Over and Over

Array

EL-BAAZ MANSOR,
KANO,
NIGERIA.

NARRATOR'S POV

Within the palace walls, the Queen Mother, Ummu, and the Queen, Ammi, were engrossed in preparations for Hakeem and Layla's upcoming trip to Saudi Arabia.

Surrounded by attendants, they meticulously chose attire suitable for Umrah, ensuring every detail was perfect.

Ummu, with a regal air, scrutinized the travel route, while Ammi, grace personified, oversaw the arrangements with expert precision.

As they worked, Ummu shared her royal travel experiences, and soon everything was ready.

The only thing missing was Layla and Hakeem.

ABUJA,
NIGERIA.

By 2 p.m., Hakeem and his groomsmen had already left for the hotel to prepare for the evening.

Layla's relatives were taken to their guesthouses, knowing only Hakeem would accompany his wife to their marital home.

As 3 p.m. approached, Layla felt a sense of dread.

The next hours promised to be the most challenging of her life.

LAYLA'S POV

I sat in my mother's room, my legs crossed on the bed, hands folded tightly, wrestling with the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind.

The weight of the situation pressed down on me, and i wondered how I would navigate this storm without Dada.

"Layla, am dume dama ta ma (what is wrong with you)?" Dada’s voice, tinged with worry, interrupted my thoughts.

I tried to maintain my composure, but my eyes betrayed me. Tears welled up, and soon i was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Layla, compose yourself. Your in-laws are here, and they might think something is wrong," Dada said, her voice laced with concern as she hugged and patted me.

"Yes, Dada, everything is wrong, and they should know!" I cried, my eyes shut tightly as I fought to stem the tide of tears.

"Lalla (princess in Moroccan)," called a voice from the door. We both turned quickly to see who it was.

"Zarah, bismillah," Dada said, rising from the bed and approaching Tata Zarah, who was struggling with a mountain of bags.

I quickly wiped my tears and joined my mother in helping Zarah with the bags.

"I hope I'm not interrupting any special moment," Zarah said with concern, but before she could finish, my tears began anew.

"Lalla," Zarah called softly, embracing me and patting my back.

She led me to the couch at the end of the room.

"What happened, Lalla?" Tata Zarah asked gently, watching as i wiped my tears, searching for words.

"If you're thinking you’ll miss your mother, you have to stop because we are here, and we'll be more like your real family than your in-laws," Zarah said, trying to soothe me.

"Or is it Hakeem who said something to you?" she asked, and i quickly shook my head, signaling ‘no’.

"I know he wouldn’t make you cry. Lalla, you are the first girl to make him feel this way.

He hasn't smiled or spoken normally to his family since... the accident..." Zarah’s voice trailed off.

"Which accident?" I managed to ask, wiping my tears for the last time.

"Look, Lalla, Hakeem got this for you," Zarah said, changing the subject as she pulled a beautiful beige djellaba (Moroccan traditional dress) from the bag.

"He wants you to wear this when you two leave," she added, placing the dress on my lap.

"Sure," I replied, a smile breaking through my tears.

By 4 PM, I was dressed in the beautiful Moroccan dress.

With Tata Zarah's help, my hair was arranged perfectly, and my makeup was flawless, making me look like a true Moroccan.

"Adda Layla, you have a visitor," my brother Aadil called just as I was about to put on my jewelry.

Unaware of the visitor's identity, i made my way towards the door.

NARRATOR'S POV

Meanwhile, Hakeem, mesmerized by Layla's elegance in the djellaba, couldn't take his eyes off her as she descended the stairs.

As Layla approached the visitor, she collided with Hakeem, who was struck by her beauty.

"Where are you off to?" he asked, holding her gently.

"I have a visitor," she replied quickly, trying to avoid him.

He couldn't help but admire her, particularly the way her long, wavy black hair shone in the light.

In a moment of admiration, Hakeem impulsively kissed her hand gently.

"Eww!" she said, glaring at him.

"It's sunnah, my dear," he replied with a smirk, and her expression showed her disgust.

Unbeknownst to them, the visitor waiting outside was Imam, the man she had loved deeply.

"What the hell," Imam whispered as he witnessed the tender moment from afar.

His heart sank, misinterpreting the kiss as a sign of love between Layla and Hakeem.

"Layla, why!" he kept saying, losing his balance and falling to the ground, completely heartbroken.

Layla pulled her hand from Hakeem's grip and walked towards the door.

She saw a familiar figure about to leave and called out, "Imam!"

He turned to face her, tears streaming down his face, and broke down completely.

Hakeem, hearing Layla's shout, hurriedly walked outside, silently observing the unfolding drama.

"You betrayed me, Layla," Imam said, his voice cracking with emotion. "You fucking betrayed me," he continued before Hakeem interrupted, "Watch your tongue," he warned.

"Layla, I rejected everyone for you, and you rejected me for him," Imam said, pointing at Hakeem, who just stood there smirking.

"Imam, pl..ea.." she started, but he cut her off, "Don't you dare say my name with that mouth of yours ever again!"

"Let me make one thing clear, from now on, I want a life without you, memories that don't include you, a heart that never loved you, a mind that won't think about you. And lastly, a whole new me who never knew you," he said and walked away.

"Imam! Please hear me out," she cried desperately, but he acted as if she never existed.

She watched him walk away, possibly for the last time, and turned to go back inside.

She met Hakeem at the door, "You've ruined me," she said, throwing a pair of her heels at him.

He caught the heels just in time and replied, "You ruined me a long time ago, Layla. Time you caught up," he said as he bent down and placed the shoe back on her foot.