the others’ faces.
Jalal and Tobi stared venomously at Salim and Fareeda. Anneth and
Nathaniel stared in part-hurt and part-disbelief. Then there was Ibtihaj who
had a brow raised, very much in disbelief at the audacity of everyone and
everything.
“Ayra.” Fareeda called softly. She smiled again when Ayra turned her way.
She then reached out a hand for Ayra to take. “Come on, let’s go see the
room. Everyone else is going to come along. Friends support each other
after all and I’m quite proud of the work I’ve done.”
Ayra looked at Ibrahim who still had his gaze locked with his father’s. She
turned back to Fareeda and stared at the held out hand for a long moment
before she swallowed and stepped forward, putting her hand in Fareeda’s
outstretched one. Fareeda grinned and turned around, telling the others to
catch up as she led Ayra away, Ibtihaj following closely behind.
Salim looked away from his son, not bothering to fake a smile now that his
daughter-in-law, her best friend, and his wife were gone. “You should go
along with them. Ibrahim and I need to have a word.”
Bella’s hold on her tears was commendable. “You’re always going to be a
monster.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Isabella.” He gestured towards the path
Ayra, Fareeda, and Ibtihaj took. “You should go and see what has become
of the room you delusionally thought you’d occupy if Fareeda and I ever
gave our blessings. Let this be your closure and let it make our stance clear.
Ayra is our daughter-in-law and I don’t care what you think you’re doing or
what you five are going to do but that’s never going to change. We never
accepted you and Ibrahim, and we’re never going to do so. You’ll never be
Mrs Ibrahim Fahad, Isabella. Get that into your head now.”
He turned around and walked in the opposite direction of his wife and
daughter-in-law. “Come with me, Ibrahim.”
Bella turned to Ibrahim, a tear finally breaking free. “Serkan.”
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Ibrahim turned from his father’s retreating figure, towards the woman he’d
always been sure he’d love until his last breath. He was breaking once again,
tearing into way too many shreds. Like her, a tear had slid down his cheek
and his eyes were glassy with a dam that was waiting to be unleashed.
“Ibrahim.” Salim called, his tone stern; just as it had been years back.
Ibrahim’s chest constricted even more and he found himself looking away
from Bella and the others, whispering “I’m so sorry.”
Inside the mansion, Fareeda happily led Ayra down the corridors. She only
let go of Ayra’s hands when they reached the door after Ibrahim’s. Smiling
so widely and beautifully, Fareeda told both Ayra and Ibtihaj to brace
themselves and then let a moment pass for the fun of it before she pushed
the room’s double doors open. “Ta-da!”
Back outside, Salim stopped in a private corner, surrounded all around by
trees. Reining in his rage, he turned around to face his son. “What the hell
do you think you’re doing, Ibrahim?!”
Ibrahim felt every restraint of his begin to snap. “Dad, please.”
“You’re still seeing Bella?” Salim seethed, stepping forward so he was in his
son’s face. “I made myself clear in 2011, Ibrahim. I made myself clear again
and again in 2013, 2015, 2017, and that day in 2019. I never stuttered
neither did your mother and you thought you could play us for fools?!”
Ibrahim broke further and further. “Dad…”
“You were on your best behaviour throughout that year and we thought
things were going to fall into place for us as a family. You then said you’d
seen someone you liked and it was Ayra. She wasn’t who we imagined you’d
bring home but she was good enough and we gave our blessings. Now
you’re trying to tell me all of it was a lie just so yours and Bella’s
relationship could continue? Answer me, Ibrahim!”
Ibrahim couldn’t bring himself to do so; not when a sob had lodged itself in
his throat; not when he was in way too many fragments that he didn’t know
how or where he was to start picking himself from. A minute passed before
Salim exhaled and it was long. He put his hands on his son’s shoulders.
“Ibrahim.” His tone was softer. “Ibrahim, this is going to backfire and
you’ll hate yourself and hate every single moment of it. Ibrahim, don’t be
like me. Do not put someone through what I put your mother through
simply because I wanted to get my family off my back while continuing to
live the life I was certain was the best for me. I hate myself for it every day
and you don’t want to go down that road. Please, Ibrahim…I haven’t
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begged you for anything but this is me begging you now. Don’t do this,
Ibrahim. Please.”
And just like he’d done with his mother, Ibrahim crumbled to dust in front
of his father. In the mansion, Ayra took small steps into the room that had
been so beautifully done in pastel shades that came together so well, feeling
nothing but a sad heaviness in her chest. Behind her, Ibtihaj’s chest
squeezed; her heart going out to her best friend. Oblivious to the feeling of
both women, Fareeda looked around with a satisfied – and proud – smile
on her face.
In the fitness centre of the mansion, Bella locked herself in the female
restroom. Although it killed her so much, she stood with her hands tightly
gripping the edge of the marble sink slab and cried, her emotions one thick
mix while a frustrated – and angry – scream was doing everything possible
to break free from her voice box.
Back where they stood, Salim did the one thing he hadn’t done in over two
decades. He hugged Ibrahim and hesitantly, he began patting his son’s back,
a little crack forming in his chest; right where his heart was. Oblivious to all
that was going on, the other members of the Fahad family continued
partying.
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40
Wanting to get away from everything as her act was starting to crumble,
Ayra descended the stairs of the mansion and hurried out through the main
doors. The front of the house was empty as every single person was at the
rear gardens and Ayra was so focused on getting to the fountain that she
didn’t realise someone was walking in her direction, admiring the mansion
with a smile on her face.
Both women collided into each other and the glass of wine the other
woman held fell to the ground, cracking on the side that took the impact
while the red liquid spilled. Both women jumped back, avoiding getting the
liquid on their dresses and Ayra’s apology rushed past her lips.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I should have –”
The female Fahad raised a hand. “You should be sorry.” Once she was sure
her dress was not soiled in any spot, she let her hand drop and raised her
head. “You should have paid more attention to where you were going.”
Ayra’s throat dried and she was thrown back to the previous year when the
Fahad women came over to her parents’ house without any prior notice to
discuss hers and Ibrahim’s wedding. The woman who stood in front of her
in that moment had the same face – just a younger version – of the same
woman who’d said “Is this the family Ibrahim’s marrying into, Fareeda? Because we
can honestly do better”.
“Are you just going to stand there, gawking?”
Ayra snapped out of her head and managed a small smile. “I should have
paid more attention to where I was going. I’m sorry.”
The other female said nothing and made a show of dusting her dress’s hem.
She stopped halfway and with slightly furrowed brows, she looked at Ayra
again. When the realisation dawned, she raised a brow and her lips curled
up in a smile that raised the hairs on the back of Ayra’s neck.
“Well, if it isn’t my cousin’s wife.” Her smile stretched. “Ayra, right?”
Ayra nodded once. “Right. I apologise, I don’t recognise you.”
The other woman flipped a wrist in dismissal. “Of course you won’t. I’ve
never met you. Never saw the need to do so when I didn’t approve of
Ibrahim marrying you. I still don’t approve by the way but the deed’s been
done so…”
Ayra wasn’t sure there was more she could take; not when she had cracks
everywhere and wounds that weren’t even getting the chance to heal before
they were torn open again.
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“But for introduction’s sake, I am Maryam Fahad, the daughter of Kenan
and Sabeeha Fahad. You should have met my mother.” Maryam folded her
arms, still smiling in the way that didn’t sit well with Ayra. “She let us know
just how well the first meeting with your family went. Like her, I think
Ibrahim, Aunt Fareeda, and Uncle Salim could have done better than you.
But then again, maybe that’s what they get for constantly rejecting a woman
like Bella. Serves them right and it sucks to be you, Ayra. It really sucks.”
Ayra told herself to turn around and keep walking but her body felt like
lead; as though it wasn’t hers and she was living out someone else’s story.
No one in the Fahad family – no matter how they judged and looked down
on her – had told her they didn’t like her as Ibrahim’s wife to her face but
here Maryam was, doing exactly that. It hurt Ayra, even more than the
reminder of her being second to Bella had done.
“I know that must seem harsh to say,” Maryam continued. “But I’ve never
been one to mince my words. Neither have my mother and father. You
already have one experience with my mother so…” She then sighed.
“How’s marriage treating you, Ayra? Surely by now you should know that
you’re Ibrahim’s trophy wife, right? Ibrahim, in his right mind, won’t marry
someone like you but desperate times do call for desperate measures. When
I heard about the crazy plan they’d come up with, I was all for it. I’m sure
you know about it now so you don’t have to pretend around me or around
most people here. You’re nothing but a woman to be shown to the public
as Mrs Ibrahim Fahad but between you and me, we know who the real Mrs
Ibrahim Fahad is.”
Ayra’s nails dug into her palms with how tightly her hands were as fists. She
pushed the tears back with every might, refusing to break down in front of
Maryam although that was all she wanted to do.
Maryam sighed again and turned towards the fountain where Ayra had been
headed. “I was one of those who expected you to be pregnant by now or to
have popped out a kid already as this month is going to make it ten months
since you and Ibrahim got married. I’m surprised Aunt Fareeda and Uncle
Salim haven’t started asking for grandkids yet. But then again, they do the
things we never expect and then do not do the things that we expect. Very
unpredictable, those two, and very sad too.”
Ayra focused on breathing; in through her nose and out – quietly – through
parted lips.
“I can still remember the first time Ibrahim brought Bella here. It was
during Uncle Salim and Aunt Fareeda’s wedding anniversary party in 2011.”
Maryam smiled fondly at the memory. “I remember being blown away by
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Bella’s beauty and I laughed so much that night with Anneth, Jalal, and
Tobi. Nathaniel had his professional exams so he couldn’t make it but he
made sure to send a gift. More than half of the family welcomed Bella with
open arms. I mean, what else were we supposed to do? Beauty, brains,
elegance, and nobility. She’s from old money too. She was the perfect
companion and it was so clear that Ibrahim loved her but Uncle Salim and
Aunt Fareeda said no. That she wasn’t good enough for Ibrahim.” She
scoffed. “What a load of bullshit. Bella wasn’t good for Ibrahim but you
were? Oh please!”
Ayra finally found her voice. “Why are you telling me this?”
Maryam faced her once again, her smile gone. She half-shrugged. “Simply
because I don’t like you. I never have and I don’t think I ever will.” She
stepped over the spill that had spread on the driveway, closing the space
between them. “Only about one per cent of this family tolerates you and
while they don’t like doing classless things such as fighting, I’m not afraid to
state the clear truth.”
Her eyes – and expression – were as cold as ice. “You’re just a Fahad in
name, Ayra, nothing else. No one cares about you. Even Uncle Salim and
Aunt Fareeda don’t like you as much as you think but since you’re going to
be around forever, they’ll probably make an effort to be the so-called good
in-laws you want. No one else likes you, certainly not me. It’s always been
Bella and it’s always going to be Bella. Whether or not you and Ibrahim
spend the rest of your lives together, whether or not you and Ibrahim have
or adopt kids, it’s always going to Bella. You’ll always be second place and
no one is going to spare you any attention when it’s not needed.”
She reached out and dusted invincible lint off Ayra’s shoulders. “So if I
were you, I’d stop dreaming of a day when Ibrahim would love me and I’d
stop deluding myself that I’m going to have a life full of roses because
you’re only going to keep lying to yourself, sweetheart. If I were you, I’ll
just use the money to keep myself busy and maybe pop out a kid or two for
companionship but even kids can be annoying and extremely silly so…The
bottom line, Ayra, is that you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself and try to be a
You’re seeing me too late, Ibrahim, she wanted to say. You should have looked at me
this way a long time ago.
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He stepped forward and took her free hand in his, lacing her fingers. He
stared at their hands for a moment, as though he’d never seen anything
more beautiful, before bringing his eyes to hers; giving her a glimpse of his
pain and anguish before he brought his walls up. His smile returned, a little
wider than it had been. “This is a new dress, right?”
She nodded, keeping her act going. “It is. You should be paying more
attention to your bank statements, Ibrahim Fahad, because this was covered
with your card.”
His smile stretched and his expression brightened sincerely. “I wouldn’t
have had it any other way.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, right above
her dimple. “It was worth every penny, that I can assure you.”
Her chest felt like it’d been scratched for what should have been the
billionth time. “Thank you.”
He straightened. “You’re welcome.”
Her dress was black; a high-necked satin A-line dress with a wide sash that
accentuated her slender waist and bishop sleeves that covered the length of
both her arms. Like his mother, her turban was simple but her hair was
entirely covered. Her earrings, as was becoming regular with her, were
simple silver studs and they matched her black and silver clutch which held
her phone and cards. Although the dress covered her heels, she had no
doubt he knew she wore them as she was definitely taller.
The sound of approaching footsteps forced them to break eye contact and
they both turned to see Ibtihaj walking over, disbelief written clearly on her
face. Just like her mother, Ibtihaj clapped her hands dramatically and
stopped in front of them.
“I was outside there standing like mumu and you people are here sharing
love. Hian!” She glared at Ibrahim, in a way that came with practiced ease
that Ayra saw through. “You! Oga, are you not supposed to be in the
gardens? We’re supposed to meet you there.”
Ayra watched her husband offer her best friend yet another small smile.
“Mum asked me to drop something for her. I was just coming back down
when I ran into Ayra.” He turned to her and his smile widened. “Perfect
timing, I must say.”
Ayra knew Ibtihaj wanted to smack Ibrahim’s head so she suggested “Why
don’t we head out to the garden?”
Ibrahim agreed but with reluctance that Ayra didn’t miss. He held her hand
the entire walk while Ibtihaj stayed on her other side, engaging Ayra in
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small talk. The sight of the decorated rear gardens had Ayra stopping in her
tracks briefly to appreciate it all.
She had to give it to the event planner – whoever it was. The event’s layout
was breath-taking and it brought a sad smile to her face as she reached the
realisation that she’d never again be excited for another Fahad event.
When Ibrahim led her forward, she let him. He led her and Ibtihaj down
the stairs and they got sucked into the crowd of faces and names Ayra knew
and those she didn’t. There were polite greetings and little talks and not
once did Ibrahim let go of Ayra’s hand. She was ironically glad as his and
Ibtihaj’s presence was a sort of anchor she could hang onto as she clearly
saw the way she was looked at and judged; how gazes scrutinized her from
head to toe; how some few gazes first moved to her stomach, as though
they expected to see a bump and then relieved that there was none.
Ayra told herself to ignore it all but it was easier said than done. Before
long, they joined the squad and she put her smile back on, the same way
five of them did; all of them acting like they always did. Bella put away her
glass of champagne. “Ibty and Ayra, you two look stunning.”
Ibtihaj, who wore a similar dress to Ayra’s but in the wine purple shade,
mimicked a hair flip. “We have to impress so…You sha, you’re stealing the
show tonight. You’re prettier than everyone else here.”
Ayra saw it although it was subtle; the arrogant shift in Bella’s composure
and the way she – Bella – stood a little taller, feeling validated. Ayra wanted
to laugh but she knew better than to do so. She echoed Ibtihaj’s words and
then went on to compliment Anneth, Nathaniel, Jalal, and Tobi. They
returned her complements and she forced herself to blush, as though she
still wasn’t used to complements. A moment passed before she re-focused
on Bella.
“About what happened on Saturday night, Bella, I’m sorry.” She kept her
pitch perfect; soft and apologetic. “I’ve wanted to reach out all week but I
didn’t feel so courageous. It wasn’t my intention to make you
uncomfortable or anything.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Bella told her. “We’re fine now so it’s no big deal. Also, I
should have told you that Serkan calls me Sevgilim so it’s kinda my fault too.
It’s fine, Ayra. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“Are you sure?”
Bella nodded. “I am.” She turned to the others. “Right, guys?”
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They all gave affirmative replies before turning to Ibrahim who, just like the
previous Saturday night, was quiet. No one said anything, the silence a little
awkward. Thankfully, Salim and Fareeda walked over and Ayra didn’t miss
the way Salim hid his coldness behind a smile he directed her way and
Ibtihaj’s.
“Well, well, well.” He said, his smile widening. “If it isn’t Ibrahim, Ayra,
Ibty, and the Hexad squad.”
Ibrahim’s hold on Ayra’s hand tightened a little. “Dad.”
Salim patted his son’s shoulder. “Hello, Ibrahim. We should have a
discussion before we leave.”
Ibrahim held onto Ayra’s hand a little tighter. “It better not be about
politics.”
Salim laughed, his hand dropping to his side. “I dare not.” He turned to his
daughter-in-law and her best friend. “Ayra and Ibty. Do allow Fareeda and
I congratulate you on your master’s graduation. It is way late, we know that,
and we apologise. We hope you can forgive us.”
Ayra’s smile was radiant. “We didn’t hold anything against you in the first
place, Dad.”
Ibtihaj nodded, smiling too. “Exactly.”
“I hope you had a nice time at Cape Town?” Ayra asked. “You two stayed
there for a while.”
Fareeda nodded with a smile of her own. “We had a splendid time. There
was no rush to return so we soaked it all in. Cape Town would always be a
favourite place for us. Maybe when next we’re going, you can come along.
Ibrahim too.”
There won’t be a next time, Ayra said in her head. She kept smiling though. “I’ll
look forward to it.” She then turned to her husband, her smile shrinking
slightly. “It’ll be like a second honeymoon, right, Ibrahim?”
Ibrahim smiled back, nodding. “In Shaa Allah.”
Ibtihaj cleared her throat. “Abeg, we are still here o. Don’t be sharing love
in our front abeg.”
Ayra laughed and so did Salim and Fareeda. Ibrahim simply smiled a little
wider while his best friends didn’t share much in the humour. When they
sobered, Salim turned to the squad. “Isabella Mariá, it has been a while. I
hope you have been good.”
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While the middle name got the attention of Ayra and Ibtihaj, Bella didn’t
bother smiling back. “I have been, Salim. I have no doubt you have been
good too.”
Salim nodded. “I have been splendid, thank you for asking.”
Ayra watched the exchange play out, Ibrahim’s tension reaching her in
small waves. Salim continued. “Nathaniel and Anneth, I see you two are still
as perfect as day one. Marriage has been really good to you two, right?”
Anneth smiled insincerely while Nathaniel replied on their behalf, her arm
linked with his. “It has been. It’s the loveliest thing.”
“I’m glad.” Salim turned to the last two members of the group. “Jalal and
Tobi. I hope we’re no longer leaving trails of one night stands and broken
hearts behind. The parties should have reduced too.”
Every laugh let out in that moment was dry and hypocritical. Jalal shrugged.
“Old habits die hard, especially for Tobi. I’m a good man.”
Unable to help it, Anneth snorted while Tobi playfully smacked Jalal’s arm.
Salim’s smile didn’t hold any humour neither did it reach his eyes. “Well, as
long as you two are fine, then that’s alright…I’m glad you all could make it.
It is really good to see you all. It’s been a few years.” He turned to his wife.
“The last time they were over was ending 2018, yeah?”
“Early 2019, right after they were awarded Best Tech Company of 2018.”
Fareeda replied, not looking away from Bella. “That was the last time.”
Ibrahim’s hold on Ayra’s hand was now ironclad and it had begun to hurt.
She tried to free herself but he barely noticed, not when he looked ready to
be swallowed up by the ground once it split into two. Ibtihaj spoke up then,
looking from one side to the other. “That’s quite a long time.”
Bella lips tipped upwards slightly. “We’ve been busy and we’ve been
travelling and then Ibrahim got to know about Ayra so…It’s been a lot.
We’re here now and just as you’re happy to see us, Salim, we’re delighted to
see you too. The last years have done you well.” She smiled like a devil
straight from the pit of hell. “I mean that in every way possible. After all,
there were some habits you –”
Ibrahim cut in then. “That’s. Enough.”
Ayra freed her hand and flexed her fingers, joining her best friend in
looking from one side to the other while the silence thickened until it could
be sliced perfectly well with a knife. All around them, the members of the
Fahad family continued talking and laughing; the party going on as planned.
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It felt like forever before Salim chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh Isabella.
You’ll never change.” With a sigh, he turned to Ayra and smiled sincerely.
“Ayra, sweetheart, Fareeda and I have a long overdue gift for you.”
Ayra blinked. “A long overdue gift?”
Fareeda nodded, her excitement becoming apparent little by little. “Yes, a
long overdue gift. The first time we had dinner together, I mentioned
renovating what would end up becoming your room. I should have finished
that before the wedding but it was a lot. After the wedding, I didn’t have it
in me to get to it. However, when we returned from Cape Town and we
were doing a full renovation, I had it finally done and I really, really loved
how it turned out.”
Ayra simply stared, unsure of what to say while the hollowness in her chest
returned, widening slightly. On both her sides, Ibrahim and Ibtihaj were
quiet. The squad was quiet too. Salim and Fareeda appeared undisturbed as
Fareeda continued, bringing her hands together in front of her, her smile
blindingly wide.
“Ibrahim always had a room he wanted to gift to the woman he ended up
marrying and since that’s you, I picked that room out for you.”
Ibrahim’s heart – what was left of it – sunk to the depths of darkness and
the band around his chest pulled until it threatened to kill him through
suffocation. Bella looked like she’d been slapped.
“It used to be white with black furniture pieces,” Fareeda continued,
focused on Ayra. “And since those weren’t colours that suited you, I
changed it all and did away with those boring furniture pieces. That’s mine
and Salim’s gift to you, Ayra, and we hope you love it as much as we do.”
Ibrahim’s voice was a pained whisper. “Mum.”
While Ibtihaj bit back a pained scoff, Ayra stared at her mother-in-law as
yet another part of her cracked. She recalled Ibrahim and Bella’s apartment;
how their colour scheme was majorly white and black. She didn’t need a
scholar to tell her the room she was being gifted had been for Bella. Every
single shoe she’d slipped into and everything she was handed had always
been for Bella. Bella was always going to come first and although it was a
realisation she’d reached that day in August, it didn’t hurt any less.
“You must have hated that colour scheme so much.” Bella said coldly. “It
surely didn’t fit the overall theme of your lovely home.”
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Fareeda smiled sweetly, nodding. “I really hated it. It was a minimalistic
room meant to be redecorated when Ibrahim got married and he’s done
just that so…” She shrugged. “Here we are.”
Salim turned to Ibrahim, holding his son’s gaze with his cold ones, both of
them saying nothing. Slowly, Ayra turned to look at Bella who still hadn’t
turned away from Fareeda. Bella’s eyes shone with a sheen layer of what
Ayra recognised – a moment later than she should have – as tears and her
hands were tight fists, her clutch in Jalal’s hands.
Looking away from Bella, Ayra took in the expressions on the others’ faces.
Jalal and Tobi stared venomously at Salim and Fareeda. Anneth and
Nathaniel stared in part-hurt and part-disbelief. Then there was Ibtihaj who
had a brow raised, very much in disbelief at the audacity of everyone and
everything.
“Ayra.” Fareeda called softly. She smiled again when Ayra turned her way.
She then reached out a hand for Ayra to take. “Come on, let’s go see the
room. Everyone else is going to come along. Friends support each other
after all and I’m quite proud of the work I’ve done.”
Ayra looked at Ibrahim who still had his gaze locked with his father’s. She
turned back to Fareeda and stared at the held out hand for a long moment
before she swallowed and stepped forward, putting her hand in Fareeda’s
outstretched one. Fareeda grinned and turned around, telling the others to
catch up as she led Ayra away, Ibtihaj following closely behind.
Salim looked away from his son, not bothering to fake a smile now that his
daughter-in-law, her best friend, and his wife were gone. “You should go
along with them. Ibrahim and I need to have a word.”
Bella’s hold on her tears was commendable. “You’re always going to be a
monster.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Isabella.” He gestured towards the path
Ayra, Fareeda, and Ibtihaj took. “You should go and see what has become
of the room you delusionally thought you’d occupy if Fareeda and I ever
gave our blessings. Let this be your closure and let it make our stance clear.
Ayra is our daughter-in-law and I don’t care what you think you’re doing or
what you five are going to do but that’s never going to change. We never
accepted you and Ibrahim, and we’re never going to do so. You’ll never be
Mrs Ibrahim Fahad, Isabella. Get that into your head now.”
He turned around and walked in the opposite direction of his wife and
daughter-in-law. “Come with me, Ibrahim.”
Bella turned to Ibrahim, a tear finally breaking free. “Serkan.”
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Ibrahim turned from his father’s retreating figure, towards the woman he’d
always been sure he’d love until his last breath. He was breaking once again,
tearing into way too many shreds. Like her, a tear had slid down his cheek
and his eyes were glassy with a dam that was waiting to be unleashed.
“Ibrahim.” Salim called, his tone stern; just as it had been years back.
Ibrahim’s chest constricted even more and he found himself looking away
from Bella and the others, whispering “I’m so sorry.”
Inside the mansion, Fareeda happily led Ayra down the corridors. She only
let go of Ayra’s hands when they reached the door after Ibrahim’s. Smiling
so widely and beautifully, Fareeda told both Ayra and Ibtihaj to brace
themselves and then let a moment pass for the fun of it before she pushed
the room’s double doors open. “Ta-da!”
Back outside, Salim stopped in a private corner, surrounded all around by
trees. Reining in his rage, he turned around to face his son. “What the hell
do you think you’re doing, Ibrahim?!”
Ibrahim felt every restraint of his begin to snap. “Dad, please.”
“You’re still seeing Bella?” Salim seethed, stepping forward so he was in his
son’s face. “I made myself clear in 2011, Ibrahim. I made myself clear again
and again in 2013, 2015, 2017, and that day in 2019. I never stuttered
neither did your mother and you thought you could play us for fools?!”
Ibrahim broke further and further. “Dad…”
“You were on your best behaviour throughout that year and we thought
things were going to fall into place for us as a family. You then said you’d
seen someone you liked and it was Ayra. She wasn’t who we imagined you’d
bring home but she was good enough and we gave our blessings. Now
you’re trying to tell me all of it was a lie just so yours and Bella’s
relationship could continue? Answer me, Ibrahim!”
Ibrahim couldn’t bring himself to do so; not when a sob had lodged itself in
his throat; not when he was in way too many fragments that he didn’t know
how or where he was to start picking himself from. A minute passed before
Salim exhaled and it was long. He put his hands on his son’s shoulders.
“Ibrahim.” His tone was softer. “Ibrahim, this is going to backfire and
you’ll hate yourself and hate every single moment of it. Ibrahim, don’t be
like me. Do not put someone through what I put your mother through
simply because I wanted to get my family off my back while continuing to
live the life I was certain was the best for me. I hate myself for it every day
and you don’t want to go down that road. Please, Ibrahim…I haven’t
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begged you for anything but this is me begging you now. Don’t do this,
Ibrahim. Please.”
And just like he’d done with his mother, Ibrahim crumbled to dust in front
of his father. In the mansion, Ayra took small steps into the room that had
been so beautifully done in pastel shades that came together so well, feeling
nothing but a sad heaviness in her chest. Behind her, Ibtihaj’s chest
squeezed; her heart going out to her best friend. Oblivious to the feeling of
both women, Fareeda looked around with a satisfied – and proud – smile
on her face.
In the fitness centre of the mansion, Bella locked herself in the female
restroom. Although it killed her so much, she stood with her hands tightly
gripping the edge of the marble sink slab and cried, her emotions one thick
mix while a frustrated – and angry – scream was doing everything possible
to break free from her voice box.
Back where they stood, Salim did the one thing he hadn’t done in over two
decades. He hugged Ibrahim and hesitantly, he began patting his son’s back,
a little crack forming in his chest; right where his heart was. Oblivious to all
that was going on, the other members of the Fahad family continued
partying.
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402
40
Wanting to get away from everything as her act was starting to crumble,
Ayra descended the stairs of the mansion and hurried out through the main
doors. The front of the house was empty as every single person was at the
rear gardens and Ayra was so focused on getting to the fountain that she
didn’t realise someone was walking in her direction, admiring the mansion
with a smile on her face.
Both women collided into each other and the glass of wine the other
woman held fell to the ground, cracking on the side that took the impact
while the red liquid spilled. Both women jumped back, avoiding getting the
liquid on their dresses and Ayra’s apology rushed past her lips.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I should have –”
The female Fahad raised a hand. “You should be sorry.” Once she was sure
her dress was not soiled in any spot, she let her hand drop and raised her
head. “You should have paid more attention to where you were going.”
Ayra’s throat dried and she was thrown back to the previous year when the
Fahad women came over to her parents’ house without any prior notice to
discuss hers and Ibrahim’s wedding. The woman who stood in front of her
in that moment had the same face – just a younger version – of the same
woman who’d said “Is this the family Ibrahim’s marrying into, Fareeda? Because we
can honestly do better”.
“Are you just going to stand there, gawking?”
Ayra snapped out of her head and managed a small smile. “I should have
paid more attention to where I was going. I’m sorry.”
The other female said nothing and made a show of dusting her dress’s hem.
She stopped halfway and with slightly furrowed brows, she looked at Ayra
again. When the realisation dawned, she raised a brow and her lips curled
up in a smile that raised the hairs on the back of Ayra’s neck.
“Well, if it isn’t my cousin’s wife.” Her smile stretched. “Ayra, right?”
Ayra nodded once. “Right. I apologise, I don’t recognise you.”
The other woman flipped a wrist in dismissal. “Of course you won’t. I’ve
never met you. Never saw the need to do so when I didn’t approve of
Ibrahim marrying you. I still don’t approve by the way but the deed’s been
done so…”
Ayra wasn’t sure there was more she could take; not when she had cracks
everywhere and wounds that weren’t even getting the chance to heal before
they were torn open again.
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“But for introduction’s sake, I am Maryam Fahad, the daughter of Kenan
and Sabeeha Fahad. You should have met my mother.” Maryam folded her
arms, still smiling in the way that didn’t sit well with Ayra. “She let us know
just how well the first meeting with your family went. Like her, I think
Ibrahim, Aunt Fareeda, and Uncle Salim could have done better than you.
But then again, maybe that’s what they get for constantly rejecting a woman
like Bella. Serves them right and it sucks to be you, Ayra. It really sucks.”
Ayra told herself to turn around and keep walking but her body felt like
lead; as though it wasn’t hers and she was living out someone else’s story.
No one in the Fahad family – no matter how they judged and looked down
on her – had told her they didn’t like her as Ibrahim’s wife to her face but
here Maryam was, doing exactly that. It hurt Ayra, even more than the
reminder of her being second to Bella had done.
“I know that must seem harsh to say,” Maryam continued. “But I’ve never
been one to mince my words. Neither have my mother and father. You
already have one experience with my mother so…” She then sighed.
“How’s marriage treating you, Ayra? Surely by now you should know that
you’re Ibrahim’s trophy wife, right? Ibrahim, in his right mind, won’t marry
someone like you but desperate times do call for desperate measures. When
I heard about the crazy plan they’d come up with, I was all for it. I’m sure
you know about it now so you don’t have to pretend around me or around
most people here. You’re nothing but a woman to be shown to the public
as Mrs Ibrahim Fahad but between you and me, we know who the real Mrs
Ibrahim Fahad is.”
Ayra’s nails dug into her palms with how tightly her hands were as fists. She
pushed the tears back with every might, refusing to break down in front of
Maryam although that was all she wanted to do.
Maryam sighed again and turned towards the fountain where Ayra had been
headed. “I was one of those who expected you to be pregnant by now or to
have popped out a kid already as this month is going to make it ten months
since you and Ibrahim got married. I’m surprised Aunt Fareeda and Uncle
Salim haven’t started asking for grandkids yet. But then again, they do the
things we never expect and then do not do the things that we expect. Very
unpredictable, those two, and very sad too.”
Ayra focused on breathing; in through her nose and out – quietly – through
parted lips.
“I can still remember the first time Ibrahim brought Bella here. It was
during Uncle Salim and Aunt Fareeda’s wedding anniversary party in 2011.”
Maryam smiled fondly at the memory. “I remember being blown away by
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Bella’s beauty and I laughed so much that night with Anneth, Jalal, and
Tobi. Nathaniel had his professional exams so he couldn’t make it but he
made sure to send a gift. More than half of the family welcomed Bella with
open arms. I mean, what else were we supposed to do? Beauty, brains,
elegance, and nobility. She’s from old money too. She was the perfect
companion and it was so clear that Ibrahim loved her but Uncle Salim and
Aunt Fareeda said no. That she wasn’t good enough for Ibrahim.” She
scoffed. “What a load of bullshit. Bella wasn’t good for Ibrahim but you
were? Oh please!”
Ayra finally found her voice. “Why are you telling me this?”
Maryam faced her once again, her smile gone. She half-shrugged. “Simply
because I don’t like you. I never have and I don’t think I ever will.” She
stepped over the spill that had spread on the driveway, closing the space
between them. “Only about one per cent of this family tolerates you and
while they don’t like doing classless things such as fighting, I’m not afraid to
state the clear truth.”
Her eyes – and expression – were as cold as ice. “You’re just a Fahad in
name, Ayra, nothing else. No one cares about you. Even Uncle Salim and
Aunt Fareeda don’t like you as much as you think but since you’re going to
be around forever, they’ll probably make an effort to be the so-called good
in-laws you want. No one else likes you, certainly not me. It’s always been
Bella and it’s always going to be Bella. Whether or not you and Ibrahim
spend the rest of your lives together, whether or not you and Ibrahim have
or adopt kids, it’s always going to Bella. You’ll always be second place and
no one is going to spare you any attention when it’s not needed.”
She reached out and dusted invincible lint off Ayra’s shoulders. “So if I
were you, I’d stop dreaming of a day when Ibrahim would love me and I’d
stop deluding myself that I’m going to have a life full of roses because
you’re only going to keep lying to yourself, sweetheart. If I were you, I’ll
just use the money to keep myself busy and maybe pop out a kid or two for
companionship but even kids can be annoying and extremely silly so…The
bottom line, Ayra, is that you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself and try to be a