BFFs: finding love again

13. Meeting Amir

Fatima wakes up and checks the time, it's ten o'clock in the night and the house is quiet. Everyone must've left already. She rubs her red puffy eyes from crying almost seven hours ago.

After bathing and praying Maghrib and Isha', she changes into a black top and a milk colored tight before adding a black and milk Jilbaab on. She slips in milk Jimmy Choo shoes and sneaks out of the house with two suitcase containing clothes, Khimaars, Jilbaabs and shoes with a YSL bag containing her ATM card, her phone, underwears and other necessities.

She looks back one last time at her parents house before taking an Uber to a hotel close to the international Airport.

She books a room at Chinox House Guest Inn after she remembers that she has to go for the removal of the dressing on her head. It's close to Fereprod Hospital so once she gets the dressing removed she'll book a late night flight to Dubai.

Fatima sets her suitcases and bag at one end of the room and brings out her iPad from her handbag. She quickly books a flight online and makes a call. Soon enough her Visa arrives.

She checks if her alarm is set an hour before her appointment then goes to sleep.

Amir rubs his eyes again. He taps the icon and soon enough, a page pops up.

"Teemah's Touch." He mumbles running his hand over a logo. He makes a call, nodding to everything the person on the other end says.

"Keep me updated." He says and ends the call.

He checks the phone number written on the flyer and copies it. He has been stalking Fatima Abba Sulayman on Instagram, Twitter and even her business accounts and he has finally gotten what he's looking for, her phone number.

He calls the number and groggy voice picks it.

"Teemah's Touch. You're speaking to Khadijatul-Kubra. Who am I unto?"

Khadijatul-Kubra?

"Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?" Khadijatul-Kubra says and finally ends the call.

Amir lets out the breath he was holding thinking she'd hear him breathing.

He huffs in disappointment and sips the last of his coffee before ambling to the bathroom to wash his face. He looks at his face in the mirror, he's no more the Amir Audu Kalshingi girls swoon for, that Amir always carries a wig like thingy on his head making it look like he has Arabian hair, not a bald head.

That Amir has no eye bags or red puffy eyes from lack of sleep due to stalking of someone who he thinks has forgotten him but hasn't. That Amir has stubbles of hair around his jaw and well trimmed side burns not hairy disgusting looking face.

That Amir is always dressed in suits, Kaftans, Tuxedos, waist coats, jeans, sweats, slacks and other drool worthy clothes not short worn out Jalabiyas. That Amir always carries himself with so much poise and enigma, a demeaning, diminishing aura. With his head held up high, not shoulders slumped and exhausted looks.

That Amir is always active on social media, always present in social gatherings, not hiding away, stalking a nobody. But all that doesn't matter to him, he just wants to be Amir Aliyu, the Amir his Fatima fell in love with. The Amir that always smiles and be the reasons for her smiles and laughs, that, is the Amir he wants to be. Not Amir Audu Kalshingi, nor the Amir he is now, just Amir Aliyu.

He smiles as he remembers the day before the event. The day he touched her like she was his. Thst day. He'll never forget it.

He takes one sleeping pill and goes to bed with a smiling fourteen year old Fatima's picture engraved with an indelible ink in his mind. He's going to see his Fatima tomorrow, he has to look presentable.

"You're lucky. Your hair is already growing back." The nurse says smiling at Fatima.

"I know right!" Fatima smiles back.

"Just try not to injure your head next time." Fatima's smile falls.

"I'll try. Thank you." Fatima gives a tight lipped smile and stands up. She walks out of the hospital.

She adjusts her bag and calls an uber. Soon enough it drives her back to the hotel. She starts packing as her flight is by 5pm. She decided last night that, why wait till night? When she can go in the afternoon or evening. So she booked an evening flight to Dubai.

She changes into a peach material gown, a white Vile flat shoe and a white veil. She picks her things and takes her lunch as it's already three o'clock. After taking her lunch, she checks out, calls another Uber and leaves to the airport.

As she finishes all the formalities by 4:30pm, she goes to find a seat and wait for her flight to be announced. As she approaches some seats she bumps into someone, a man to be precise.

The person quickly mutters "I'm sorry."

"No problem." Fatima replies and picks her bag up. As she raises her head shock gets written all over her face.

"You!" Fatima exclaims getting angry all of a sudden.

"Yes, me. Would you believe me if i said I was stalking you?" Amir says with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Look mister. I don't know you. If you could please excuse me. I need to have a seat." Fatima says moving away only to be blocked by Amir. She closes her eyes, muttering incoherent nonsense to herself before opening her eyes to slits.

"Sorry Fatiman Amir, I'm not losing you, not again." Amir says grinning.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want? Huh? What's your problem? I don't know who the hell you are and you're here blabbing nonsense to me. If you know what's good for you then you better you excuse me." Fatima seethes and side steps Amir.

He follows her steps and holds her hand.

"Mister, don't let me do something you won't like. Let my hand go!" Fatima says through gritted teeth, venom lacing each of the letters of every single word she says.

"Whoa. Feisty, as always." Amir says still holding her hands. A little crowd has already gathered, Nigerians and gossips.

"Mister, for the last time. Let go of my hands!" This time, the venom in her words have increased by thousands.

Instead of letting her go, Amir drags her hand and places it on his chest. She releases her bag on the floor and gives him a resounding slap, making him to let go of her hand. She picks her hand bag and finds a seat.

Amir being Amir just smiles. That's a progress, if it were last year she would've ignored him or reported him to the securities, but she even touched him. Yes, it's a slap but her skin made contact with his on her own accord for the first time in ten years.

"Sorry ma'am. He must've mistaken you for someone else." A man in black jeans and blue sweatshirt says.

"It's okay. He should just know that not every girl can take a person's nonsense for long." Fatima replies eying Amir wearily before walking away and taking a seat beside a dark woman that looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here.