Spending time with Fulan the day before had been reckless, exhilarating, and nothing like what Yaseerah had imagined it would be.
Spending time with him again today was beyond reckless, and Yaseerah had no excuse for it beyond the fact that she'd enjoyed their outing two days ago.
Horse racing had always been a one person sport for her but Fulan had brought out her competitive streak and made her question everything she'd known, before he entered her life.
Could one person upend her life in a beautiful yet tragic way after spending just a handful of hours with him?
Sneaking out again tonight while her father was at home was dangerous, but she'd already set the ball in motion and couldn't stop, even if she tried.
Fulan was simply mesmerizing. His intense gaze always held her in its gravitational pull, his eyes like deep pools of warmth that seemed to understand her soul. He made her heart race and made butterflies take flight in her stomach. He made her hope and wish for things she hadn't thought were possible before, which was absolutely foolish.
With every stolen moment with him, she could feel herself straying further from the path her father had chosen for her, and the guilt gnawed at her like a relentless predator.
In less than two weeks, she was going to be married to another and it was neither fair on her nor Fulan to continue down this path. But she couldn't tell him the truth. Not now at least.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to experience joy and love, before she was locked away in another gilded cage with someone who didn't want her.
Was it selfish of her to use Fulan this way? Yes, it was. But she didn't want to think of it as that. She was simply going with the flow.
As she stealthily slipped out of the gates of the manor, narrowly missing the guards, her heart raced with anticipation of what the night held.
Dressed in a casual ensemble of jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt, she had thrown on a pale pink kimono to add a touch of elegance and modesty to her outfit.
The Rink Arena in Abuja had been a long-time dream, and tonight, it would become a reality. Bilal would hate her for going without him, but she couldn't think of a better person to skate with than the man who made her dream.
As she approached the predetermined rendezvous point, her heart quickened. A few houses away, bathed in the soft glow of a street lamp, Fulan's car sat patiently. He had parked in the shadows, just like she'd told him to.
When she opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, her eyes instinctively met his, and she offered him a soft smile.
There was an unspoken connection between them, a magnetic pull that transcended words. His warm, brown eyes held a depth of emotion that mirrored her own, and in that fleeting moment, she knew she'd made the right choice to come out tonight.
No one had ever looked at her the way that he did, and she had no doubt after him, no one would ever look at her the same way.
“You look...” Fulan swallowed, his gaze roving over her face once again, before he settled it on the steering wheel. “You look radiant.”
Yaseerah’s heart stuttered for another reason. Hayat had taken her to a traditional esthetician as a pre-wedding gift earlier today so, she was glowing from hours of having dilka and halawa pastes rubbed into her body.
'you are a cheat!'
'what do you think you are doing out here with someone who isn't your fiancé?'
'do you think this will go over well for you?'
“I'm sorry if I offended you.” Fulan's voice cut through the voices in her head, and she turned to face him with a deep frown, ignoring the voices that kept taunting her.
“You didn't offend me, I was just thinking.”
Fulan nodded, then handed her a cup of Charme chocolate dirty tea, she hadn't noticed him holding.
Her whole demeanor instantly brightened as she held the large cup in her hands, the rich aroma of the beverage enveloping the car, mingling with the intoxicating scent of leather and Fulan's cologne when she opened it.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the cup.
“What are friends for?”
Friends?
Is that what we are?
“So, we are friends now?” she asked, her voice soft, as she fought to keep her emotions in check.
“We are whatever you want us to be, Yaseerah.”
His smile spread slowly, like the first rays of dawn breaking through a dark night, casting a spell over her.
Yaseerah's heart fluttered at his words and smile. Silently, she admitted to herself that she wanted more than just friendship with him, even if it seemed impossible.
Dayum! This is definitely going to end in tears.
Yaseerah couldn't escape the constant tug-of-war within her, torn between the desire for a love she'd never known and the duty that awaited her in a loveless marriage.
The first sip of the sweet, velvety drink sent a rush of warmth through her, not just from the tea, but from the electrifying tension that crackled between them, and she let out a soft moan which had Fulan tensing, but she didn't notice.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “I love you.”
“Do you mean me?” Fulan's voice held a note of amusement, but when she cracked an eye open and locked gazes with him, the silence between them became charged with unspoken desires and unexplored possibilities.
“Do you want me to lie to you?” she smiled, arching an elegant brow at him, though her heart still raced at his question.
'do you mean me?'
“No,” Fulan laughed, shaking his head as he pulled away from the curb. “I know you meant the tea.”
As she continued to sip the chocolate dirty tea, she couldn't help but wonder if this stolen moment with him was worth all the risks she was taking.
Their journey to the Rink Arena was filled with laughter, and occasional stolen glances. Yaseerah couldn't help but admire the way Fulan's hands gripped the steering wheel, strong and confident, yet gentle when he reached for the gear shift.
The city lights of Abuja painted a tapestry of colors outside the car window, casting a dreamlike glow over the night. Yaseerah's heart raced not just from the thrill of their covert rendezvous but from the undeniable chemistry that seemed to always pulse between them.
As Fulan guided the car into the parking lot of the Rink Arena, the sight of the brightly lit entrance and the sound of cheerful laughter from within.
Excitement bubbled within her, fluttering like a thousand delicate butterfly wings in the depths of her stomach.
They parked the car, and Fulan turned off the engine. He turned toward Yaseerah, his gaze lingering on her, making her cheeks rosy, no matter how hard she tried to hide them. The romantic tension between them was palpable, an invisible thread that seemed to draw them closer with every passing moment.
Just like the last time they had been out together, he asked her the same question.
“Are you ready for this, Yaseerah?” Fulan's voice was a velvet whisper, laced with a hint of mischief.
'do you mean ready for something else?'
No, she wasn't ready for this, but there was only one answer she could give him.
Yaseerah met his gaze, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and desire. “I'm ready.”
“Tonight is just the beginning, Yaseerah.”
Tonight could be the end.
It has to be the end.
I can't hurt you.
I don't want to hurt you.
The air between them crackled with an unspoken promise, a shared understanding of the uncharted territory they were stepping into.
Just tonight, and I'll let him go, she promised herself, as they alighted from the car.
Inside the Rink Arena, the atmosphere buzzed with energy and excitement.
Couples and friends twirled gracefully on the smooth, illuminated rink while others watched with smiles, their faces aglow with joy, soft music playing in the background.
Fulan led Yaseerah to the rental counter where they laced up their skates.
Sitting side by side, the momentary intimacy of the task sent a wave of heat through their bodies. Their hands brushed accidentally, and their fingers intertwined for a brief, electrifying second before they pulled away, hearts pounding.
Once their skates were secured, they took their first tentative steps onto the board.
Yaseerah's heart raced as she clung to the railing for support. The board beneath her feet was slippery and unforgiving, yet she felt a sense of liberation she had never experienced before, with Fulan behind her, shadowing her movements.
Their blades rolled through the smooth board, as Yaseerah and Fulan skated side by side.
She could feel a rush of exhilaration as she gained confidence on the board. She was no expert skater, but with Fulan beside her, she felt as if she could conquer anything. Her laughter, like tinkling bells, filled the air as she skated in graceful loops, her kimono fanning behind her.
Fulan matched her every move effortlessly, his presence a reassuring anchor besides her.
With Yaseerah leading, they glided together in perfect harmony, their movements mirroring each other's, even though hers were still clumsy.
The cool breeze brushed against Yaseerah's flushed cheeks, and she felt alive in a way she hadn't in years.
Her heart soared as they circled the rink. The world outside didn't matter; all that mattered was the here and now, the sensation of freedom and connection with Fulan.
Her worries about her impending marriage and the potential consequences of their secret encounters faded into oblivion.
Fulan's laughter joined hers, and the sound blended into the music playing softly in the background.
His hand extended toward her, palm up, in an unspoken invitation, and she hesitated for only a moment before placing her hand in his, the contact sending a jolt of warmth through her.
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he twirled her gently, sending her into a spin that left her breathless and dizzy.
As she regained her balance, she couldn't help but think that this was the kind of happiness she had longed for. It was a stolen moment, a secret love, but it was real, and it was hers.
As they continued to skate, their laughter mingling with the music, Yaseerah knew that this was a night she would cherish forever.
A connection that would remain etched in her heart, a memory of a night filled with laughter, joy, and the promise of a love that, even if it couldn't be, would forever be remembered.