Chapter 34

"I have talked with her father yesterday and he informed me we do not have to come to London. He has brothers here in Kano so my brothers will go there and settle things in sha Allah."

Mahmud scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. Happiness flowed through him, warming his skin like the rays of an early summer sun. His customary cautious grin exploded into a radiant smile that he had never worn before, not even as a small boy. Everything was going to be alright now, he had Habiba and she had him. "Thank you so much Baba, I really appreciate it. Allah kara nisan kwana." 

Baba smiled softly, "Ameen ya Rabb. So I suggest after the date has been fixed, you will come back." Mahmud nodded, "yes baba in sha Allah." They ended the call after saying goodbye. 

He smiled nonstop and headed back into his room from the living room. He got ready for the day and headed out. The winter sun brought out the purity of the heaven-given snow, as if were a blank page for their merriment, inviting the feet to play and the spirit to laugh. The air is frozen lace on his skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on sallow sand. The sky is washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. In some moments he was watching his boots over the frozen sidewalk, perfect concrete slabs, flat and square, and in others transfixed to the interplay of cloud and sun above. For some reason his mind conjures a stone mosaic made beautiful by the shards of a mirror and he wanted to keep his eyes heaven bound while his imagination makes them one thing. Only the slipping of his feet brings his attention earthward once more, the need to stay upright pulling his mind into the present.

He shivered and shoved his hands in his pocket before walking to the garage. He stopped at the Starbucks and had some coffee before heading to the airport to see Habiba and tell her the news. He drive around the beautiful city of London, having at thought about how his life would change in few months. So that was it, he has lost Maryam, his Manha. Never in his wild dreams has he ever thought he'd lose her. But, it has all turned to history in just a short amount of time. 

He never brought the thought of getting married soon. Even if he was going to, at least with Maryam but you make your plans and Allah does His. 

He hissed at the thought of how Maryam got herself played by his idiot elder brother. The points were there, the proves that his brother was playing her but she stupidly closed her eyes and blamed everything on him. The person that has been protecting her all his life. The person that wants what's best for her, the person that respect her the most but she chose to take him for granted. 

Karma did justice for him even though he is unhappy with what happened to her. How did she react when she found out that Mujahid got married? How did she cope with the pain and the heartbreak? Did she regret what she did to him? Does she even think about him? Why hasn't she looked for him yet and apologized? Or has she found someone else already? He kept asking himself questions till he parked his car in front of the building.

He knocked on the glass door before entering. "Hey beautiful," he cooed. She looked up to gaze at him. She grinned from ear to ear, "hello handsome. Happy is what she feels when Mahmud walks in the door, when she knows for the rest of the day he's all hers. It's not that he's fireworks and chatter; mostly he's so quiet, unwinding after a busy day. Just being near him lights her up inside, gives her a serenity she can never know without him being close. It's like the breaths she takes aren't full when he's away, like the smiles she smiled are incomplete somehow. Just sitting close to him is her favourite place in the world. It's him that creates the warmth in her soul, him that fills her full of love and keeps the fire burning in her eyes. If that isn't happiness she doesn't know what is, so she'll let it be her own definition, the one she keeps with her always.

"I have great news, babe," he chirped in sitting on the visitors chair. "Really? What's that?" She asked excited. "My father called me this morning and told me he'll send his brothers to kano to talk with your people and also arrange the wedding date immediately." Her eyes widened as she smiled cheerfully. "Are you serious? I...... this is.... omg..." she stuttered.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm so happy," she cooed looking at him. "My dreams are finally coming true ever since you came back into my life,” she added. "No, my dreams are coming true ever since you accepted me to be part of your life, Habiba," he spoke softly. She lowered her gaze, smiling sheepishly.

"I....." she trailed off and chuckled. "I'm happy too. I mean marrying you will be one of the biggest achievement of my life,” he spoke gently. She looked at his face smiling. He looked so good and it made her wondering if other girls thinks he looked good too and she got angry. "What now Habiba?" He chuckled  knowing she might be thinking of something ridiculous. "Do you get compliments from other girls?" She asked, brows furrowed. "Do you see me mingling with any girl, my love?" She beamed and shook her head.

"I will never..... get tired of telling you how much I love you. My heart beats only for your love. Life with you feels like a fairytale, so beautiful and pure. You are so caring and affectionate. Your heart is filled with compassion and love. I am so lucky to be in love with an angel." 

Habiba suppressed a smile. He could tell from her blush that she was deeply in love with him. Her usual even brown had a rosiness to it, it was cute.

••

The coffee table was a round tin tray on legs. The surface was brightly painted, doubtless once perfect. Upon it was the image of a robin in snow, a symbol of life amid the cold. The table legs were iron rods curled at the base, rising upward, somewhat organically. Habiba traced her fingers around them, imagining them to be vines reaching for wintry sunshine.

"Would you follow me to Nigeria after we get married?" He asked breaking her ocean of thoughts. That question she has been dreading and afraid of has finally came. Adrenaline floods her system, It pumps and beats like it's trying to escape. She thinks her heart will explode and her eyes are wide with fear. Her body wants to either run fast away from him and never return but instead she remained where she was. Let her face it because even if she runs, he will still ask sooner or later. There was really only one thing she can do: Pray he wouldn't flip if he hears her own opinion. 

"Uhhh.... I...." she paused and took a shaky, deep breath. "Habiba, it's okay. Just tell me," he urged and gave her a reassuring smile. She swallowed hard smiling that never reached her heart. "I was thinking about it and I thought we would...... live..... here," she murmured, lowering her gaze when she saw his reaction.

"Why?"

"Why? But, you just said I should speak up and I did, so why are you questioning me?"

"No Habiba, I just want to know why. Your whole family are back in Nigeria why would you want to get married and stay here?" He asked calmly. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Because I prefer here. I was born here, raised here and I wish to live here till I die." She spoke infuriated. He chuckled softly and shook his head. He wondered why she was turning it into something huge. 

"Well I don't wish to stay here, Habiba. This isn't my home......"

"Well Nigeria is not my home too...." she cuts him off. "It is Habiba, it is. London is not your home and....."

"What do you mean? Why are you trying to control me?" She snapped. He looked around and adjusted his seat. "No Habiba, I would never try doing that. I was trying to make a point....."

"I don't want to move to Nigeria, I don't want my kids brought up in Nigeria," she concluded. He looked into her eyes disappointed. "And this conversation is over else we are going to have a huge problem!" She stated before picking up her coat and leaving. His flow dies in his throat as he watched her walk out of the coffee shop without giving him another glance. 

He knew marrying an American girl would not be easy but he thought Habiba was nothing like them because she was half Nigeria, she was just different from any woman. He never thought she would ever argue with him. What has happened to doing as he wished? What has happened to the love? What has happened to their happy moments? Why did she suddenly changed her face expression the moment he started talking about Nigeria?

She had something to say but she wasn't speaking up. He could see the fear in her eyes. There was something she wasn't saying. There was something she was hiding. He ran his hand through his soft hair and sighed. He took his car keys and left the coffee shop. 

The moment he stepped into the house, he met Ahmad in the living room playing video game. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you didn't tell me you were coming back today," Mahmud said astonished, knocking his head. "Wha... hey that was painful...." Ahmad grimaced. Mahmud laughed sitting down beside him. "I came back since morning but I didn't feel the need to call you," he shrugged and continued playing his game.

"Well I'm glad you are back because I need your help," he confessed. Ahmad ignored him and continued what he was doing. Mahmud hissed and turned off the TV. "Wha...." he shut him up with a glare. "I'm serious man, I have a problem and I need your advice."

Ahmad sighed and dropped the game pad to listen to his friend. "My people are about to go ask for Habiba's hand in marriage and also fix the date immediately at her uncles place in kano," he started. Ahmad smiled, "what? Why are you just telling me that? Masha Allah bro, I'm so happy to hear that." 

Mahmud chuckled dryly, "yeah that's not it. I asked her earlier today if she would follow me to Nigeria but she instantly changed and got annoyed, like I triggered something real bad and she snapped at me......" he paused and sighed. "Habiba has never done that. She never argues with me. She's so so innocent but today, I don't know what triggered that bad side of her that I've never seen before. It was scary I’m telling you.” 

"I hope you did not talk back at her," Ahmad spoke. Mahmud shook his head. "I know there must be something wrong, but....." he exhaled, frustrated. "Remind yourself that human responsibility is restricted within certain boundaries. Don't stress yourself and pray. You should talk to her and settle things down."

“But do you wish to live here in London?” Ahmad asked. He slowly shook his head. “I don’t wish to stay here to be honest. I prefer staying in Nigeria where I belong and where she also belongs to but she refuses to accept it.”

Ahmad was speechless and had nothing else to say. Mahmud sighed and sauntered out of the living room to his room. He sauntered into the bathroom and performed ablution to pray Isha. After praying, he laid on his bed same time his phone started ringing. He picked the phone and answered the call. "Salamu Alaikum Yaya Mahmud, good evening. How's london? How are you?" 

He chuckled softly, "Aydah? Wa'alaikumus Salam. Everything is fine Alhamdulillah. How's everyone at home?" He replied. "Everyone is fine Alhamdulillah. Yaya is it true that you're getting married?" She dared to ask. He looked at his phone to check the name again to see if he was speaking with Aydah or Fadila. "Who told you that?" He asked instead. "I heard Umma talking about it earlier today," she replied. "Well yes, it's true even though the date has not been fixed yet."

"Oh, wow. Congratulations," she said in a low voice. "Hm! Why did you call me?" He questioned. "No, no Yaya I just called to greet you and ask if it was true and now I know."

"So you thought Umma was lying or what?" She gasped, "no Yaya.... I.... no.... I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing now? Aydah, if you don't have anything to say please I have things to do now." She sighed, "okay Yaya it's about Maryam....." the call ended before she could finish speaking. He exhaled sharply and was about to dial on her number when a call came through. He sat up and briskly picked the call. "Salamu Alaikum mommy, good evening."

"Good evening, Mahmud. How are you? I’m so sorry to call by this time.” She spoke, with her voice gloomy. His heart started beating fast. Why is Habiba's mother calling him and she sounded really down. "I'm fine Alhamdulillah. It’s okay mommy, I hope everything is okay.” 

"I was wondering if you're together with Habiba. It's getting late and she isn't home yet. I'm really worried because she's sick and it's really cold out there." She sighed, frustrated. His eyes widened and his heart beat in his chest, pounding, banging, trying to get out. "I.... we were together an hour ago but she left. I.... I thought she went straight home." 

He could hear her mother tearing up already. "No matter where Habiba went to, she will come back. She's an adult mommy, she'll be fine In sha Allah," he tried to console her. "I'm worried that something might happen if she stays too long outside."

"I'll be there now, don't worry mommy. She will be back." With that, he ended the call and started calling Habiba's number but she wasn't picking. He dressed up and rushed out of the house, leaving Ahmad wondering why he was going out.  He looked at the time on his phone, it was already past 10pm. 

He started the car and drove out of the garage. 

He kept trying to dial her number but she wasn't picking up the call... why is that? He can feel the sweat drench his skin even though it was ridiculously cold, the throbbing of his own eyes, the ringing screams vibrating in his ears, and the thumping of his heart against his chest. He gripped on the stirring wheel, making his knuckles turn white. He couldn't hear his rapid breathing, but he could feel the oxygen flooding in and out of his lungs. The thought of what might have happened to his beloved tortures his guts, churning his stomach in tense cramps. Fear engulfs his conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside. Fear overwhelms his body, making it drastically exhausted. What if she got so irked and refused to go back home because of what he told her?  

He quickly stepped out of the car and knocked on the door. The door got opened by her mother second later. She looked at him with her tear stained face. Her father tailing behind as they sauntered out of the house. "I just got a call, she's at the hospital," her mom broke the bitter news.

He could feel his heart pounding hard and fast. His legs felt numb as he looked at her mother. Her father placed a hand on his shoulder, "meet us at St Mary's Hospital. Don't worry, she will be fine," he cooed. 

••

"We are doing our very best to make her stable but......" her parents listened to the doctor explaining while his whole mind was on her. She looked pale and sick. Her face and hands were swollen. The tiny tympanic heartbeat from the ultrasound wand was the only outward sign that she was still alive. 

"But hopefully, she will be stable soon." The doctor assured them. Her mother nodded but still not convinced. They moved closer to her bed and watched her lifeless body. Her father sighed, murmuring Duas under his breath. 

"The person that brought her here said she was standing near a coffee shop, waiting for a cab before she started gasping for air and passed out. I.... I don't even know what to say now..... last time she was outside in the cold she nearly died...." slow heartbreaking tears cascade down her mother's cheek as she spoke. "Don't say that please mommy, in sha Allah she will be fine," he gathered the courage to speak. He needed nothing but a pep talk. He needed comforting more than anything that moment. 

If he didn't brought up that talk, she would've been safe. He would've taken her home after they had their coffee. He would've apologized when she stood to leave instead of leaving her to go by herself. He would have stopped her. 

Remorseful. Guilty. That was how he felt at that very moment. He wished for a Time machine so he could go back, rectify the mistake - the worst of all he has done. Now because of him, his beloved was in great danger. She’s between life and death. He exhaled sharply and shook his head. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "You should go home and get some rest, Mahmud. She will be fine in sha Allah, don't worry." Not because he wanted, he nodded and said goodnight before leaving. He was broken now, shattered really, robbed early of the tape and glue necessary to put his soul back together. His heart, poorly stapled shut, was beating hard but without purpose, his skin stretched across his aching muscles like a worn canvas.