Four Years Ago.
Kari Residence, Bauchi State.
A knock on the sliding door snapped Aadil out of whatever trance he was lost in. His eyes that were fixed ahead, staring at the city from the balcony shifted as he turned his head around, now falling on the source of the sound.
His lips slanted into a warm smile, as he extended his hand out for her; a silent invite for her to join him.
The woman flashed him a smile in return, one that brightened his mood without much effort. Gracefully pushing herself off the sliding doors she was leaned against, she closed the space between them; her soft hands sliding into his slightly rugged ones.
Aadil shifted to the side of the chaise lounge he was on, giving her space to sit beside him. Once she had done so comfortably, he picked up a drape blanket that hung by the side of the chair, and then got on his feet—facing her.
"It's slightly chilly." He stated, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her comfortably. "Why didn't you wear something a bit heavy? Do you want to catch a cold or something?" He scolded, eyes playfully narrowed at her.
She chuckled, the action sounding like a dulcet melody to his ears—one he wouldn't mind listening to for the rest of his life. "As if I would get a cold from this weather." She rolled her eyes, an action she is oddly fond of doing as she crossed her arms over her torso.
"You never know." Yet again, he occupied the space beside her, comfortably leaning back on the chair. Not even a second later, he felt her lean her lean her head on his shoulder; her hand now going around his. He didn't comment on it, he simply allowed her knowing such actions were her love language. He didn't mind, never did actually.
He loved it too much to do so.
However, at that moment—an action of hers that's termed normal didn't feel as so again. He couldn't help but worry, and as such, found himself voicing out the worry as well. "—are you really okay, Maa?" He inquired softly after a while, his voice low.
But, she heard him. Even with eyes flicked close, and with a laidback composure that might have one think she'd fallen asleep, she heard him and was aware of every little act of his.
Aadil's mother, Murjanatu Kari, or Maa as he likes to address her had her lips slanted into a small smile. "Of course, I am." She answered back, in a tone slightly higher than his—the elation in her tone hard to miss. "I'm spending time with my son for the first time in a long time. How can I not be happy?"
Instead of feeling relieved, and elated even that his mother is that happy to spend time with him, he couldn't help but feel worried. His stomach was in knots, uneasiness coursing through his veins like hot lava. He wasn't supposed to feel that way, but he was.
He had been feeling that way since his mother showed up at the residence a week ago with no warnings whatsoever.
He had kept in contact with her, and even spends time with her whenever he's in Abuja as well. But, in between being in the military and being transferred to other states, it had been a long while since the two actually spent quality time together.
"—besides, you even took time off work to stay with me. Of course, I'm going to enjoy it to the fullest." She suddenly added, putting an instant halt to his thoughts. "It's not every day you get an Aadil off work, you know."
He blinked, looking away despite knowing she couldn't see him. Guilt decorated his face like fine mosaic. He felt bad he had to lie to her about his suspension, telling her instead that he's taking his vacation days to spend time with her.
It's not like he would get scolded about that, he's way beyond that. However, if she knows he did that for a woman, he wouldn't hear the end of it and he wasn't ready for that. Not to mention, even if she had realized he lied about taking days off, she hadn't said a thing surprisingly.
It was almost as if she was taking whatever was given to her.
"The way you're speaking, sounds as though Aahil does nothing but trouble you." Aadil said instead, choosing to put a lid on the guilt. He convinced himself what's done is done, he should enjoy the moment as well. "And yet he has the mouth to blabber about being your favorite."
"Do I smell jealousy, Aadil?" She teased, her tone filled with amusement.
He huffed out a breath. "Of course not." Even though he said that, he still pulled her a bit close to him—resting his head on hers, giving her a little squeeze. Regardless of his words, he wouldn't deny it elsewhere that he is his mother's son.
He doesn't feel ashamed to admit it, not in the slightest bit. Why should he? What's there to be embarrassed about loving your mother and being that close to her? Besides, it's not like anyone would dare to make fun of him—at least not to his face so he's okay with that.
Maa hummed, an action that shows her not believing him, but not saying a thing about at the same time. Blowing it a breath, she wiggled slightly to find a more comfortable position, and when she found it, she suspired a relieved breath again. "Leave your brother out of this. He'll forever be my baby."
"Wow." Aadil stated blankly, not bothering to hide his mock surprise. He could already imagine the annoying man's voice whispering, 'I told you so'. He would've said that without a doubt had it been that he hadn't stepped out to meet a close friend of his, leaving the two alone. "No wonder he likes to tag along everywhere." He huffed out a breath.
For her to even travel back to Bauchi to meet her oldest son, Aahil still tagged along and made it his life mission as always to annoy the living crap out of Aadil, who wasn't too happy to see him. He'd rather see his mother alone, and not the guy that knew nothing about staying out of his lane.
Brothers. Sighs.
"Well, I do need one of my son's at least be there with me always since you are never around." She shrugged.
"He travels around as well." Aadil was quick to point, so as to not take the blame alone. "I mean; he even lives abroad. At least I'm in the country."
Maa held back the urge to roll her eyes. She without a doubt has a good relationship with her eldest son, both sons actually. When it comes to Aadil, she's pretty close to him—almost like best friends. Reason being, she had him when she was pretty young, so the difference between them isn't like other parents.
Hence, he grew to be her best friend and vice versa.
"Aahil works abroad. It's not easy trying to become a famous footballer." She was quick to come to her younger son's defense. "He's out there chasing his dreams."
"Or more like out there looking for ways to impress ladies." Aadil mumbled not so lowly.
The statement earned him a slap on his arm, and a slight pinch as well. "Oh shush. Just wait, you'll see. One day, he will become a famous footballer in shaa Allah and even to see him will be hard for you." She's probably Aahil's biggest supporter without a doubt.
At this point, both sons wouldn't be surprised if they see her start a fan club for him. To think she doesn't know a thing about football before. The minute he expressed his interest in pursuing a career in it, she was always seen stuck in front of the screens, watching matches and surfing the web to learn about.
Why? Just so she can understand him even better. How can the boys not adore her? Maa is the perfect mother to both of them, she's always been.
"We'll see." Aadil stated lowly, letting out a slight sigh. Silence took over, wrapping them in its warm embrace. They didn't mind though, since it wasn't awkward. However, there were unvoiced statements lingering in the air like a dark, heavy fog waiting to strike like lightening.
It needed to be expressed for the sake of both of them getting their peace of mind.
Aadil tasked it upon himself to break the silence, because knowing his mother, she wouldn't do it easily. "You know you can always talk to me, right?" He inquired in a low tone, just enough for her to hear.
Her lips slanted into a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. He couldn't see it though.
Taking in a deep breath, she exhaled, her shoulders slumping in the process. "I know." She mumbled. "Have I ever told you how good you look in your uniform though? I've always known my son is handsome, Masha Allah but you look so much better in uniform. Tell me, got any girlfriend?"
"Maa!" Aadil shook his head, knowing she was looking for a way to avoid his conversation by bringing up something awkward for him as well. For a moment, a certain woman's face flashed in his mind, but he was quick to push it away. "Don't change the topic."
"So you do have a girl in mind--"
"Maa." He dragged sternly, a way to show her he wasn't in the mood. They have serious issues to discuss, and they need to discuss it fast. They've dragged it on for way too long. "Really, are you okay? Because that's all I care about."
She sighed yet again, he seems to be doing a lot of that a lot. Taking one of his palms in hers, she intertwined their fingers before giving it a small squeeze. "Of course I am." Her tone came out strong. "I'm not the first woman whose husband remarried. I don't know if you've noticed, but men pride in polygamy."
Aadil held back a scoff. The way she puts it makes it sound a bit less than he actually takes it. "You're probably the first woman to find out your husband has another family." He pointed out, through gritted teeth, his tone and expression dark. "With his secretary of all people."
Maa's heart squeezed even more the minute he said that. She's been hoping to avoid it. It's one of the reasons she chose to leave and see her son, because she has one too many problems already, her husband wouldn't add to it.
Life with him over recent years has been tough. Her finding out one day, out of the blue when he chose to bring his mistress, sorry, so called second wife along with their ten-year-old love child to her home in the name of them living together isn't something she can handle easily.
It hurts even more when she remembers how nonchalant the man was, telling his lawful wedded wife that he has another family, with a child of ten years. Who knows how long it has been going on? If she had a weak heart, she probably would've died at the spot.
Not to mention the mistress, his secretary, a woman that she has been absolutely nothing but kind to is the one taking over her house.
It hurts, it bloody does.
But, she didn't react. She couldn't even bring herself to do so. She simply walked away with heavy limbs that felt like a sack of rice being dragged, and prepped her clothes to travel out and see the only source of happiness she has. It was a good thing Aahil accompanied her, because the way she was then, she probably would've fainted halfway and got sent to the hospital.
Aahil gave her strength to keep going, by accompanying her and Aadil retained that strength.
It took a lot from both men though to not wring the neck of the mistress, especially Aadil who was a second away from flying back to Abuja to give the whole family a piece of his mind. His mind still flashes back to the day he came back home and found his mother asleep, looking older than she actually is.
Aahil's words, informing him of what happened played in his mind like a broken playlist. She pretends to be strong, but on more than occasion, he overheard her late at night crying when she thinks they've both fallen asleep.
He couldn't go in and disrupt her, as much as he wanted to. So, he stuck to sitting outside her door till the sound of her tears stopped and then he'd go in to find her asleep. He pulls the duvet to cover her, and fetch a bottle of water along with Panadol to keep beside her bed when she wakes up.
They both pretend as if that doesn't happen though, because she never likes saying things out. She's always been one to hold things in, and Aadil hated it. He hates it way too much.
It has all been bothering him since she returned. And against his better judgement, it had started to influence his sleep as well. One too many times he had dreamt of doing not so great things to his father for making his mother go through that pain—one of which accidentally ended with Inaya on the receiving end much to his dismay.
He regretted it, still does,
But Inaya...as weird as she is, and as weird as it sounds, she gives him strength as well. She seems confident, and strong. He wanted that strength, even if it was for a day alone. Her eyes, they spoke stories that showed her life isn't as easy as it seems, but yet she still stands strong.
He admires her.
"You shouldn't blame Anita." His mother's voice suddenly came, coupled with the name of the woman that ruined her life. "It's not her fault."
"Of course it is."
"No, it's not." She hates her regardless, but she doesn't want to pin all the blame on her. "It your father's fault for going through with it in the first place."
Aadil couldn't argue with that, he doesn't even want to.
"—Which is why, no matter what happens, I don't want you to be hostile towards her. Don't harm her in any way, Aadil. Promise me you wouldn't."
"Maa--"
"Promise me, Aadil." She cut him off, her motherly tone making an appearance. "She is now a mother figure in your life, the mother of your half sibling. Be kind to her. Baa haduwa a zama daya. We should be kind of people, even if they hurt us. That's what makes us better people."
Aadil didn't respond, he couldn't. The good in his mother is beyond him, he doubts he ever could be like her. He doesn't even want to.
"Promise me, Aadil." She pressed, not willing to back down.
He huffed out a breath against his will, and mumbled in the smallest voice. "I promise." He then added in a firm tone. "For you, I'd do anything you want. Just say the words, Maa."
She smiled softly, giving his hand another soft squeeze. "Till eternity?"
"And the day after that."