Journey to 'I do'

Chapter 20

Back in Abuja, my days became a delicate dance between work commitments and the upcoming wedding plans. Sundays, usually reserved for some semblance of rest and teaching the girls at the mosque, transformed into a flurry of activity, especially with Mamma's ambitious list of errands for my brother's wedding.

Faiza and I found ourselves delivering asoebi and invitation cards this Sunday. It was a task-filled day, and as I juggled the responsibilities, my phone buzzed with an unexpected interruption.

Glancing at the screen, I saw Usman's name flashing, a stark reminder of the past. I hissed under my breath, annoyed at the audacity, and decided to ignore the call. Yet, persistence marked his attempts as the calls continued, one after another. Annoyance grew with each ring until he opted for a different approach – a text.

"Please pick up, A'isha. We need to talk. I really have to talk to you."

Despite my initial reluctance, the weight of his message lingered, stirring a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Once we reached one of Mamma's friends houses I sent Faiza in and remained in the car to pick up the call.

As the call connected, the familiar timbre of Usman's voice greeted me. "A'isha, thank you for answering. We need to discuss what happened. It's been bothering me, and I believe we can find a resolution."

I listened, letting his words wash over me, a mixture of frustration and understanding. The conversation delved into the intricacies of the confrontation, and Usman expressed a desire for clarity and closure.

"I didn't mean for things to escalate that way. I care about you, A'isha, I'm really sorry and I think we can work through this. Can we meet and talk it out?"

I took a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Usman's plea for reconciliation echoed through the phone, and while a part of me felt a tinge of sympathy, another part recognized the need to move forward.

"Usman, I appreciate your apology, and I acknowledge that things got out of hand," I began cautiously. "However, I've had time to reflect, and I think it's best for both of us if we don't revisit what happened. I've decided to focus on moving forward."

His response carried a mix of understanding and persistence. "A'isha, I truly care about you. I believe we can overcome this if we just talk face-to-face. Can we meet, even for a short while?"

I sighed, realizing the difficulty in conveying my decision. "Usman, I value the time we had, but I've also moved on. I'm actually speaking to someone now, and I hope you can respect that. It would be best if we don't communicate anymore. I wish you the best."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, the weight of my words settling between us. Usman finally spoke, his voice a blend of resignation and acceptance. "I understand, A'isha. If that's your decision, I won't push further. Take care of yourself."

As the call ended, a mix of emotions enveloped me – a sense of closure, the relief of speaking my truth, and the acknowledgment that a new chapter had begun. With the echoes of the past gradually fading, I focused on the present and the budding connection that awaited exploration.
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Muhammad's POV
Leaning against the pool table, cue stick in hand, my mind wandered in the ambient hum of the private bar. The soft clinks of pool balls meeting echoed in the air, but my thoughts lingered on the recent twists life had taken.

As the soft hum of the private game room enveloped me, I immersed myself in the rhythmic clinks of pool balls meeting. Umar and Farid, my companions for the evening, engaged in a casual game. The ambient lighting cast a warm glow over the polished pool table, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie.