Comment on each paragraph and I update later😮💨I'm a bit busy now trying to complete the book so you'll see little of me for now. I want to edit the book before I publish so maybe update once or twice. I'll try my best. And have you checked out my new book YOURS, JANNAH? No? You totally should!
ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.
Zayd left Dr. Mujida's office to go check on Layla in her room. The thoughts slowly came back to his head that Layla is going through post traumatic stress disorder and that too the one that comes with vasovagal syncope. He almost bumped into a nurse, he apologized and continued walking to the room but couldn't stop himself from thinking about it some more.
He knocked on the door but there was no answer so he gave himself the acquiesce and traipse inside. She is lying there on the bed still sleeping soundly, he watched in amazement for he could swear that this is the first time he's ever seen her sleep so blithe and carefree. She looks so adorable and ethereal as she sleeps like a log, not a care in the world. She has always been disturbed while sleeping, her brows knitted and downwards in a troubled expression.
Taking a plastic chair off the side of the bed, he adjust it closer to her where he could see her face closer. He wants to see each and every single thing that made up that mutinous face and beautiful features. Had she been less prettier, would she have done everything she is doing now? Probably because it's there in her blood and she is never concerned about how beautiful she is.
She was breathtaking up close, her skin reflecting light like the silk of butterfly wings. The lines of her throat and jaw were a precise framework for a mouth as full and rich as flowers in deep summer. Her fragrance was subtle and dry and alluring. She smelled like a clean, soft bed he would love to sink into. The thought made his pulse thump insistently, his body hearing instantly, muscles loosening dexterously.
Tired of staring at her for twenty minutes straight maybe without even blinking, he stood up and adjusted the duvet around her. The weather is a bit chilly promising rain later or then, you never know with this weather. All the muscles in his body and instincts yell out he should lean down and kiss her forehead but he stopped himself at the last minute. What the hell is he doing? Lean down and kiss her forehead? Is he out of his mind now?
Shaking off that thought, he left the room to search for a nurse that will stay with her before he comes back. He cannot afford to leave her alone when she can wake up any moment and God knows what will happen if she is to go through what she did the night before. Wake up crying and then loosing consciousness in an unknown place. She shouldn't be left alone, not now.
He would've gone back in there and stay with her but he needs to take good bathe, get her something to eat and also take excuse from the barracks. He's never taken any excuse away from work, he is already picturing the shocked faces of his friends when he tells them he won't be able to make it. He won't tell them the reason or they'd come with him to see Layla and then they will think something is happening and boom, he is forced to spill everything that's happened between them the past couple of weeks.
Those memories are his to keep, not for his friends to find out about any of it. He hasn't told anyone about it and is not planning on doing so. His mother already perceived what's happened but she cannot be so sure it's happened too. He would like to keep things like that, for his mental health.
"Excuse me." He called out to the nurse that's just passing by, he stopped her.
She surveyed him with wide eyes, not with fear but taking him all in. He had to bite back a smile because the way she is staring at him would make any lesser man uncomfortable and fierce one to scold her for it but he just stood there and watch her back. Her face heat up in embarrassment when she saw that he is also looking back at her with raised brow and eyes filled with amusement. That is her odd habit she cannot get rid of.
Shuffling on her feet, she grimaced before stuttering out. "I'm so sorry, Sir. You were saying something?"
"Oh, yes. Can you watch over the patient in that room, 309? I'm afraid she is not supposed to wake up without anybody with her and I need to go get some things. Asap." He explained pointing at the door to Layla's room or the room she is currently occupying as she convalesce.
Usually, they are not supposed to stay with any patient till they awoke but after the way she's rudely stared at him and he didn't say anything about it, she feels compelled to do so. Him being nice and amused by something he should be creeped out about created a soft spot for him in her heart that instant. It's not everyday that you see someone that looks potent and influential enough to crush you getting amused by your foolishness. There is no doubt this man is someone in Nigeria. His poise and dexterity says it all.
"Sure, Sir. Take your time." With a smile sent her way, he pivoted around and left the hospital.
After taking good needed bathe and changing into relaxed denim jeans, grey sweatshirt with casual sneakers, he left the cabin as tactfully as possible to avoid bumping into his mother and having to explain what he's been up to the past few days. He stopped at a bakery to get them something to eat and even though he's eaten breakfast, he is hungry.
He entered the bakery, his eyes roamed around the foreign place for it clearly looks new. There is a sitting area with small tables or they booths where patrons can enjoy their gooey confections, an open doorway to the kitchen. A whirring bread machine mixing batter by the far end of it with a lineup of metal pans that are greased and ready for bread dough, a large stainless steel sink, a stack of crumb-smeared plates waiting to go into an industrial-sized dishwasher.
The air smells yeasty dough rising and then baking, sugar, melted butter, coffee, toasted bread, roasted nuts, maple or honey, tea, savory spices, garlic, cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, lemon, chocolate. Yum!
He decided on getting some cinnamon rolls, ginger bread, fluffy coconut bread, sandwich, cold coffee and iced tea. He left the bakery immediately after sighting one of his colleagues, he isn't ready to exchange long pleasantries so the other guy can go to the barrack and talk about him over round of green tea during their break.
"Thank you so much." He passed a small paper bag that contains three red velvet cake —hoping she likes them— to the nurse that stayed with Layla while he was away.
She collected the paper bag albeit reluctantly. "It was no hustler, Sir." And she left after a clumsy bow.
Zayd looked right at the bed when he saw movement from his peripheral vision. Layla just woke up, her arms above her head as she yawned and stretched like a feline kitten. He stood there, radiating virility, his gaze shocking her with its directness, she had felt her knees wilt and her blood race. It was mortifying. He's never looked at her in such a way, never this bold to make her feel this. . . high-strung.
He smiled slightly, his gaze holding hers, and for a moment her throat tingled sweetly at the back, as if she'd just swallowed a spoonful of cool honey. He started taking tentative steps to where she is, she didn't move, not even breathe in a rough way that will make her chest move. Her eyes followed each and every move of his till he sat on the chair the nurse just vacated and place the things he's brought on the bedside table.
"Hey." He smiled, taking her in like he's just seeing her for the first time in decades.
Instead of answering him back with her usual sassiness, she just nodded her head. She's started thinking about what brought her to a hospital when she last was in her bathroom trying to take bathe and cleanse each memory from her nightmare. How did she end up in a hospital? What happened? She is afraid to ask that question though. Frightened to find out what he knows about her now.
His smile didn't fade at her coldness. "Are you in any pain? How do you feel?"
He intentionally asked her that knowing she's supposed to use her words to answer but should he even be surprised that she only nodded? Well, she's always going to be Layla doing the exact opposite of what you think she is going to do. Always taking you by surprise.
Not deflated, he sat opened the paper bags he's brought to exhibit what he has bought from the new bakery. The smell of coffee started wafting throughout the air, the roasted chicken inside the sandwich he's brought along with flour, yeast and dough. Layla pivoted to look at the things she could devour there but there was no enthusiasm in her activities. The one that's always present when she sees food or anything edible.
"Then you should eat something before taking your medication." He coaxed by unwrapping one piece of sandwich, his smile reaching his eyes and deepening the edges.
She cannot keep nodding like a lizard and he won't stop talking if she doesn't use her words so she gave a fake smile that he could clearly read as façade. "I am not hungry and—" Her stomach grumbled before she could finish and the way Zayd had bitten the sandwich would've made her eat. He is moaning like a damned freak!
"Guess not. Should I hand you one? There's cold coffee here and hot one with milkshake too. Whichever one you want." He offered pointing at the different cups on the table to further instigate her.
She tightened her lips before taking a piece of sandwich and bite half of it, chewed in an unladylike way quaff down half the cold coffee too in one good gulp. Zayd raised a brow at that but held back his comment, not knowing what she will do if she is ever displeased with him right now. She can throw the cold coffee on him or anything liquid there, she is not to be trusted.
After having her fill, Layla sat on the bed with her back supine against the headboard, she let out a suspire as she rubbed her food bump. She closed her eyes and smiled widely, food always seemed to ease any trouble bothering her. Feeling Zayd's eyes on her, she slowly opened her eyes and held his with such electrical zap that got her chest rising involuntarily. Her senses shutdown at that moment, nothing makes sense no more.
She tilted her head to the side and look away from him with a wistful smile carved across her face. She stared out the window, her eyes gazing long away. Every single fiber of her body is screaming that she is touched and moved by Zayd's gesture and is slowly making the mistake she's made years ago but her brain refuse to believe that. Yes, she is moved but that is all about the matter.
She closed her eyes to pull an expansive breath feeling lightheaded. The words are cloaking her lungs, eager to emerge and build up good sentences to help her get understood.
"I've always known I'm meant to die at a young age. . ." She started slowly, her voice and tone hefty with sackful of emotions she herself cannot name.
"I mean, I've been through so much that I never thought I would love to see this day. I was at the precipice of death more than thrice. I guess I'm just so lucky to have reach now or there is something I'm meant to do before I die. And I realize later by the help of your sister that I do have much to do before I die but being happy is not one of them. It is something I was supposed to be doing since I was born but wrong background and shit."
Zayd listened quietly with brows pulled together in wonder. He doesn't know what to say neither does he know why she is suddenly confiding in him. Maybe the nightmare she's had the night before shook her to the core and now she does not know what she is doing? Besides, they both have been acting like they are not themselves for so many weeks already. They are living the lives of other people, a distraction they both needed.
She took another breath through her nose and release through her mouth. "I have been worshipping the God I don't even know. I don't know whether everything I was doing was right or not but I knew even then that I was supposed to pray, fast, believe that there is another life after this that everyone gets rewarded for what he or she did. I had always thought there is no deed better than being a Muslim and I'm going straight to heaven just by being that. . ." A bitter smile endorsed her words.
"How wrong was I? Very wrong. When I came to Nigeria, things weren't the same anymore. I see people praying regularly, accepting different kinds of fate with a bright smile on their faces and going through their day with heavy hope in their chests. I never cared, thinking it was all cultural or traditional shit, I moved on with my life. Lana talked to me first about wearing head tie, I stopped talking to her for an entire week. Why should she tell me what to do? She apologized and told me to do what I want but I'm still in the wrong. But does it matter? My life is wrong too." She licked her lower lip, still looking away from him.
"Then Bee talked to me few weeks ago about becoming a greater person by first covering my hair. She said things about Allah and I was so ashamed that I didn't know what I was doing. My life's been shitty right from the start. I was giving myself excuse for things that's happened to me but realize there are people out there that went through a shittier life than I did and continued praising Him everyday. I have no excuse. But it's too late at the same time. My days are numbered and any morning I woke to sunlight streaming through the shutters, I get surprised. I always sleep thinking I won't wake up but I keep opening my eyes all the time. I don't want to get used to it."
It was quiet for a while, Zayd not knowing what to say. After more quietness, he moved his hand to squeeze her softer and smaller one. "It's never too late, you know. You keep waking up every morning to sunlight streaming through your window because He wants you to repent and go back to Him."
Layla still didn't turn around to look at him so he stood up and went to block the window from her view, her eyes fixed on his chest. "And do you know what that means? You are amongst the lucky ones Allah has created. He loves you like He does every other person so don't lose hope. Go back to Him and see how things change for you and for the better."
Her lashes swept up and she blinked at him innocently. His smile didn't falter as his hand brush away a tendril of red hair from her face. Before he could keep his hand down, she held it with one of her own. "Will you help me go back to Him? I know I promised to leave the minute I got better but I'm still waiting for enough money to leave. Till then, will you help me?"
Zayd stared into her topaz eyes, his breath ragged a bit at the intensity of them. "I will but with a price tag."
Layla rolled her eyes. "I'm rubbing off on you and I'm not liking it."