2 weeks later
"Mr. Macaroni riding on a bicycle if you want to marry him, Mr. Macaronii, Bambam sisiliya...." Noorie sang.
"Noorie, please be quiet," Safeeya ordered.
Today, being Saturday, we were at home getting ready to visit my in-laws. I was in Noorie's room helping her get dressed, while Safeeya played games on my phone from her bed.
"Mummy, please tell Noorie to be quiet; she's disturbing my eardrums," Safeeya complained, as Noorie continued singing various rhymes just to annoy her sister.
Did I mention that Safeeya and I were starting to get along? She has even started calling me "Mummy" now. It all began when she found out I was good at making pastries and cooking, and she asked if I could teach her. We found time and I taught her different pastries and even some dishes . We became close through this, and our relationship improved, including fun family game nights we started having. I'm glad our bond is growing, just as I promised Abubakar.
"Noorie, you heard Ya Feeyah," I said, helping her put on her princess shoes.
"Mummy, Feeyah is just jealous that my voice is so sweet."
"Your voice isn't sweet; it's bitter. Ugly voice," Safeeya retorted, engrossed in her phone game.
"Feeyah, don't make me insult you," Noorie warned, taking me by surprise.
I sighed, "The both of you should quit arguing," scolding them.
"Mummy, it's Safeeya," Noorie pouted.
"Stay still, Noorie, let's fix your ribbon," I said, trying to quickly style her hair.
"Okay. Safeeya, give Mummy back her phone!" she ordered.
"I won't. What's your business?" Safeeya retorted with an eye roll.
"Mummy, tell her to give you back our phone," Noorie whined.
"Our phone? Like how? Did you buy it for her?" Safeeya shot back.
"Mummy, can you see what Feeyah is saying?" Noorie cried out.
"Don't mind her, my princess, and it's 'Ya Feeyah,' not 'Feeyah.' Call Ansar 'Ya Ansar' too. They're your elder siblings, so you should refer to them with respect. Understand, baby?" I stated, kissing her on the cheeks.
"Yes, Mummy, I will," she replied, hugging me lovingly.
My phone began ringing, and Safeeya handed it over to me. I answered it when I saw Abubakar's name on the screen.
"Aren't you all ready yet? It's not a fashion show, you know?" He chided.
I chuckled a bit. "Sorry, we are ready now." I ended the call and gathered our things before ushering the kids to the car.
As we all settled into the car, I fastened my seatbelt and noticed Abubakar staring at me intently. "Is there something wrong?" I asked, wondering if maybe he wasn't convinced about my outfit. I had chosen a blue lace Bubu with a white design, complemented by my dauri, a matching blue veil, and handbag.
"Wow! My wife looks stunning!" He complimented.
I blushed and replied, "Thank you. You don't look bad yourself."
"Daddy, what about me?" Noorie asked, pouting.
"My princess, you look beautiful. You're the most beautiful princess in the whole wide world," he assured her.
"Noorie, you look ugly," Ansar teased.
"If I look ugly, then you look ugly too," she retorted, and that's how their bickering began until we reached the Saleem's mansion.
✨✨
"The Saleem residence 💘
A maid opened the door for us, and we made our way inside. Upon arriving in the living room, we found Layla, Abubakar's cousin, collapsed on the couch, engrossed in her phone. "Layla," Abubakar called casually.
She immediately sat up upon seeing us. "Oh, Ya Abubakar, welcome," she greeted with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the kids and me.
"Thank you. Where is everyone in this house?" He asked as we settled on the sofa, with Noorie on my lap.
"I am here, I am here," Mami announced, appearing at the stairs with a welcoming smile. The kids rushed to her for a hug, while I got up from the couch to greet her respectfully. "Ina wuni, Mami," I greeted, keeping my gaze lowered.
"Lafia kalau, my daughter." She pulled me in for a warm hug, her Khumrah fragrance adding to her motherly embrace. "How are you doing?" She asked when we separated from the hug.
"Alhamdulillah," I replied, shyly. Abubakar and his mother chatted for a while before we headed to my father-in-law's office.
"Assalamu'alykum," we both greeted as we entered the room.
"Wa'alykusalam," he replied, setting his newspaper aside and removing his glasses.
"Abba, Ina wuni," I greeted, squatting down after the exchange of pleasantries with his son.
"Lafia, Alhamdulillah, Asmau. How are you and the kids?" He inquired.
"Alhamdulillah," I replied simply, keeping my head lowered.
Mami joined us in the room a few moments later, and we engaged in light conversation. After an hour and a satisfying lunch, it was time for us to leave. On our way out, we ran into Abubakar's sister, Maryam. "Innalillahi!" She exclaimed. "Ashe kunzo; you actually came?" She said, lifting Noorie into her arms.
"Eh, wallahi, Maryam. We're even leaving now," I smiled.
"In shaa Allah, I'll find time to come and visit you one of these days."
"Please don't come to my house. You're not invited," Abubakar playfully teased.
"Well, Ya Abubakar, Alhamdulillah I'm not coming because of you. I'm coming for my sister-in-law and the kids," she replied, with a grin.
"I've said my piece, so don't even set foot in my house," Abubakar declared, then turned to me. "Hayatie, let's go." I flushed with embarrassment, wishing the earth would open and swallow me up. My mother-in-law stood by the door, watching us. Oh, Abubakar, I'm going to get you!
"Inyee su, Hayatie, manya," Maryam teased, and Abubakar shot her a glare.
"Jealousy. Go get married and stop pestering Mami and everyone in the house." He shot at her.
"My mother isn't tired of me yet, so allow me," she replied, moving over to Mami and hugging her.
After their playful banter, we bid them farewell once more and headed to the car in the parking lot.
"Abubakar, if you don't mind, I'd like to visit home and check up on everyone," I asked, hoping for a positive response.
"Yeah, sure, why not? I'll drop you and the kids off, then pick you up later."
I mentally squealed with excitement. "Thank you," I smiled.
Minutes later, we arrived at the front gate of my father's house. The gateman opened the gate, and we drove into the compound. As soon as Abubakar parked the car, I unlocked the door and led us into the house.
"Assalamu'alykum," we all chorused as we entered the living room. I saw Mama, Ya Aisha, Sumayya, Rukayya, and Amir engrossed in a movie and discussion, seated on the sofas.
"Yaa Ma'u!" Sumayya and Rukayya jumped up to engulf me in tight hugs. "We missed you, big sis," they exclaimed.
"I missed you two dummies too," I chuckled, hugging them back. We exchanged pleasantries with the others who were welcoming Abubakar and the kids. "Where's Aunty?" I asked, scanning the room.
"She's in her room upstairs," Ya Aisha replied. Without wasting any more time, I rushed upstairs to her room and found her on a phone call. I waited patiently for her to finish.
"Ma'u," she turned her gaze and beamed widely at me. "Yau keche a gidan namu?" she asked.
"Aunty, I missed you so much, wallahi." I jumped on the bed, wrapping my arms around her.
"Ma shaa Allah! I can't believe Asmau is now a mother," she teased.
"Come on, Aunty," I whispered, burying my head deeper into her neck.
"Where are Abubakar and the kids?" she asked.
"They're all downstairs with Mama and the rest."
"Well, let's go and join them," she suggested, wrapping her veil around her. We made our way downstairs. Noorie was busy chatting with Rukayya, and the two of them seemed to be in their own world.
Aunty exchanged pleasantries with Abubakar, hugging the kids lovingly. Then he decided to leave, and I escorted him outside.
"I'll come pick you up after Maghrib, in shaa Allah," he said as we walked towards the car.
"No, please, after Isha is okay," I whined.
"Don't you think I've already indulged you by letting you stay up until Maghrib? Or would you prefer we go home now?" he joked.
"No, please! Maghrib is okay," I chuckled.
"Alright, I'll be leaving now," he said, leaning in to place a soft kiss on my forehead. "Take care of yourself," he added.
"Okay, bye," I blushed.
He got in his car and drove off, while I went back inside the house, just to find Ya Aisha seated on the sofa, enjoying some danwake. "Hmm, you're really enjoying this, huh? Without saying 'Bismillah'?" I teased.
"Don't speak to me, Ai, mun bata dake," she frowned, rolling her eyes.
"What did I do?" I pouted, settling down beside her.
"You don't call or ask about me," she mumbled while rubbing her tummy.
"Wait? Are you pregnant?" I asked suspiciously.
"And who in the world told you that? Or are you the one giving me the pregnancy?" she retorted.
"Alright, sorry," I raised my hands in surrender, and she rolled her eyes.
"Mummy, Mummy, Mummy..." Noorie called, descending the stairs to meet us.
"Yes, baby," I pulled her close to me before placing her on my lap.
"I'm hungry," she pouted, playing with the sparkling stones on my blouse.
"Okay, will you eat Sinasir?" I asked, and she shook her head negatively. "There's still some danwake in the kitchen if she wants," Ya Aisha suggested.
"What is danwake?" Noorie asked, furrowing her brows.
Ya Aisha gasped. "Ya Ilahi, Noorie, you can't seriously tell me that you don't know what danwake is! No, no, no. I can't allow that,"
I rolled my eyes at my elder sister's drama before replying to Noorie. "Danwake means beans dumplings, sweetheart. It's that food I made for your dad on Tuesday for dinner. Do you remember?"
"Ohhh, I remember! Yeah, it's tasty. But it's too spicy, and I don't want to eat it now," she pouted before saying, "I want Indomie."
"Alright, my princess. I'll tell Indo to cook Indomie for you."
"Thanks, Mummy," she grinned.
"My baby is highly welcome," I kissed her lovingly on both cheeks.
💫💫
"Asmau, it looks like you're really enjoying this marriage. You look more beautiful, and you're glowing. Ma shaa Allah," my sisters teased.
We were all chit-chatting in Aunty's room with a few of my sisters. They kept on teasing me about how bring married sure is treating me well.
"Wallahi, that's exactly what I was about to say, Ya Aminah! Ya Ma'u is just glowing and looking more beautiful," Sumayya said.
"You guys should please stop teasing me," I whined.
"We're not teasing; it's just the whole truth that you don't want to accept," one of them said, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring them.
"What are my girls talking about?" Aunty asked as she entered the room.
"We're just talking about how Ya Ma'u looks m—" Rukayya started, but I immediately cut her off.
"Ya Ma'u, nothing. Please, stop assuming things."
"Allow her to finish her statement, mana," Ya Aisha joined in.
"I give up," I sighed. "I'm going downstairs to check on the kids," I said, using an excuse to leave.
"We're not done discussing this topic, just so you know."
"Maybe you guys are not done, but I am definitely done."
"We shall see," they laughed. As I was about to ascend the stairs, my thoughts drifted to Ya Salma. I had heard that she was around, and considering her nature she was probably holed up in her room, as she mostly enjoys being alone. Deciding to pay her a visit, I walked over and knocked on her door. "Come in!" I heard her say.
"Assalamu'alykum, Ya Salma," I beamed as I entered her room.
"Oh, Asmau! It's you," she said, sending me a slight smile while pausing the movie she was watching on her laptop. "How are you doing?" she asked, turning to face me on the bed.
"Alhamdulillah, wallahi. And you?" I asked. It felt strange to speak in this formal manner. Imagine this, your own sister, with whom you used to tease, joke, and laugh around with, acting like a stranger, or perhaps both of us acting like strangers. I didn't want our relationship to remain like this, and I wished there was something I could do to bring back our old bond. I wanted my old Ya Salma back, my elder sister back.
"Alhamdulillah. I didn't know you were visiting. Is Abubakar with you?" she asked, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt. I didn't know why, though. Was it jealousy or something else?
"Yes, we arrived about an hour ago, and no, Abubakar isn't here. He left immediately after dropping us off." I responded.
"Oh," she whispered, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
What's happening to me? Why do I suddenly feel jealous?
"Why did you ask?" I inquired.
"Just wanted to greet him," she shrugged.
I wasn't buying that excuse.
"Okay, then. Please, Ya Salma if you don't mind, can we talk about something important?"
"Look, Asmau, if this is about explaining why you married Abubakar and all that, don't bother. I don't hold any grudges against you. Besides, I know you did it just to make our parents happy, and I'm glad you did. And since your marriage is all fake, and you both don't love each other, I'm sure it won't last. In the end, you'll marry Abdul, the man you truly love," she said with a smile.
I gulped. "Well, Ya Salma, I have to get going now because I'm sure Abubakar will return soon to pick us up," I offered as an excuse to leave.
"Okay, sure. Bye."
"Okay," I whispered before stepping out of the room. I let out a deep breath that I hadn't realized I was holding when I closed her door. Leaning against it for a moment, I pondered my feelings.
I'm sorry, Ya Salma...
But I'm not letting go of Abubakar that easily.
Edited Version✨
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