part of this family because you’re not welcome here. You’re never going to

be.”
♣
It took Ibrahim an hour to realise Ayra and Ibtihaj were gone. With his
heart hammering in his chest, he checked every single room and corner,
holding onto the hope that they were still somewhere on the property. The
hope dwindled with each place he checked being empty.

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“They left a while ago, sir.” One of the security men told him when he
brought himself to ask if anyone had seen his wife. “They said they weren’t
feeling too well.”
Ibrahim nodded, as though the band around his chest wasn’t tightening
once again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
He walked back to the rear gardens and listened of a minute of his parents’
appreciation speech before he ditched it and headed to the wellness centre.
His friends sat by the pool and they all turned his way when he approached
them slowly.
Bella’s face was flushed and it stung him, just not as much as it used to. She
sat on the pool’s edge, Jalal’s jacket on her shoulders while her dress was
bunched up, her legs in the pool. Beside her, Anneth sat the same way,
Nathaniel’s jacket on her shoulders.
“How nice of you to finally join us, Serkan.” Bella said, her words a little
slurred. Ibrahim noticed the bottle of wine between her and Anneth then.
“Sono sicura che stasera sei stato il miglior marito (I’m sure you’ve been the best
husband tonight).”
He hadn’t been and Ibrahim knew it. The apology slipped past his lips
although he didn’t know what he was apologising for. “I’m sorry.”
With a sigh, Nathaniel pushed himself off the lounger he’d occupied.
“Guess we could say the same thing too. They must have charmed us with
something for us to actually show up.”
“And get humiliated.” Jalal added. He let out a small, dry laugh. “It never
changes. It’s a never ending cycle.” He stood too. “If I were you, Ibrahim,
I’d honestly consider cutting them off for good. I mean, it’s not impossible
to legally disown parents. It gets worse each time we come here. I’m sick
and tired of it.”
Bella laughed drunkenly. “It’s funny how we never considered that.” She
sniffled, pushing hair out of her face. “We came up with a plan of marrying
Ayra to cover up everything when we could have just gotten you to cut
your parents off, Serkan.” She blew a raspberry. “I mean, you could have
done well on your own and we’ll have the company and everything else. We
would have been married and we wouldn’t have had to care about anyone’s
blessings…We should have done that.”
Beside her, Anneth nodded while staring at her feet in the water. “We really
should have.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
406

Ibrahim turned away from them to the clear water, his chest – once again –
tight. As at the time they came up with the plan to marry someone to cover
up his relationship with Bella, he would have gladly given into the idea of
cutting his parents off and going ahead with what he wanted. In that
moment though, Ibrahim couldn’t bring himself to even consider it; not
when he wanted more of what he and Ayra had; not when two hugs from
his parents had him feeling vulnerably safe, something he would have
sworn would never happen with how rocky his relationship with Salim and
Fareeda had always been.
“What did they even tell you anyway?” Tobi asked, causing Ibrahim to face
him. “Your so called righteous Mum and Dad, what did they say?”
Ibrahim opened his mouth but Anneth beat him to it. She scoffed. “You
should know the answer to that. They’ve gone on and on about it for so
long that they’re already sounding like a broken record. They told him to
end things with Bella and I’m sure they reminded him that he’s married to
poor, little Ayra and that she should be his top priority.”
Bella snorted and then she giggled. “Poor little Ayra.” She let out a loud
sigh. “God, I hate that girl.” She raised her head and looked at Ibrahim.
“Maybe we should go ahead with you disowning your parents, Serkan. I
mean, you’re more than capable of standing on your two feet and you’re
not a child anymore that they can control.”
Anneth nodded, quite eagerly. “We should do that and when that’s done,
we should get started on divorcing you from Ayra.”
Bella grinned. “Yes! And then we can take a few months after the divorce
to fool the public that we’re grieving and then we’ll come out publicly as a
couple. Anneth, you’re so smart!”
Anneth grinned right back. “I am!”
Nathaniel chuckled. “Your minds would never cease to amaze me.”
Tobi was smiling too. “Tell me about it.”
Jalal smiled at both women until he turned Ibrahim’s way. His smile
dropped. “Ibrahim?”
That got the others’ attention and like him, their smiles dropped. Where he
stood, Ibrahim’s face had lost its colour and he stared at them as though
they were strangers with the faces of his friends. It was scary, to Ibrahim, to
recall how they’d sat in a similar setting back in 2019. They were all hung-
over, recovering from drinking their asses off the night before at the party a
friend hosted; a party where Tobi had drunkenly mentioned Ibrahim getting

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married to someone his parents would approve of just so he and Bella
could carry on with their relationship.
“Now that we’re not all that drunk, it’s actually a good idea.” Anneth had said.
“Let’s try to draw it out and look at the loopholes so we can fix it.”
“You will say yes, Ibrahim, right?” Bella had asked, stealing a kiss and drawing
out a small groan from him when she bit down softly on his lower lip
before letting go. “You love me enough to do that so…”
Tobi was on his feet. “Ibrahim, are you okay?”
Ibrahim took a step back, his mother’s earlier words ringing in his head.
“What I do know is that you’re going to get hurt. When that happens, you’re going to see
every reason why your father and I told you Bella and the others aren’t good for you.”
Nathaniel got to him first. He reached out to hold Ibrahim’s hand.
“Ibrahim, yo, what’s –”
Ibrahim moved as though he’d been burnt. Anneth and Bella were on their
feet now and Bella was so much sober than she’d been when he’d walked
in. Ibrahim looked from one person to the other, taking in their worried
faces but it clashed against the expressions that were frozen in his head; the
way their faces had lit up just minutes earlier as they told him to disown his
parents and then divorce Ayra, just like they’d convinced him to marry
someone to cover up his and Bella’s relationship.
“Let me tell you something, Ibrahim, and I don’t care if you’re going to listen to me or
not.” Salim had said back in that same 2019, after stating he was never going
to accept Bella into his house. “Those people?” He’d pointed in the direction
of one of the drawing rooms where Fareeda sat with the squad. “They’re
never going to sacrifice so much for you. But you, Ibrahim, you’re going to sacrifice yourself
for them and when you have nothing left, you’ll see such how easily they’d leave you. I only
hope by then, you still have little to cling onto just so you’re not an empty shell. That’s all
I hope for you, Ibrahim.”
“Ibrahim.” It was Bella. “You’re scaring us.”
“Was it what we said?” Anneth asked. “We were just coming up with a
solution, the way we always do.”
Feeling a chill that definitely didn’t come from the water, Ibrahim turned
around and he ran. He didn’t stop, not when people asked where he was
going, not when Salim asked what was going on or even when Fareeda tried
to stop him. He went straight to his car and the entire ride home, his heart
didn’t stop thumping. His ears didn’t stop ringing. The elevator carriage felt

LATIFAH EFUA A.
408

tight, as though the walls were caving in, and when it stopped on the tenth
floor, he stepped out, his breaths short and a layer of sweat on his forehead.
His hands shook as he entered the passcode. He got it wrong the first time
and then got it right. He pulled the door open and stumbled in, grateful that
the foyer was brightly lit. He stumbled forward, into the living room where
Ayra sat, still in her dress with her hair flowing past her shoulders. She
stood, her brows furrowing. “Ibrahim? Ibrahim, what’s –”
He hugged her like his life depended on it as in that moment it felt as
though it did. The cold was still there, causing him to tremble a little, and in
his chest, fear was a vice that held tightly, squeezing him.
“Ibrahim? You’re scaring me.”
For the third time that night, he was moved to tears. He tightened his
embrace. “Please.” His words were hurried whispers as fear squeezed
tighter. “Please just let me hold you like this. Please.”
Over his shoulder, Ayra felt her own heart break. She reached up and
patted his back, taking the same comfort she was offering as she needed it
just as much as he did. On the accent chair she’d been occupying, her
phone screen lit up with a new message from Ibtihaj.
Ibty: We’re leaving on Wednesday o. Ryan just texted, that our visas
are ready and Collin was able to move our flights forward. Also, when
all of this is out in the open, remind me to slap that mumu Maryam
Fahad. She’s mad! Tell Ibro we’re going on Wednesday and if he tries
anyhow, he will see anyhow.
A moment later, another text came in.
Ibty: Sha, let’s tell your parents and mine on Monday. That’ll be the
best date so we can use Tuesday to pack. Our flight is on Wednesday
morning so…Please be fine, Ayra. This will be over soon In Shaa Allah.
Over Ayra’s shoulder, Ibrahim let his dam break. He buried her face in the
crook of her neck and cried, finding solace in the way she scented, fruits
and flowers coming together beautifully. Back at the Fahad mansion, the
squad was leaving in the limo, each one of them a bit shaken as Ibrahim
had never reacted that way. Never ever.

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41
The water in the tub was warm and soothing against Ayra’s skin. It was also
a mix of colours, courtesy of the bath bombs they’d put in. Behind her,
Ibrahim was really warm and as she toyed with the water and its bubbles,
she couldn’t help but smile sadly.
As had become their norm, they were doing everything she’d always wanted
but the sanctuary of it all had since been broken and she was always left
feeling the opposite of what she was supposed to feel.
Ibrahim, on the other hand, felt lighter than he’d done in days. There was
still a heaviness weighing down on him but in that moment, with Ayra’s
bare back flush against his bare chest, he found beautiful peace that he
knew better than to not appreciate. He watched as she toyed with the water
and when he couldn’t help himself, he softly kissed her exposed shoulder.
“You’re unusually quiet.” He said softly, as though he’d ruin the serenity of
the moment if he was any louder. “I didn’t get to ask earlier if you’re okay.
The security said you left because you weren’t feeling too good.”
“I didn’t like the event.” She told him, her voice as quiet as his. “Don’t get
me wrong, there was nothing wrong with it, but I didn’t feel like a part of it
all and I didn’t have it in me to stay for much longer.”
His chest squeezed a little. “You should have called me.”
Her smile stretched slightly. “I didn’t want to disturb your discussion with
Dad. Seeing how you couldn’t come up to see the room I’d been given, I
knew it had to be important so…Besides, Ibty was with me so it was
alright. I should have texted you to let you know I was leaving but it was
the last thing on my mind. Sorry.”
He wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his chin on her right
shoulder. “I should be the one apologising, Ayra. I’m sorry my family’s not
what you want them to be.”
Ayra found herself pushing tears back down before they even surfaced. She
blew out a quick breath. “It’s fine. I mean, we can’t always get what we
want so…” She let a moment pass. “Your parents don’t seem to like the
squad very much. It’s never been so obvious. It’s as though there’s a rift
between them and they don’t want to build a bridge across it.”
The minute that followed was silently long and just when Ayra thought he’d
say something to brush it under the carpet, Ibrahim surprised her with
sincerity.
“They don’t like the squad much. My parents, I mean.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
410

This time, she couldn’t hold the tears back. Her vision slowly blurred.
“Why?”
His chin still on her shoulder, Ibrahim’s vision blurred too. “As business
partners, my parents think the squad and I make a great team. As friends
though, they’re convinced I could have done better. Mum once said the
squad would only ruin me and Dad said I’ll make sacrifices that the squad
won’t appreciate until I have nothing more to give.”
Her chest twisted. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And you? Do
you feel like the squad would only ruin you and that you’ll only make
sacrifices until you have nothing more to give?”
A tear slid down Ibrahim’s cheek when he blinked. Another minute passed
before he replied, telling her the honest truth. “I don’t know anymore,
Ayra. It feels like I don’t know who I am anymore and that I’m trying to
hold onto so many things that are determined to slip through my fingers…I
don’t know anymore.”
A tear slid down her cheek and another one followed. “Sometimes, no
matter how much you love something, you have to let it go.” Just like I’m
going to have to, she completed in her head. “If it gets to the point that you no
longer feel like yourself, you can let things go. It’ll hurt but love shouldn’t
be about you sacrificing yourself for a person or for people who won’t do
the same for you. You shouldn’t have to fill shoes that don’t fit, no matter
how much you love someone or no matter how much you’ve loved them.”
Ibrahim listened to her every word, letting them engrave themselves in his
head and in his heart. Another tear sliding down his cheek, he asked “Don’t
you love them though?”
“I didn’t like how they spoke to your parents.” She replied, taking the safe
route. “It was as though I didn’t recognise them and no matter how badly
you’ve fallen out with someone, there’s something called respect especially
if they’re older. I believe people can be civil for a little while, no matter how
many indirect jabs are thrown around…The squad’s made up of people I’ve
looked up to for years and I was glad to have them as my friends but since
that dinner with Serkan and Aliana, things have been shifting and it feels
like we’re heading towards an explosion. Now you’re having mixed feelings
so…”
She shrugged. “It’s not about whether or not I love them. It’s about me
growing and realising that it’s okay to love people and still have to walk
away when I feel like I’m losing every bit of myself. That’s all.”

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It was the first time Ibrahim felt as though Ayra was the older one, and not
him. He couldn’t help but painfully wonder if they would have had such
moments where she parted with such beautiful advice had he been honest
with their love story right from the start.
“If the squad’s not sitting right with you anymore, Ibrahim, you can let
them go. I won’t tell you that it won’t be messy but you should matter to
yourself too.” She patted the back of his hand. “I have no doubt that you’ll
be fine. We all will be.”
He simply kissed her shoulder again, leaving his lips there. His emotions
swirled into one big ball in his chest and the three words he’d never really
told her sincerely pushed themselves to the tip of his tongue. However, he
didn’t feel worthy enough to say the words to her yet, not when he still had
so many tangles he had to unravel; not when he had so many things to
straighten out and understand. Not when he still had to make up for every
deceptive moment he’d taken her – Ayra – through. He pushed the words
back and said the first thing that came to mind.
“I painted you.”
Ayra told herself to not break down then and there. His sincerity when it
came without him being forced or cornered by what she’d discovered was
actually painful. “I thought you said you don’t paint?”
Ibrahim’s heart bled. “I started at some point. I learnt along the line and I
painted you. It really turned out good and it’s the first painting I’m signing
as Ibrahim Fahad.”
Ayra’s self-restraint began to snap. “And what did you want to sign as
before?”
Ibrahim shut his eyes, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “Serkan. Serkan
Fahad.”
Ayra told herself to keep breathing. “I thought the others said it shouldn’t
stick?”
Ibrahim’s heart bled even more. The truth kept spilling out. “I don’t want it
to stick anymore. It’s very impersonal and I don’t want it anymore. I just
want to be Ibrahim. I still need to learn the type of person Ibrahim Fahad
sincerely is but that’s just who I want to be.”
In that moment, all Ayra could see was herself in the living room back in
August, crying while being broken in so many ways as she realised she
didn’t know who she was outside everything that revolved around him.
Ibrahim hugged her tighter, whispering. “That’s all I want to be, Ayra.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
412

Unable to hold it back any longer, Ayra let herself cry. “Ibrahim, Ibty and I
are travelling on Wednesday. Our tickets and visas are ready and we’re
picking them up on Monday In Shaa Allah.”
Ibrahim let his emotions push him into depths, as though he was
underwater being prevented from swimming up towards the surface. He
held even tighter. “Okay.”
He told himself he’d use the time to set everything right. He could do that
much, no matter how hard it was going to hurt, for her. Ayra, he told
himself, deserved it; especially after all he’d done.
“I’ll wait for you.” He whispered against her skin. “And when you two
return, I’m going to ensure we have the best time together. I’ll ensure
what’s left of the year is even better than all that’s gone by. I’ll be better,
Ayra, I promise.”
Ayra could only cry, her head falling forward and her hands on his. There
wouldn’t be anything to enjoy, she knew that, and it hurt a lot. With how
things were going, she knew he was going to keep his promise but it was
too late. Compared to all he’d done, it was too little and it was coming way
later than it should have.
She cried, letting it all out, and he did too. When he turned her head
towards him a while later, Ayra allowed him kiss her as softly as he now did;
as though time would cease to exist and only that moment mattered.
For better, for worse, she’d whispered to herself with a giggle the night before
their wedding, until death do us part.
They were never going to get to that point anymore. Their end was already
in sight and it killed her so, so much. However, there wasn’t any more she
could do. She couldn’t stay with him, even if she ended up forgiving him.
She just couldn’t. She’d only kill herself if she did.
♣
Monday’s break of dawn met Bella pacing the length of her and Ibrahim’s
living room. She was in a romper that stopped mid-thigh and her hair was
in a messy bun. For the first time in a long while, there were slight dark
circles under her eyes and her mind was a mess. Her heart wasn’t any better.
When the clock struck 7AM, she let out a breath, pulled herself together,
and dialled Ibrahim’s line. Just as it had done since the Fahad gathering on
Saturday night, his line rang but he didn’t pick up. Scoffing, she tried again
and got the same response.

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The apartment’s landline rang after her third attempt and she angrily picked
up the receiver, snapping at whoever was on the other end of the line.
“What?!”
“Good morning, Ms Valentino.” It was the receptionist calling from the
lobby. “You asked to be alerted when Engineer or Mrs Fahad leave the
building.”
She forced out a breath, reaching up with her free hand to smoothen the
wrinkles between her brows. “Yes, I did. Has any of them left?”
“Yes ma’am. Mrs Fahad just left. Engineer Fahad came down with her but
he’s heading back up now.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I called at a bad time.”
“It’s fine.”
Without waiting for a reply, Bella put the receiver back in place, ending the
call. She switched her home slippers for sandals and then stormed out of
the apartment. The elevator took its time reaching her floor and although
the ride up was short, it felt as though it took too long.
She didn’t bother ringing the doorbell when she got to Ayra and Ibrahim’s
place. She inputted the passcode, pulled the door open, helped herself into
the apartment and let the door slam shut behind her. Ibrahim, who’d been
stepping out of the living room with his phone wedged between his ear and
his shoulder, stopped right at the division between the foyer and the living
space.
Bella glared while he calmly stared back. He put his left arm in the sleeve of
his coat and straightened, speaking to whoever was on the other end of the
line. “I’ll be there in a little bit…Sure. Bye.”
As soon as he hung up, she spoke. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He tucked the phone in his coat pocket. “Monwict. I’m having breakfast
with my parents.”
She raised a brow. “Breakfast with your parents.”
He nodded, once. “Yes.”
“Since when did you start doing that? Last time I checked, we were all on
the same page when it came to them.”
Ibrahim told himself to stay as calm as he’d been all morning. He exhaled
softly. “Bella –”

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She took a step forward, crossing her arms. “I’ve called you over a hundred
times since Saturday night.”
“I know.”
“Oh wow.” Her laugh was dry. “Wow, Serkan, wow.”
He nearly flinched, catching himself last minute. She didn’t notice as she
went on. “Shouldn’t you be apologising? You act weird and scare us on
Saturday and then you flee. Instead of you to let us know what’s going on
or assure us that you’re good, you ghost each and every one of us. You are
supposed to be apologising, Serkan, not telling me that you’re aware of the
fact that I called you over a hundred times between that night and this
morning.”
“I didn’t want to talk to you.” He admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to talk to
any of you.”
She hadn’t been expecting him to say that and it showed in how taken
aback she was. It took her a near minute to regain most of her composure.
“I’m sorry… What did you say?”
Ibrahim sighed. “Bella –”
She took another step forward. “I was worried sick and so were Anneth,
Jalal, Tobi, and Nate. And you’re telling me to my face that you didn’t want
to talk to me or to the others?”
For a moment, he nearly took the easy way out; nearly pushed away the
confrontation just so he didn’t have to deal with it, just like he’d been doing
with all their recent issues. However, he didn’t, reminding himself that if he
wanted to make things right for Ayra, he had to face every issue head on.
Putting his hands in the pockets of his coat and exhaling, he nodded and
held her gaze with his. “Yes, Bella, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I didn’t
want to talk to you or the others whether or not you all were worried about
me.”
She was caught off-guard again and Bella had to open her mouth and close
it back twice before finding her voice. “Ibrahim!”
“Bella –”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She took yet another step towards him.
“Are you sick? Did you hit your head on something? Did Ayra do
something?”
“Stop it.”

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“No, you stop it. We all went for your family dinner, endured the shit your
parents kept tossing our way, and went through the aftermath of it without
you by the pool. When you finally grace us with your presence, we provide
solutions to all our problems and you panic, scaring all of us before you
leave and now you’re –”
“That’s the problem.” He told her. “The so called solutions are the
problem.”
Her brows furrowed. “Ibrahim, what the hell are you talking about? How
are they the problem? From the first day we met, you’ve had issues with
your parents. They tried to control your life to the extent that you ran away
to Leicester and then you met me and you were happy. They couldn’t
accept that so they rejected our relationship time and time again, to the
extent that we had to get you married to Ayra just so you could still be with
me. Even now, they’re not content and they’re telling you to break up with
me, all for Ayra, and we’re telling you that the best course of action would
be to cut them off and then get divorced from Ayra and you’re saying the
solutions we’re offering are the problem?!”
Ibrahim stared at her in two ways; as though she was someone he’d known
so well all his life yet didn’t know at all and as though she was a stranger he
was meeting for the first time. In his chest, his chest was falling back into
the hole it’d been trying to pull itself out from.
“Answer me, Serkan!”
He went on to echo the words that stuck with him from all that she’d said.
“I met you and I was happy…I got married to Ayra so I could still be with
you?”
“Ibrahim, for God’s sake –”
“I thought it was always ‘we’, Bella. Has that changed? Did it even exist?”
Bella blinked and blinked again. She then let out a small laugh. “Non essere
assurdo (Don’t be absurd). You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” He asked, feeling a bit of the chill he’d felt on Saturday night. “Do
I know what you mean?”
“Ibrahim –”
“If we even have to return to the main issue at hand, how was it so easy for
you all to tell me to cut my parents off and then divorce Ayra? Does that
seem like a walk in the park to you? Is that a piece of cake to you?”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
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Bella didn’t look as confident as she usually did. She kept her arms crossed
though. “Ibrahim, don’t pretend as though you love your parents now.
Seeing how you’ve always wanted to get away from them, yes this seems
like a walk in the park. Cutting them off should be a piece of cake and since
Ayra’s always been a pawn in our game, divorcing her should be same.”
“Isabella!”
“What?!” She screamed. “It’s the truth and you know it! We all know it!
You don’t love your family neither do you love Ayra so stop being
stubborn and stop trying to have your cake and eat it, Ibrahim. Besides, if
there’s someone who’s sacrificed enough for the both of us, it’s me and you
can’t deny it.”
He couldn’t stop the scoff that slipped past his lips while his chest twisted,
his emotions one big ball. His voice was low when he asked “You’re the
one who’s sacrificed enough for the both of us?”
“Yes, Ibrahim, I am. You know it.”
“Bella.” The memories were a dam. “Bella, I’ve done a lot for you, even
when it went against every single thing I believed in and held dear. The
biggest sacrifice you’ve made is choosing to let another woman take the title
of Mrs Ibrahim Fahad and even then, I was still sacrificing enough for you.
Even then, if you hadn’t pushed forward for the idea using my love for you
as a weapon, we wouldn’t be here.”
“So it’s my fault, is that it?”
“Have you always been like this?”
She looked as though he’d slapped her. “Excuse me?!”
The chill intensified and his chest twisted even more the longer he stared at
her. She stared right back with eyes he couldn’t bring himself to recognise;
with emotions he felt he’d always read wrong.
“Ibrahim –”
“Would you do the same if our roles were changed?”
She frowned again. “Do what?”
“If our roles were reversed and I told you to marry someone who loved you
the way we found out Ayra loved me, would you have done it? If I told you
that I’d be content just being the other man as long as you didn’t pay him
any attention than what was necessary, would you have done it?” He could
barely breathe but he kept going. “And if things got complicated, if I told

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you to cut your parents off and then divorce your husband, would you do
both? Would you do it all, Bella? I need you to be honest with me.”
Silence. Silence was all he got from her and he felt himself breaking in a way
that was different from the ways he’d broken in recent times. He swallowed
thickly, telling himself to not cry.
Bella unfolded her arms, her hands falling back to her sides as tight fists.
“Ibrahim –”
“Yes or no, Bella.” The pain was so raw and it hurt excruciatingly. “Would
you do it all?”
A tense moment passed before she replied, her words knifes that were
expertly aimed at his heart. “Our roles aren’t reversed, Ibrahim, so I can’t
give you the answer you’re asking for.”
The walls of the mental gallery he had that held their memories cracked and
one by one, they came down and all the years they’d been together flashed
in his head like a fast-forwarded film; him pinning after her until he
gathered the courage to engage her in their first conversation when they
were grouped together for an assignment, their first dates and him doing
everything possible to ensure it always came out perfectly, asking her to be
his girlfriend over and over until she agreed, the parties he gradually got
used although he hated them at first, all the dates they had, the trips they
went on and the lists they drew up of places they wanted to visit, the
decision to call each other Serkan and Sevgilim while in Turkey, his parents’
constant rejections, their break-ups and reunions, him always putting
everything aside just because she wanted something or she wanted to go
somewhere, their drunken plan to get him married to someone else,
marrying Ayra yet letting her – Bella – go through the events (behind the
scenes, of course) as though she was the bride and Ayra wasn’t, every
moment he left Ayra just to go to wherever she was even on the first night
of his marriage to Ayra, being unable to see Ayra for who she was until
recently because all he could ever see was Bella, the way the tides had
started to turn yet he stayed loyal, and then the domino effect that had been
in motion for a while, heightened by all that had happened on Saturday at
his parents’ place.
The chill became worse and Ibrahim unconsciously hugged himself,
whispering. “Please leave.”
Bella took a step forward, reaching out for him. “Serkan –”
He stepped back, nearly tripping. “I need you to leave, Isabella. I don’t
want to hear anything, just please…Please leave.”

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Bella, for the first time in a short while, looked hurt. “Ibrahim, don’t do
this.”
He didn’t want to listen. He hugged himself tighter. “Please leave, Bella. I
don’t want to drag you out.”
“Serkan, come on. You can’t be doing this.”
“Bella –”
“If I leave, we’re going to have a big problem and this is going to be worse
than every other time we’ve broken up. I won’t let you off the hook that
easily.”
It was scary for Ibrahim to realise he didn’t care. She was not joking, he
knew that, but he didn’t feel anything except pain and every other
synonymous emotion that made him a castle with walls that were crumbling
down. Bella, when she saw he wasn’t going to budge, paled slightly. Her
eyes went a little wide. “Ibrahim –”
“Leave.” His voice was cold; way colder than it’d ever been. “Ti sto
implorando (I’m begging you).”
The moment that followed stretched for what seemed like eternity before
her expression frosted over and she straightened, her hands back to being
fists at her side. She gave him a small smile that did nothing but worsen his
chill. “You’re going to regret, Ibrahim. I promise.”
“I know.” He told her. “I’m to regret everything. I’m already doing so and
it’s clear that it’s only going to worsen from here on.”
“Vaffanculo (Fuck you).” She spat out.
He said nothing, having no words to say in reply. Another moment passed
before she turned around and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the
door shut with so much force that he was sure the hinges rattled. Allowing
himself tremble slightly, Ibrahim stumbled forward and went on to change
the passcode, using the first date that came to mind; 2612, his and Ayra’s
wedding date.
His hands shaking, he texted Ayra, telling her he’d changed the passcode.
He knew better than to say why. The text delivered but it wasn’t read and
he put his phone to sleep when a minute passed. He squatted there on the
corridor, not caring if anyone saw him or not, and focused on breathing in
and out. He didn’t know how long it took but eventually the trembling
stopped and the constriction in his chest eased up.

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He only forced himself to stand when he felt as strong as he’d done as at
the time he walked Ayra down to the parking lot. Although it was tempting
to go in and stay inside the confines of the apartment, he forced himself to
turn and walk towards the elevators.
He had breakfast with his parents after all.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
420

42
Salama opened the door and laughed at the expression on her friend’s face.
Falilat, who was breathing heavily, waved a hand and stepped into the
Abdulaziz home.
“My dear!” She told Salama between breaths. “I don dey old o. Common
from my house here, see how I’m breathing. Olorun mi o.”
Salama ensured no one else was outside before closing the door and
following Falilat. “Well done, my dear.”
“Thank you o.”
“Where’s Al-Amin?”
“Oh, he got called into work so he had to go.” Falilat peeped into the main
living room. “They also called Muhsin, abi?”
“Yep.”
“Hian, where are these girls?”
Salama, looking so much like her daughter, did not stop smiling. “They’re in
the second living room. You know they prefer that one.”
Falilat straightened and walked on. “That’s true. That Ibty sef! I will kill her.
I told her to wait for me. Yeye girl.”
Salama could only shake her head, her smile fond. They reached the second
living room in no time and Salama watched, laughing alongside Ayra, as
Falilat and Ibtihaj ran around like cat and rat until Falilat was able to slap
Ibtihaj’s back before turning to Ayra and being dramatic about not having
seen her in a while.
Ayra laughed, her head thrown back as Falilat held her. “We saw each other
before you and Uncle Al-Amin travelled.”
“Ehen? Weeks have passed since then so it’s the same as me not seeing you
in a while.”
Ayra laughed again, nodding. “I understand, Aunt Falilat. I missed you.”
She hugged the other woman. “I missed you a lot.”
“I have missed you a lot too, my dear. Abeg tell Ibty to do and bring this so
called Adil home. I want to be sure that this man is not fictional.”
Ibtihaj stared at her mother in disbelief. “Mummy, I swear to God –”
Falilat waved her daughter away, causing Ayra and Salama to laugh again.
“Tah, commot there!”

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Ibtihaj pursed her lips. “It’s not your fault, Mummy. It’s not your fault at
all.”
Five minutes later, they were seated on two sofas; Salama and Falilat on a
loveseat and Ibtihaj and Ayra on the three seater. On the coffee table, a jug
of cold orange juice sat on a tray and they each held a cup, some fuller than
the others.
“So,” Salama asked her daughter. “Do you now want to say why you’re here
this early?”
Ayra smiled, her eyes alight with playfulness. “I thought you said I’m always
welcome here, Ummi.”
“I did, but first thing on a Monday morning?” Salama cocked her head, just
as playfully. “Come on, Leilani. There’s definitely more to it.”
Ayra’s laugh was beautiful. She nodded. “You’re right, there’s more to it
and I’ll get to it shortly.” She sighed. “I wish Baba and Uncle Al-Amin were
here though.”
“We’re going to definitely pass on the message to them.” Falilat said before
Salama could. She then leaned forward, her curiosity as clear as day. “Is it
baby news?”
Ayra – although her heart shattered – acted as though she’d heard the most
absurd thing. “Aunt Falilat, no! It’s not baby news.”
Falilat nodded, leaning back in her seat. “I said let me ask o so that
suspense will not kill me. Don’t mind me, my dear.”
Ibtihaj spoke playfully. “Na there dem dey find you.”
Falilat glared. “Ibty, it’s swear I will –”
Salama cut in then. “Let’s not fight.” She smiled when mother and daughter
eyed each other before looking away. She then turned to her own daughter.
“Like Falilat said, Leilani, we’re definitely going to pass on the message to
them so feel free to say what you want to say. We’ll listen and we’ll advice
you as much as we can. Muhsin and Al-Amin would offer theirs once we
tell them what’s going on.”
Ayra nodded, her smile a near ghost on her face. “Okay.”
“I hope all is well though?” Salama asked, having no idea why she felt a
sudden pang of nervousness and slight dread. “There’s nothing wrong,
right?”
Ayra reminded herself that she was strong although she felt nothing of the
sort. She turned to look at Ibtihaj who gave her a small nod, smiling

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reassuringly. When Ayra brought herself to turn back to both their mothers,
she found that their smiles were gone and their apprehensive looks were no
good to her broken heart that never really got to heal even for a bit before
it got broken again.
Salama found herself reaching for Falilat’s hand. She held on tight.
“Leilani…?”
Although it wasn’t what she’d planned to do, Ayra dropped the biggest
piece of news first. “In Shaa Allah, before the year runs out, I’ll be
divorcing Ibrahim. It’s a decision I’ve reached and one I won’t change my
mind on.”
If a pin had dropped in the silence that followed, it would have echoed
around the space. Ibtihaj simply exhaled, her shoulders dropping. Falilat
and Salama, on the other hand, looked as though they’d seen the dead come
back to life. It didn’t matter that they were both different shades – one
darker than the other; they were both pale, the blood drained from their
faces.
Falilat was the first to open her mouth and her voice was a little shrill.
“Ehn!?”
It took Ayra everything to stay sitting up straight, her hands together on her
laps as she’d put down her glass of juice. “There’s a lot I haven’t told you
both and while I’m sorry it’s going to hurt, I’m not sorry that I chose to
keep it to myself. I’ve been trying to find a footing and sort through the
tangled web I was pulled into. I would have loved to tell you all of it on a
later date but I plan to travel the day after tomorrow In Shaa Allah and I
don’t want to keep that from you. I also can’t just show up and tell you I’m
travelling without telling you where I’m going to or why I have to leave.”
Falilat spoke again. “Olorun mi! Ayra, what are you saying?”
Salama, still too pale, found her voice. “Ayra…?” Her eyes began to glass
over. “Leilani, what on earth are you saying?”
“She’s divorcing Ibrahim before the year runs out.” Ibtihaj replied before
Ayra could. “And we’re travelling next tomorrow In Shaa Allah.”
With wide eyes, Falilat whipped her head in her daughter’s direction. “You
knew?!”
Ibtihaj nodded, her expression solemn. “I did. I found out that night Ayra
came over. The same night you and Daddy travelled.”
Salama felt her chest slice open and it hurt more than anything.
“Leilani…That evening, you were pretending?”

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Ayra’s resolve cracked and her tears were impossible to hold back. “I’m
sorry.”
Falilat let go of her friend’s hands and put her hands on her head. “Ah!”
Salama shook her head, unable to understand what was going on. “Leilani,
what’s…?” Her voice broke and a tear slipped. “Why? Has Ibrahim not
been providing for you?”
Ayra shook her head. “He has.” He never failed in that regard. “He’s never
stopped providing, Ummi. He’s provided everything.”
“Was he disrespectful or even abusive?” Falilat asked. “Did he raise his
hand against you?”
Ayra shook her head, her resolve snapping further. A tear slid down her
cheek when she blinked. “No, he didn’t.”
“Then why?” Salama asked. “Why?”
“Did he cheat?” Falilat asked.
When Ayra stayed quiet, Salama broke like an antique vase falling from an
upper level to the ground down below. She brought her hands to her
mouth to hold back the pained sound that threatened to slip past her lips.
Beside her, Falilat did the exact opposite. She screamed. “Ah!”
“Our entire marriage was a ruse.” Ayra said with a calmness that came from
a place she couldn’t point towards. “Everything was done in accordance
with our religion and in line with tradition but…The intentions on his end
were wrong. They’ve been wrong until recently but the damage has already
been done.”
Salama couldn’t move, even by an inch. Falilat had her jaw still on the
ground. Ibtihaj was simply sad but calm. Ayra pushed herself forward, to
keep going. “Ibrahim has been in a relationship with Bella for over a
decade. My marriage to him was to be a cover, to hide the fact that they
were still together as his parents never gave their blessings no matter how
many times Ibrahim and Bella sought it.”
Salama choked on a sob. Falilat’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Bella?!
Isabella Valentino?!”
Ibtihaj was the one who nodded. “Yes, Mummy. Isabella Mariá Valentino.”
“Mogbé o! Ah! It is finished!”
The particular memory that felt like tiny daggers digging into Salama’s flesh
was that of her opening the front door for the first time for the Hexad
squad; how Jalal had charmed her with his smile and him saying he was her

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biggest fan before Anneth pushed him away with a smile of hers, and then
how she – Salama – had stepped aside, welcoming them into her home.
How she’d welcomed them into her home time and time again, convinced
that Ayra had found the best group to be a part of.
“I found out about it since August and since then, I’ve been unravelling the
lies they built.” Ayra continued. “I’m still doing that and that’s why Ibty and
I have to travel because the final puzzle pieces aren’t here and I can’t leave
if I don’t know at least ninety-eight percent of all that led to this. Ibrahim
and the others don’t know that I’m aware of all that’s going on and I know
you may want to confront them but please, let it stay between us for just a
little longer…I’m sorry, because I know this is something you would have
never seen coming, but please trust me, Ummi and Aunt Falilat. It will hurt
for a long time but I’ll be fine. In Shaa Allah it’ll all be fine.”
Her hands still on her head, Falilat slid to the floor and let out a strangled
sound as tears welled in her eyes. Salama finally moved then. She pulled her
hands away from her mouth, buried her face in them, and cried like she’d
never done before.
Where they sat, Ibtihaj took her best friend’s hand and held tightly.
Together, with both their hearts bleeding, they watched their mothers break
just like they’d done over and over again.
♣
The Fahads ate breakfast by the pool and although it had been a majorly
quiet affair, Ibrahim was glad it didn’t go southwards at any point. When
their used dishes and cups were taken away and they were served sliced
fruits in expensive flat plates, Salim cleared his throat. “To what do we owe
this honour, Ibrahim?”
Fareeda shot her husband a dirty look. “Salim.”
“What?” He asked, the word coming out as a near whine. “It’s unlike us to
have a meal together civilly. The ones we’ve had were with people present
and not just us.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t start now.”
Salim scoffed, picking up his fork. “When we haven’t sorted out everything
between us? Oh please.”
“Salim, for God’s sake –”
“It’s fine.” Ibrahim stated, cutting into their exchange. He managed a small
smile when they both faced him. “I didn’t come here to just eat. Like Dad
said, we haven’t sorted everything between us so…”

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Salim raised a brow at Fareeda and she did the first thing that came to her
mind; she flipped him off. Ibrahim, who’d never really paid any attention to
their exchanges over the years, found himself holding back a small laugh
and wondering if he and Ayra would have such exchange in the years to
come as they grew older. He hoped – sincerely – that they did.
“So, Ibrahim.” Fareeda began. “Before we go into why you’re actually here,
how are you?”
“Don’t act like you actually care.” He used to say back when she called and
asked how he was doing. “We both know you don’t give an honest shit. We also
know you’re nothing close to a real mother so stop acting like one. It doesn’t suit you. It
never will.”
“I’ve had better days.” He replied honestly. His small smile returned. “But
I’ll be fine.”
Fareeda smiled back, reaching across the table to pat the back of his hand.
“You will be. I’m sure of it.”
Having no words, Ibrahim simply continued smiling. With her smile still
on, Fareeda patted the back of his hand again before pulling her hand back.
Salim cleared his throat once more. “So…What are we talking about?”
A few moments passed before Ibrahim brought himself to ask “Why did
you always say Bella and I weren’t good together? I know it might seem as
though I’m asking you to repeat yourselves when you’ve done just that over
and over again but this is first time I’m willing to listen to what you have to
say so…”
A quiet minute passed before Salim sighed, lowering his fork. He leaned
back in his chair, bringing his hands together. “Did you end things with
Bella?”
“No.” Ibrahim replied, without any hesitation. “Not yet at least. But it isn’t
something I can put off for much longer.”
“Is it because of Ayra?” Fareeda asked. When Ibrahim nodded, she pressed
further. “Because we asked that you don’t walk down the same road your
father and I took or because of something else?”
Ibrahim considered it for a moment even though he knew the clear answer.
“Ayra deserves better than I’ve put her through in the time we’ve known
each other so…I want to make things right, at least to the best of my
ability. And like you two said, I shouldn’t put someone through what you
went through, Mum, and I shouldn’t be like you, Dad.”

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426

Fareeda’s expression had softened. Salim’s had too but it was less obvious.
He regarded his son for a near minute before he opened his mouth. “You
love her. Ayra, I mean.”
Ibrahim nodded slowly. “I’m headed in that direction but yes.”
Fareeda teared up. “Oh, Ibrahim.”
Salim glared at her. “Don’t even start.”
She waved him away. “Buzz off.” She then smiled so beautifully at her son.
“Oh Ibrahim.”
Ibrahim’s small smiled returned while a bit of his heart warmed. Salim then
blew out a long breath. “The day you brought Bella home for the first time,
it was quite clear that both of you were a bad combination. When you
threw in the rest of the so called squad, it was a bomb that was slowly
ticking towards explosion.”
Ibrahim knew he wasn’t completely following but he let his father go on.
Salim stared at his hands for a moment before raising his head, his eyes
meeting Ibrahim’s.
“Like everyone else thinks, Bella is a beautiful woman. She’s also smart,
socially prim and proper, and she’s from a long line of wealth. However,
there’s very little love between you two and most of it came from you.
You’ve always been ready to worship the ground she walked on, Ibrahim,
but while you and the others couldn’t see it, it was clear she wasn’t going to
do the same for you. Each time you six came over, it became clearer and
clearer that you held them dearer than they did and while we weren’t the
best parents as we tried to control your life, they were people who thought
they knew what was best for you. I’m sure they still think they know what’s
best for you.”
Ibrahim had to look away, choosing to focus on the plate of untouched
fruit slices in front of him.
“Maybe at some point, you did love Bella.” Salim continued. “But as at the
time you brought her home, and each time you did so, the love you thought
you felt was more of an infatuated loyalty. It was as though you loved the
idea of someone like Isabella Valentino being with you, especially for that
long, rather than loving the woman herself. For Bella, it’s always seemed as
though she loved the idea of having you; a man who’d be ready to do
anything for her. I’ve never believed she loved you sincerely as a person. I
still don’t. Each time you asked why your mother and I why we wouldn’t
give our blessings, I wanted to tell you all of this.”

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Salim smiled sadly then. “But we’ve never been able to hold a calm
conversation and it’s hard to say much when we’re both shouting and
reopening old wounds and calling each other names.” He then sighed. “We
really have a lot to sort out.”
Ibrahim raised his head a few heartbeats later. “Then why did everyone else
like her? From the first time I brought her home, my aunts, uncles, and
cousins loved her and said we fit perfectly. Why?”
Fareeda was the one who replied. “You’re both an aesthetically pleasing
couple. Like your father has said, Bella’s a beautiful woman and she’s
everything a typical Fahad is, including the pride and arrogance that we all
try to deny.”
She smiled when her words cracked a little smile out of him. She then
continued “Both of you together are a dreamlike couple and it’s easy to
accept the idea of having someone like Bella in the family, especially when
everyone else thinks they read us better than we can read ourselves. That’s
the only explanation we could come up with. Trust me, Ibrahim, only a few
people among those who accepted the both of you actually know you and
Bella beyond superficial level and if things had actually gone the way you
two wanted and you ended up having issues, those same people would have
been the first to flee.”
“The bottom line is,” Salim stated. “You don’t love Bella as much as you
think you do. You’re more infatuated with the idea of you two being
together and you’re loyal to a fault, Ibrahim. That’s why you stayed with her
as much as you did and that’s why you went ahead to pull yourself out of
your comfort zone time and time again to please her and eventually please
what is now known worldwide as the squad.”
Ibrahim’s stomach did a little drop. “Dad –”
Salim nodded. “Yes, Ibrahim, we know about the grades that dropped at
one small point. We know about the parties and the drugs. We know about
the fights that would have escalated had you and Nathaniel not been the
sober ones. We know about the trips and we know about the times you
always nearly got a tattoo. We know it all. We just turned a blind eye to it,
hoping that you’ll come to your senses…We’ve been bad parents, we’re
learning and accepting that time and time again, and like you’re making an
attempt to make things right with Ayra, we need to also make an attempt to
make things right. We can’t do it all in one day but we can surely start from
somewhere.” He faced Fareeda. “Right?”
She nodded, smiling warmly at him. “Right.”

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Ibrahim looked from one person to the other, the urge to cry returning.
Another mental gallery of memories began to crack and crumble and this
time, the memories weren’t nice. He blinked back the tears as they surfaced,
his hands gripping the fabric of his baggy distressed jeans.
“You weren’t nice parents.” He said quietly, barely pushing back the
memories he had of them screaming and memories of plates being broken
before doors were slammed shut. “You weren’t a good couple too.” He
held the fabric a little tighter. “And I didn’t get a chance to properly grow
up, not when you had goals laid out for me that I had to achieve while you
two tried to balance working out your fragile relationship and the personal
aspirations you had.”
Fareeda was moved to tears again, pain etched on her face. Underneath the
table, she was gripping the floral fabric of her dress just as tightly as
Ibrahim did with his jeans. Salim lowered his head, filled with a mixture of
regret, shame, and pain.
Ibrahim continued, mentally reliving even more memories of shouting, near
fist fights between him and his father, Fareeda always getting into the
middle when things got heated, insults being exchanged, and then the
memory of a sixteen year old him screaming at Fareeda “I wish I was a still-
born so you wouldn’t have been able to put me through this hell!”
“I hated this house so, so much that I always wanted to leave and university
gave me that chance so I went all the way to England because I knew you
didn’t like it much so there were only going to be a few visits from you two.
At some point, my aunts and uncles were more of parents to me than you
two were. That’s how bad things got.”
Fareeda reached up to quickly wipe away her tears with her hands while
Salim kept his head lowered, blinking his own tears back.
“I didn’t think I was going to enjoy Software Engineering but I did and
when I met Bella and the others, I had a first shot at being valued as part of
a community. I felt happy and I never wanted to let go of that so even
when I was uncomfortable with a setting or a particular plan, I went ahead
with it because it made them happy and their happiness made me happy.
I’ve always been proud of who we were as a squad and the things we’ve
done together but that’s changing now and it’s been the hardest thing, Mum
and Dad.” His voice broke, courtesy of a sob. “You have no idea how hard
it’s been for me since August when Ayra began to mean more to me than I
ever thought would be possible.”
Fareeda had to bring a hand to her mouth, her words muffled when she
spoke. “We’re so sorry, Ibrahim. You have no idea how sorry we are.”

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“Each time I brought Bella and the squad home and you rejected them
without fail, I used to hate you two so, so much. That’s why I always lashed
out. That’s why I always spoke the way I did and why I said the things I did.
I couldn’t understand why you two were so stubborn when I’d never really
asked for something as much as I asked for you two to accept Bella and me,
and also my friendship with the squad. Back then, that was all I wanted, but
you two weren’t yielding and I did think about cutting you two off for good
time and time again but it was funny how I never came around to actually
doing it, the same way I never got around getting a tattoo each time I went
with the others to a tattoo parlour. I’m regretting a lot of things now,
especially all we said and did, but you two need to understand that you
weren’t the best role models. You weren’t that at all. If things had been
good at home, maybe things would have turned out differently and we
wouldn’t be here. At least things wouldn’t be this bad.”
Salim bit down on his lower lip while Fareeda kept crying, her head
lowered.
“The decision to marry Ayra was because we thought it’d be better to have
someone you two would approve of as my wife while Bella and I continued
our relationship with you two being in ignorant bliss. I didn’t come up with
the idea but I didn’t put my foot down on it not going through. I admit that
then it seemed fool-proof and it seemed as though we’d be able to keep up
with the ruse until the end of time without caring about the consequences. I
also wanted Bella to be happy and if that was what she wanted, I was ready
to go through with it. It never crossed my mind that I was doing the same
thing you did, Dad, not until Mum pointed out to me on Saturday.”
Salim began to cry then, a fist at his mouth to keep himself quiet.
Ibrahim let his own tears flow freely. “Things got complicated for me along
the line, Mum and Dad, and the ruse was no longer easy to keep up with
and I thought I could balance it out but it’s proven to be impossible,
especially with me wanting more of what I have with Ayra and less of what
I’ve had with Bella and the others. Then Saturday’s party made things really
clear, especially when the squad asked that I legally disown you two and
then get started on divorcing Ayra just so I could properly and publicly be
with Bella.”
That had Salim and Fareeda raising their heads, glassy eyes wide and shock
on both their faces.
“I’m not going to go through with it.” Ibrahim told them. “I swear I won’t.
It was just a clarifying moment and everything that’s happened since then
has made everything even more clearer to me. Ayra deserves better and I’m

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going to do all I can to ensure that happens. You always told me I was
going to sacrifice so much for the squad and that they won’t sacrifice that
much for me in return, Dad. I’m sorry I didn’t listen then. I’m definitely
listening now, no matter how late it is.”
Salim shook his head. “No, Ibrahim, no…”
“I’m going to sort things out. I can’t say to you two or to myself that it’s
going to be a smooth ride because I know for a fact that things can go
wrong in so many ways but…”
He forced out a breath. “But I want to try. I want to know who I really am
and what it is I have to sincerely offer. I want to also be the best person
possible for Ayra…And I want to have my family too, with both of you. I
want us to have meals where we can talk and not eat with silence that can
put that of a graveyard to shame. I want to be able to come home and tell
you that I’m having an issue and have you part with advice that’ll actually
help. I want to do everything that parents do with their children, no matter
how old they are, so I can be a role model to my kids; the kind of role
model I wish you two had been. That’s all I want, Mum and Dad. That’s all
I’m asking for.”
Fareeda pushed her chair back and stood. She walked around the table and
hugged Ibrahim to her, holding him as tightly as she could. “I’m so sorry,
Ibrahim. We’re so, so sorry.”
In his chair, Salim cried harder, his shoulders shaking from his heavy sobs.
All the way in Plum Boulevard, Salama sat on the rug, holding Ayra tightly
against her; both of them crying. Beside them, Ibtihaj held her mother close
as Falilat sobbed. In Downtown Aomi, Bella’s room in hers and Ibrahim’s
home was a mess. With a scream, she pulled at her hair, frustrated and
overflowing with rage that she could no longer contain.

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43
The East Midlands Airport was cold.
As she and Ibtihaj claimed their luggage, Ayra hoped the weather did not
get colder until the both of them returned to Atlantica. She wasn’t sure
she’d be able to take it despite her having packed enough essentials just in
case it got really cold.
Ibtihaj checked her phone, reading the text she’d received. “Adil said
they’re outside.”
“He didn’t come alone?”
Ibtihaj shook her head, putting her phone to sleep. “No. He said he’s with
his cousin, Ayman.”
“Remind me how you got him to pick us up and actually drive us all the
way to Leicester.”
Ibtihaj smiled proudly. “When a man wants to do anything for you, you
cannot say no. Oga insisted, saying that he and Ayman actually had stuff to
do in Leicester tomorrow and next. You know I like free thing.”
“Oh Ibty.”
“I love you too. Oya, let’s go!”
Halfway to the exit of the terminal, Ibtihaj felt the urge to pee and while
searching for the restroom, Ayra decided she’d grab a to-go cup of coffee
from one of the cafes and wait until Ibtihaj returned. Both of them ditched
their boxes with a friendly female security officer and went their separate
ways.
Apart from a few people who sipped their coffees and munched on their
chosen pastries, the café was sparsely filled. Ayra, with the heaviness in her
chest that she’d carried all the way from Aomi, took in a breath and blew it
out before walking to the counter where three baristas busied themselves
with one thing or the other.
One of the two females among them perked up when Ayra stopped on the
other side of the counter. The barista smiled. “Hello. What can I get for
you?”
Ayra quickly scanned their menu. “A mocha, please, with extra hot
chocolate. I’ll have one to go.”
The barista nodded. “Will you be having anything to go with it?”

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Ayra glanced through the display case that held pastries in different sizes
and colours. She nodded a moment later. “I think I’ll take muffins.” She
raised her head. “They’re blueberry muffins, right?”
The barista’s smile was dazzling. “Right. Fresh from the oven as the first
batch sold out earlier than planned.”
That got a small smile out of Ayra. “I’ll have them. Three please.”
“Alright. One mocha with extra hot chocolate and muffins coming right
up.”
Feeling a little guilty at the thought of getting something for just herself,
Ayra added “And one cappuccino for my best friend. She’ll be here in a bit.
Sorry. Three muffins for her too.”
The barista shook her head. “No worries. Also to go?”
Ayra nodded. “Yes, also to go.”
“You wanna take a seat while I get your orders?”
Ayra shook her head. “No, I’ll just wait here. I’ve been sitting on the plane
for hours.”
An understanding smile appeared on the barista’s face. “Alright then.”
The barista got to work and Ayra watched. It wasn’t long before the space
beside her was occupied and although she was tempted to turn her head to
see who it was, Ayra forced herself to keep her eyes on the barista attending
to her while the other female barista turned to the new customer, a nice
smile on her face as she asked what the customer wanted.
“A mocha, please.” The voice was deep and velvety, each word beautifully
pronounced with a hint of an accent that blended in with the British
intonation. “I think I’d have that instead of an affogato. I’ve had enough
sugar today.”
Ayra felt goosebumps break out on her arms and she knew it had nothing
to do with the chill of the airport. Whoever the man beside her was, he
spoke so beautifully and there was a part of her that actually hoped he’d say
something else.
“The classic mocha or you’d like an extra of something?” The barista asked.
“Drinking here or to go?”
Through her peripheral vision, Ayra saw him reach into the coat he wore
and pull out a sleek black wallet. He was tall, that much she could tell.
“Extra milk and hot chocolate. To go, please.”

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Her own barista walked back to the counter, two to go cups in her hands.
She smiled at Ayra. “One mocha with extra hot chocolate and one
cappuccino. I’ll get your muffins.”
Ayra shot her a small smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
As she walked away, Ayra opened her sling bag and reached in for her
wallet. As she pulled it out, it hit the strap of the bag and slipped through
her fingers, hitting the ground a moment later with a soft thud, a few inches
away from the next customer’s feet; the same man who spoke with
beautiful eloquence.
Ayra sighed and squatted, picking it up. His shoes got her attention and she
shouldn’t have smiled but the fact that he wore crocs – midnight black in
colour – made her do just that. The shoes looked really good on him and
she got a glimpse of initials on the side of his right shoe; A.H.B. Telling
herself they were probably customised, Ayra moved to push herself back up
when something caught her attention, causing her to freeze in place. In a
hole on each croc was the jibbitz of a flower she’d recognise anywhere; a
flower she’d been named after.
“Are you okay?”
Startled, Ayra raised her head and the first thing she took note of was his
eyes; hazel green and bright, framed with long, full lashes. Her chest
squeezed and she forced herself to look away, back to his shoes. She stared
at the jibbitz for a moment longer before she stood, blowing out a small
breath before putting a small smile on her face, aiming it at him.
Getting a proper look at him now that she was standing, Ayra realised two
things. One, he was tall; way taller than the men she’d known all her life.
Two, just like his manner of speech, he was beautiful in a soft, humble way.
Ayra forced herself to not stare for too long although that same part of her
that wanted to listen to him speak wanted to do just that. She focused on
giving him a reply to his earlier question.
She nodded, pointing towards his shoes. “I am. I was just taken aback by
the flowers.” She brought her line of sight back to his face, her chest
squeezing again as she watched them look down at both crocs. “I don’t
mean that in a bad way; please do not get me wrong.”
He stared at his shoes for a moment longer before he raised his head, his
expression calm. “You recognise the flower?”

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Ayra realised then that she was a little nervous. She nodded, holding his
gaze with hers; hazel green meeting hazel brown. “A Hawaiian Leilani.
Right?”
It was subtle but she noticed the slight cocking of one his brows. He smiled
a little too and she caught the surprise that flickered in his eyes before
astonishment followed. He nodded, slowly. “Right…Are you a florist? Not
a lot of people around here recognise it.”
She found herself smiling like him; a small smile that barely became evident
on her face but had her feeling a slice of warmth inside. She shook her
head. “I’m not a florist.” She glanced at the crocs again. “It’s my mother’s
favourite flower.”
This time, his brow clearly shot up and his astonishment doubled. “Are you
serious?”
Ayra nodded, her smile stretching a bit on its own accord. “I am.”
“Well, as crazy as it may seem, it’s my mother’s favourite too.” He smiled
fondly, a little colour staining his cheeks as he looked down at his feet once
again. “It’s her current favourite actually. She changes favourites with each
season and I love her too much to not indulge. Also,” He brought his head
back up. “It’s a beautiful flower and the jibbitz creator nailed it.”
She nodded, nearly laughing. “He or she did.” She looked at the flower
again, her smile nearly as fond as his had been. “It’s been my mother’s
favourite for years, to the extent that she named me after it. It automatically
became my favourite.”
When she raised her head, she found him staring at her with every emotion
that was synonymous to astonishment and surprise. “Are you serious?”
She nodded once again, warmth creeping up the back of her neck and going
to her cheeks. “I am. It’s not my first name but it’s my name all the same.”
“Wow…I’m so telling Mama I ran into someone named Leilani. She’ll
never let me hear the end of it.”
This time, Ayra did laugh. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person. Please tell her
Leilani says hi.”
He smiled and it made her breath hitch slightly. He nodded. “I will, In Shaa
Allah. It’s nice to meet you, Leilani.”
“It’s nice to meet you too…”
“Since we’re going by middle names, I’m Hakeem.”

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The only thought that ran through her head in that moment was that the
name Hakeem fit him, maybe even more than it should have. She smiled
again, sincerely. “It’s nice to meet you too, Hakeem.”
Still smiling, he turned back to the barista who’d attended to him as she
dropped his to go cup on the counter. Knowing their conversation was
over, Ayra turned back to her barista who’d been watching the entire scene
play out. Unable to help it, Ayra blushed and busied herself opening her
wallet. Pulling out her card, she was reminded of why she was in Leicester
and just like that, the momentary happiness she’d experience vanished.
It was the card linked to a domiciliary account Ibrahim had opened for her
after they’d gotten married; an account he’d credited after the party at his
parents’ home because he didn’t want her to spend any more of her own
money while on the trip with Ibtihaj.
“Please ring up her order on my card.”
That brought Ayra back to the present and she watched, nearly horrified, as
the barista rang up her order and Hakeem’s on his card. Her eyes wide and
panic slowly bubbling within her, Ayra faced the man beside her. “Hakeem
–”
He shot her a small smile, taking the card back from the barista. “It’s no big
deal. Also, Mama would have my head for dinner if I told her I met a
Leilani and I didn’t treat her well. Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s
something I want to do, and also to say thank you, for making what would
have been a regular trip to a café a nice one.”
He picked his cup of coffee and pocketed his wallet and card. Ayra noticed
then that underneath his black coat, he was in a milk coloured thobe that
seemed familiar; as though she’d come across it somewhere. She pushed the
thought to the back of her head and managed a small smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He began to turn, ready to leave. “I hope you have a
lovely flight. And if you’re just arriving, I hope you reach your destination
safely.”
“Thank you. I hope the same for you.”
“Well, I’m just picking up someone with my cousin but thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Goodbye, Leilani.”
“Bye.”

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Nearly a minute after he left, Ibtihaj stepped into the café, not caring about
the other customers as she loudly said “Ayra, oya o!”
It was impossible for Ayra to not blush, embarrassed to no end while
Ibtihaj let out a small cackle. She – Ibtihaj – appreciated the coffee and
muffins and once they left the café without Ayra mentioning her encounter
with the man named Hakeem, they got their boxes and exited the terminal.
Outside were buses, taxis, and private vehicles alike. As she wasn’t sure
she’d be able to recognise Adil although she’d seen his photo, Ayra let
Ibtihaj lead the way.
“Ibty!”
They both turned towards the left and while Ibtihaj grinned, Ayra had to
blink continuously. Pictures, she decided then and there, did not do Adil
Bello justice. Also, he was tall. Sporting a lovely smile, Adil walked over, his
hands in the pockets of his sand brown coat.
Ibtihaj stopped smiling once he got to where they were. “I said I was not
going to smile. I’m supposed to be dragging class for you small.”
Ayra snorted and brought a hand up to her mouth when she realised what
she’d done. Adil, on the other hand, laughed and shook his head. “And
here I was, excited to see you again, Ibty.”
Ibtihaj smiled smugly. “It’s me now. You have to miss me.”
Laughing again, Adil turned Ayra’s way. His smile was friendly and warm.
“Hello, Ayra. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Ayra returned his smile with ease. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you too.
Please don’t mind this woman.”
Ibtihaj nearly shoved her best friend while Adil chuckled, nodding. “I
won’t. I hope your flight was nice.”
“It was, Alhamdulillah. Thank you for choosing to pick us up and drive us
to Leicester, Adil. You have no idea how grateful I am.”
Adil, clearly embarrassed, blushed a little. “Oh please, it’s nothing.
Although Ibty’s refusing to believe me, my cousins and I have some things
to sort out there. We’re relocating to Atlantica as the year runs out so…”
Ayra could only nod. Adil then got his hands out of his pockets and put
them together, his smile retuning. “So, let me help me with your boxes.
Ayman’s clearing the booth because we got some purchases on the way
here. He’s a patient man and I haven’t been the best travel companion

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because I’ve annoyed him today. You know Ayman’s on his last nerve when
he enters an airport terminal just to get coffee from a café.”
“Thank God we’re finally meeting Ayman.” Ibtihaj said, gladly stepping
away so he could take the handle of her box. “You’re always talking about
him.”
Adil did not stop smiling, wrapping his hands around the box handle. “He’s
my favourite person, but do not let Aneesa hear that.”
While Ibtihaj chuckled, Ayra assured Adil she could pull her box along
herself. He was not having it and she eventually had to let go. He walked in
front of them, pulling both boxes with ease and Ayra took her best friend’s
hand.
“So,” Ibtihaj asked quietly. “What do you think?”
“He’s really beautiful, Ibty.” Ayra said honestly. “He’s lovely too.”
Ibtihaj smiled stupidly. “I told you! Wait until you see Ayman. Omo, if he is
not everything Adil described, I’ll kill him.”
A few more steps lead them to a red Range Rover Sport whose glasses had
been wound down and the booth opened. Adil walked right to the back,
Ayra and Ibtihaj following with small steps and hearing bits of the
conversation that began.
“Ayman, the boxes should come first. What on earth do you think you’re
doing?”
“Adil, wallah, if you do not move…”
Both men came into focus for the best friends and Ayra’s heart dropped
alongside her stomach. Adil’s cousin – Ayman – straightened, his back
turned towards her and Ibtihaj but Ayra knew who he was. She recognised
the voice and the beautiful manner of speech. She recognised the milk
coloured thobe that was majorly covered with his black coat. Most
importantly, she recognised the black crocs on his feet, knowing that if he
turned around, she’d see the initials A.H.B on the side and she’ll find the
Hawaiian Leilanis as jibbitzs in two holes. She had a feeling he’d be holding
his cup of mocha too, the one with extra milk and hot chocolate.
Adil shook his head, sighing. He then turned to both women, his smile
retuning. “Ladies, this is my cousin and also the one person I’ll annoy to no
end, Ayman Hakeem Bello.”
Ayman Hakeem Bello turned around, his small smile freezing when his eyes
met Ayra’s. Adil, oblivious to it all, continued, gesturing towards the best

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friends. “Ayman, this is the woman I’m praying to marry once we’re settled
in Atlantica if she’ll have me; Ibtihaj Oluwatosin Adeola.”
Ibtihaj’s lips curved into an impressed smile. “Someone’s been practicing.”
Adil’s smile widened. “I have. And, Ayman, this is her best friend, Ayra
Leilani Abdulaziz.”
Ayra wondered then if she should have told Ibtihaj that both of them – she
and the man who introduced himself with his middle name, Hakeem – met
in the café. She watched, with a heart that picked up its pace, as Ayman
recovered, his smile unfreezing itself as he turned to Ibtihaj.
“Assalam Alaykum, Ibtihaj. It’s so nice to finally meet the woman my
cousin wouldn’t shut up about.”
Adil’s eyes widened and he whipped his head in his cousin’s direction, his
cheeks on fire. “Ayman, you promised to not say anything of that sort!”
Ibtihaj smiled back widely at Ayman. “Waalaykum Salam, Ayman. It’s nice
to finally meet you too. Omo, this man does not ever shut up about you.”
Subtly, although Ayra didn’t miss it, Ayman’s smile stretched and his eyes
crinkled slightly; amusement lighting the hazel green shade even further.
“He’ll deny it once my sister, Aabidah, and our cousin, Aneesa, are around
but I’m his favourite person.”
“I hope the feeling is sha reciprocated.” Ibtihaj said with false sternness.
“Don’t be stressing Adil for nothing.”
Adil stood up straighter, pride a beautiful emotion on his face. “Exactly.”
Ayman laughed and the beauty of it hit Ayra squarely in the chest, making
her tighten her hold on her cup of the coffee she was yet to take a sip from.
Ayman, when his laughter died to a smile, nodded. “It’s reciprocated, don’t
worry. I’m only saying it because you’re here. I’d never hear the end of it if
I say it to his face.”
Adil smiled, still so proud. “You’re saying it now so…”
“Get away from me, Adil.”
Adil and Ibtihaj laughed. His smile still on, Ayman turned Ayra’s way and
his smile shrunk, softening. He put his free hand in his pocket and as
though he knew she’d not told Ibtihaj about their encounter at the café, he
said “Assalam Alaykum, Ayra.”
Gratitude was all she felt as well as a slice of the same warmth that had
wrapped itself around her back in the café. “Waalaykum Salam. Hello,
Ayman.”

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His smile did not waver. “Hi.”
Adil threw an arm around his cousin’s shoulder then. “Let’s get this vehicle
loaded and then we’ll be on our way. We’ll pray at a nearby masjid. That
cool with you two?”
The best friends nodded and Adil grinned. “Perfect! Ayman, chop chop!”
“Adil, wallah –”
“I love you too.”
♣
Leilani: Hi, Ibrahim. I promised to text or call once we landed but I
actually got carried away, sorry. We got to EMA safely and the ride
from the airport to our hotel went well. We (Ibty and I) are just going
to freshen up and then call it a night. I’ll call you once I’m well rested
In Shaa Allah. Bye!
The knot in Ibrahim’s chest loosened and he let out a long breath, relieved
that she was safe and fine. There was a bit of disappointment at the fact
that he wasn’t going to hear her voice yet but he reminded himself that
she’d had a long flight and he could wait.
He was about to put his phone to sleep when a new message came in, this
time from one of the secretaries at The Hexad.
Alexis: Hello, Engineer Fahad. I hope this doesn’t come at a wrong
time. A meeting was scheduled for 9:30AM tomorrow by the other
members of the squad and there was no mention of your name on the
memo I received so I wanted to clarify if it’s supposed to be that way
because I know such memos are only released when you’re not in the
country and as far as I know, you’re around. I’ll await your reply, sir.
Do have a lovely evening.
Frowning, Ibrahim read the message again and before he knew what he was
doing, he was about to dial Bella’s line out of habit. He caught himself at
the very last moment. Breathing out shakily, he closed her contact window
and tried to understand why they were having a meeting without him.
He’d not been to the office in a while and although he wasn’t sure he was
ready to head back, he knew he had to go in the next morning. There had
to be a reason for the meeting and he needed to know what it was although
there was a part of him that dreaded it.

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44
Ibrahim stepped into The Hexad through the company’s revolving doors
and felt nothing. There was no rush of excitement to be surrounded by
everything he and the others built. There was certainly no stab of pride at
how far they’d come. Lastly, there was no eagerness to head up to be with
Bella alone if they’d come together or to meet her in his office if they’d
come separately due to one reason or the other.
Swallowing the little lump in his throat, Ibrahim buried his hands in the
deep pockets of his coat and walked on. He was greeted by people he knew
well and those he didn’t, and he did his best to reply as politely as he always
did even though he no longer felt like he was worthy of the way they looked
at him with happiness and admiration; as though he was someone they
wanted to be so badly when he knew he wasn’t.
The elevator ride up was unusually long and Ibrahim didn’t like that the
seconds were dragging themselves. He reached the last floor and stepped
out of the carriage once the doors slid open. The secretary who’d texted the
previous evening, Alexis, was at his side in no time and she let him know
where the others were.
Ibrahim smiled at her, grateful. “Thank you, Alexis.”
She smiled back. “You’re welcome!”
Anneth’s office was the last one on the left end of the floor and Ibrahim
found himself hesitating for a near minute once he got there. Pulling
himself together and relying on every ounce of courage he had, he put his
hand on the door hand and pushed it down, helping himself in.
The conversation in the sitting area of the wide space ceased immediately
he stepped in and every single person he’d called his friend for more than a
decade – including Nathaniel who he assumed would be at the hospital –
stared at him, warmth being a non-existent emotion in their gazes and on
their expressions.
Ibrahim let go of the door and took another step forward, allowing the
barrier fall shut behind him. His hands returned to his pockets and although
he was tempted to fake a smile, he didn’t. “I had no idea there was a
meeting. I didn’t get an invite.”
Tobi shrugged. “Wouldn’t have made a difference. You’ve been a ghost
here recently and we’ve ran things well without you.”
Ibrahim’s heart cracked; yet another crack amongst many. “I’ve been going
through a lot.”

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Jalal stood, speaking as he did so. “So we can see.” He walked around the
table. “In case you’re blind, we’re going through a lot too and it’s all thanks
to you.” He walked over, his steps straight and sure. “How was breakfast
with Mummy and Daddy dearest on Monday morning?”
“Jalal –”
The punch was one Ibrahim never saw coming and the force of it pushed
him back a few steps. He hit the closed door and pain shot up his back. He
barely recovered from the shock of it when Jalal punched him again and
then again, pushing Ibrahim to the ground.
“Jalal,” It was Bella. “Stop it.”
Jalal didn’t listen. He got on Ibrahim and threw another punch, hitting
Ibrahim’s hands which he brought up to shield his face. “The first one was
me telling you hello. The second was me saying fuck you. The third?
Another fuck you. The fourth is for Bella and this –” He got in one more
punch before Nathaniel and Tobi pulled him away from Ibrahim. “That’s
for all of us, you asshole! Get the fuck off me!”
“Jalal, smettila (stop it).”
“He deserves it and don’t you all dare tell me you didn’t feel like punching
him too five minutes before he dragged his stupid self in here!
Ibrahim’s ears were ringing. Slowly, he pulled his arms back and the sleeves
of his cream coat were stained with blood; little patches here and there. As
his mind took him back memory lane, his breaths came out shaky; the
fights that broke out in clubs and in parties where he and Nathaniel had to
pull Jalal and Tobi out of each mess while Bella asked them to stop and
Anneth avoided getting them caught by the cops, especially when it seemed
as though things would spiral even further out of control.
His face feeling as though it’d been set ablaze and his heart in what seemed
to the darkest corner of his stomach, Ibrahim forced himself up, his eyes
slightly widened. The ringing in his ears continued and he watched –
unhearing – as the people he’d always called friends exchanged words,
Jalal’s veil popping and his hands as tight fists. The men – Nathaniel and
Tobi – stood with Jalal between them while the women – Anneth and Bella
– sat.
While Bella spoke, Anneth stared at Ibrahim in a way she’d never done,
almost unrecognisable with her blank face and cold eyes. Ibrahim could
only stare back. Slowly, the ringing stopped and when his hearing returned,
every member of the squad faced him. On shaky limps, Ibrahim forced
himself off the ground and raised his head to look at them.

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“Who told you we were having a meeting?” Tobi asked.
“Does it matter?” Ibrahim heard himself ask.
Jalal scoffed. “We’re definitely fishing out that rat. Someone’s going home
tonight.”
“If they even stay that long.” Anneth said, finally pushing herself up to a
standing position. “They’ll be gone by noon.” She walked around the table
and it shouldn’t have been possible but her gaze grew colder. “Ibrahim, we
were to have this meeting without you so we could decide where to go from
here but since you showed up, let’s have the discussion we were coming to
have with you at your place.”
Ibrahim felt his heart crack again. “And the assault I just suffered?”
Jalal scoffed once more. “You should be grateful they pulled me back
because –” He took a step forward, only stopping when Nathaniel put a
hand on his chest. His glare was lethal, aimed towards none other than
Ibrahim. “Because if I did what I had in mind, Ibrahim, you’d be on your
way to the ER, praying you wouldn’t need a reconstructive surgery.”
“And am I supposed to know what warranted that?”
“Really, Ibrahim?” Anneth asked. When he turned her way, she let out a dry
laugh before she nodded, leaning against the table. “Fine then. Why don’t
we go down memory lane? What the hell happened on Monday when Bella
came to your place? What were those questions you asked? And what on
earth did you mean by the solutions we came up with were the problems
you had?”
“And then asking her to leave,” Tobi added. “Even when she said you were
going to regret it.”
Ibrahim slowly turned to Bella who stared right back at him. She looked
innocent, as though she couldn’t hurt a fly, and it scared him. The question
slipped past his lips before he could re-think it. “What did you tell them?”
“Everything.” Jalal pushed Nathaniel and Tobi away and stormed over,
grabbing Ibrahim by his collar. He gritted each word out, his voice
dangerously low. “She told us how you stated that you didn’t want to talk to
us even when we worried sick and how you spent the weekend in pure bliss
with your wife while we wondered what was going on with you.”
He tightened his hold, his blazing eyes holding Ibrahim’s wide ones. “She
told us how you said the solutions we provided to the issue we’re having
were problems. She told us about how you tried to make yourself the
victim, how you tried to paint yourself as a good son when we both know

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you don’t give two flying fucks about your parents. Then she told us about
how you tried to make it seem as though you’re the only one who’s been
sacrificing when Bella’s given so much for you; when she’s been nothing
but selfless for the both of you. And then she told us how you asked her to
leave, even when she told you you’d regret it, before you went ahead to
have breakfast with the same people you never liked yet you called them
Mum and Dad. You’re a fucking asshole, Ibrahim, and you have no idea
how hard it is to hold back when all I want to do is punch you so hard that
you won’t be able to see until next year.”
The pain in Ibrahim’s face began paling in comparison to the knife that was
internally stabbing him over and over again. He looked over Jalal’s
shoulder, at Bella. The words hit him all at once and began to pour out.
“Why didn’t you tell them that you said things that singularised both of us
such as me meeting you and me being happy? Why didn’t you tell them that
you painted everything in a way that made it seem as though time and time
again you were doing me a favour by being with me?”
Bella’s innocent look stayed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Ibrahim’s blood ran cold. “Bella –”
Jalal shoved him. “Ibrahim, she’s doing you a favour by being with you.”
He pointed towards Bella. “This is a woman that people worship and you
got her. This is a woman people are dying to be with and you have her and
she was selfless enough to let you marry someone else just so you two could
be together. Isabella Valentino did you a favour by being with you and you
don’t get to decide you want to abandon ship now. It doesn’t work that
way, Ibrahim, and we’re going to ensure it doesn’t happen the way you want
it to go.”
Ibrahim turned back to Jalal, trying so badly to wrap his head around how
quickly everything was unfolding that he nearly missed it when Bella softly
said “Amore, basta cosi (Love, that’s enough).”
Ibrahim felt the world stop and if his blood ran cold before, it drained out
of him then. He saw – quite clearly – the way Jalal momentarily panicked.
He saw – with blinding clarity – how the eyes of the others widened and
how Bella paled. Ibrahim barely recognised his voice. “Amore?”
Jalal’s expression shifted; the panic getting buried underneath rage that
didn’t burn as much as it did prior to the new revelation. “Bella’s doing you
a favour by being with you and we’ve done you a favour by being friends
with you for this long and also by providing solutions to every problem that
has come up, including the solutions that you called problems.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
444

Ibrahim couldn’t move on. He painfully stared at Bella. “Amore?”
Bella held onto her innocent act for a moment longer before she rolled her
eyes and let it drop. She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “Yes,
Ibrahim, amore. The same way you call Ayra your love and your wife.”
Ibrahim’s chest was sliced open. He looked from Jalal to Bella. “You…You
two are seeing each other? You two have been seeing each other?”
Jalal’s hands were back to being fists at his sides. “We’re not talking about
Bella and me here, Ibrahim. We’re talking about you and Bella. You can’t
even say shit about fidelity because when Ayra came into the picture, you
were no longer loyal to Bella. So don’t try to act like a saint now because
everyone in this room knows you’re not.”
Ibrahim couldn’t breathe. “I don’t understand.” He wasn’t sure he wanted
to. “When I married Ayra, you started seeing Jalal?”
Anneth rolled her eyes, letting out a frustrated groan. “For God’s sake,
Ibrahim, drop it! That’s not why we’re here.”
He’d noticed the way their expressions had changed when Bella called Jalal
love but for some reason, Anneth’s words made Ibrahim actually realise
they’d all been aware of what was going on. He was the only one who didn’t
know and he’d been convinced that the only person she – Bella – would
have had to see was Serkan Yilmaz and even that was to be a ruse. Nothing
more, nothing less.
There was only so much pain he could take and in that moment, his limit
had been exceeded. His vision blurred. “Bella –”
“For the love of God.” It was Nathaniel. He walked over and grabbed
Ibrahim the same way Jalal had done, using the collar of Ibrahim’s coat.
“Listen to me, Ibrahim. I don’t know what the hell it is you’re trying to do
but we’re not going to allow you ruin things for us. So, here’s how things
are going to go. You better be listening to me.”
Ibrahim was listening but the words weren’t registering; not when a
memory dam he didn’t know he had burst in his brain; snippets of Bella
and Jalal playing like a movie – snippets that dated back to their time in
Leicester and then West London before they moved to Aomi. Moments
that had seemed normal until now that he was seeing them through a
different lens.
“You are going to cut your parents off and you’ll do it legally and perfectly
so they don’t find any loopholes they can use against you and against us.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
445

Nathaniel put emphasis on every word, not once breaking his locked gaze
with Ibrahim.
“When that’s finished, you will divorce Ayra. Islamically, it’s a long process
and I don’t know why it’s that way. You’ve never cared much about religion
but that lowlife does so we’ll go through whatever needs to be gone
through and just like you’ll do with your parents, you will also legally
separate from Ayra so that there’s no chance in hell of her getting back with
you. After that, we’ll move on to pretending that we’re sad that you two
ended things and then you and Bella would come out as an official couple,
just like you’ve always wanted to, and you two will get married, just like
you’ve always promised you would.”
Ibrahim’s pain was as clear as day and it was wrenching; like nothing he’d
felt, even with all he’d gone through with his feelings changing. He didn’t
recognise Nathaniel. He couldn’t even try.
“You will do all that, Ibrahim.” Nathaniel continued. “And if you don’t,
then I hope you’re prepared for what we were about to agree on when you
walked in.” Nathaniel’s smile would have put the devil to shame. “If you
decide you no longer want to be a part of everything you played a hand in
planning, we’re cutting you off from everything; the friendship, the assets,
and the company. This squad that’s six is going to become five and we’re
going to do it without batting a lid.”
Ibrahim felt as though he’d been poured ice-cold water. He blanched. “You
wouldn’t dare.”
Nathaniel raised a brow. “Do you want to bet?”
It was another blow and yet another knife that stabbed him with no mercy.
Ibrahim, horrified, stared at Nathaniel for the longest minute before he
turned and looked from one person to the other. There was no humour
that could delude him that they were joking. Unapologetic expressions and
nonchalance was all he got and Ibrahim heard the message loud and clear.
They were going to go through with it if he refused to bend.
He brought his line of sight back to Nathaniel, his voice hoarse when he
spoke. “I worked just as hard as everyone else in this room, maybe even
harder since I had to lead with Bella.”
Nathaniel let him go and shrugged. “We’ve worked hard too, especially with
all we’ve been through with you, so if you’re going to jump ship now,
Ibrahim, it’s only fair that we get compensation. Thirteen years of
friendship isn’t something that can just be tossed aside. You can’t just
discard us and expect to still enjoy what we built. It doesn’t work that way.”

LATIFAH EFUA A.
446

Ibrahim was dawning. “After all you’ve been through with me?”
“Come on, Ibrahim.” It was Tobi. He straightened from his leaning against
the desk position. “Stop echoing our words. They’re clear as day. Surely you
didn’t think you’re on the same level with us.”
“He did.” Anneth said with a small laugh. “I always told you guys that he
did.”
The ringing in Ibrahim’s ear began to return, slowly yet surely. He heard
himself break; heard every shatter that tore him into fragments he was
going to spend a long time picking up and trying to piece together.
“Let’s even start with you and Bella.” Tobi said, his hands disappearing into
the pockets of his trousers. “You weren’t on Bella’s level but if there was
one thing you had, it was consistency and a loyalty that was going to be nice
so Bella decided to humour you and eventually you grew on her so she kept
you close. Us?”
Tobi scoffed. “Bro, we humoured you too. Just like Bella, you grew on us
so we kept you close and went on to do all we could with you. When you’re
compliant and loyal, you’re the best guy, Ibrahim, but when you try to be
stubborn like you’re being now, you’re the ugliest thing and it makes me
sick. It makes me wonder why we didn’t just cut you off when we saw how
desperately you wanted to be loved. You were the loner that year anyway
with so many mummy and daddy issues that you didn’t care who you held
dear, just as long as they accepted you.”
“And now we’re trying to help you cut dear mummy and daddy off but
you’re being ungrateful.” Jalal added. He walked around the table, until he
was behind Bella’s chair. “Like Nathaniel said, thirteen years isn’t a joke and
we’ve sacrificed more than enough for you so if you’re going to toss us
aside, we should be compensated and what better compensation is there
than this company and the properties we own?”
“I could think of some more,” Anneth said, smiling at Jalal. “But let’s stop
there for now. I don’t want Nate to call me a greedy person.”
Nathaniel smiled and turned to his wife. “Babe, stop it.”
Anneth simply grinned. Tobi turned back to Ibrahim. “The ball is in your
court, Ibrahim.” He then smiled, triumph an unhidden emotion. “Knowing
how much this company means to you, we can guess what path you’re
going to take. Don’t try to be the dog that attempts to bite the hand that
feeds it. It never ends well.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
447

And just like when he and Bella had stood face in face in the foyer back on
Monday morning, the mental galleries in Ibrahim’s head crumbled to dust
and every memory dam burst, filling his head with too many snippets of the
life he’d shared with them; the good moments, the bad ones, even the ugly.
Memories he could see only he had held dear.
He looked at Bella who stared at him for a moment longer before she
looked away, putting her hands together. He looked at Jalal who smiled
wickedly, moving his hands to Bella’s shoulders before leaning in to kiss her
head while never breaking eye contact. Ibrahim then looked at Anneth who
smiled at him while Nathaniel occupied the space beside her, wrapping his
arm around her shoulders, a smile on his face too. Lastly, Ibrahim looked at
Tobi who stayed smiling.
“The ball’s in your court.” He – Tobi – repeated. “You don’t have to make
your decision now, especially with your face looking like that, but you
shouldn’t take too long. Time is money after all and we all don’t have that
to waste so…tick, tock.”
Ibrahim, with how shattered he was, remembered Ayra’s words. “If it gets to
the point that you no longer feel like yourself,” She had said on Saturday, right
there in his bathroom. “You can let things go. It’ll hurt but love shouldn’t be about
you sacrificing yourself for a person or for people who won’t do the same for you.”
Tobi’s smile stretched until he resembled a maniac on the loose. “Tick
tock”
“Those people?” His father had said. “They’re never going to sacrifice so much for you.
But you, Ibrahim, you’re going to sacrifice yourself for them and when you have nothing
left, you’ll see how easily they’d leave you. I only hope by then, you still have little to cling
onto just so you’re not an empty shell.”
Standing there, with all their eyes on him (including Bella’s as she’d turned
back his way), Ibrahim knew what his decision would be. Although it killed
him inside, he knew it was the right thing to do and he was going to try to
find whatever he could to cling onto. For the sake of himself and his now
uncertain future.
And for Ayra too.

LATIFAH EFUA A.
448