ASMAU
"Mummy, why are you crying?" Noorie asked, her innocent eyes filled with concern as she sat down beside me on the bed.
I quickly wiped away the tears on my cheek, forcing a smile. "Baby, I'm not crying, something just entered my eyes."
"Are you sure? Because you've been quiet and sad since yesterday."
I took a deep breath, trying to hide my pain. "Noorie, it's nothing, darling. Don't worry. Have you eaten breakfast?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.
"No, we've been waiting for you," she replied.
"Oh no, let's go downstairs so you can eat," I said and together, we hopped off the bed and made our way downstairs.
"Have you talked with Daddy? When is he coming back?" She inquired as we descended the stairs.
"Daddy is coming back soon, In shaa Allah. Don't worry," I reassured her, although I also was finding it hard to assure myself.
How could I tell the poor girl that her daddy had come home yesterday, we'd had a serious fight, and then he left for only God knows where? I'd been trying to call him, but his phone was switched off. I hoped he was safe. This was all my fault. I just wished he would hear me out. I needed to find out who was behind this, and I was certain it was Iman.
"Mummy, why is your body so hot?" Feeyah asked, her brows furrowing in concern.
"Feeyah, it's nothing. My body is always warm," I lied, though my head had been pounding since yesterday, likely from all the crying.
"Mummy, I know you, fah. Please tell us what's wrong with you. Yesterday, we came home to find you crying. We don't like to see you worried. It's not good for your health and the twins," Feeyah stated, in concern.
"Kids, I'm serious, nothing is bothering me," I replied, managing a small smile.
"Okay, but if Daddy comes back home, I'm going to tell him that something is wrong with you, but you don't want to tell us,"
I was about to respond when Abubakar walked into the house. My heart fluttered, and I didn't realize when a smile graced my lips.
"Daddyyyyy!" the kids chorused, as they ran to hug him.
I stood up and walked over to join them, "Welcome," I said, relief evident in my voice.
"Thank you," he replied with no emotions on his face, as he headed upstairs.
Ouch..
I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I wouldn't give up, though. I followed him upstairs to our room, and hesitated at the door. Should I enter? What if he gets furious? I felt nervous and anxious. But, I took a deep breath, steadying myself before walking into the room after offering my salam.
Inside, I found him packing, and my heart skipped a beat. "Are you leaving?" I asked, anxiety gnawing at me. Had it come to this?
He looked up, his expression unreadable. "I am unpacking. Remember, I came back from a trip," he stated, and I heaved a relieved sigh.
"Can we talk?"
"No, I don't have time to hear your lies," he retorted.
My heart ached at his words. "Abubakar, why are you doing this to me? At least allow me to explain myself," I pleaded, my voice shaking.
"Explain what? You mean I should let you continue feeding me lies, right? Asmau, just leave. I don't want to hear anything from you," he replied, his tone cold and unyielding.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I held them back. "You know we can't continue like this, right?" I pressed on, my voice trembling.
"Then leave. The door is opened; I never forced you to stay. Besides, you are no different from Iman," he said, his words cutting deep.
"You don't know what you're saying, Abubakar. I am nothing like that woman. I can never, ever leave you guys. Abubakar, I love you, but you need time to think. When you're ready to hear me out, I'll be here,"
"Go out; I want to shower," he ordered, suddenly.
I sighed, feeling disappointment. "Okay. Have you eaten?"
"No, I will eat at Fadeel's," he replied curtly.
"Eat here, please. It won't be right if you go to your friend's house to eat while you have a wife to cook for you at home. What do you want to eat?" I asked, trying to sound as sweet as I could.
"Anything. I don't care," he replied with indifference.
"Okay, habiby," I said with a satisfied smile. At least he would eat here.
He headed into the bathroom for a shower while I prepared the clothes he would wear. Afterward, I descended the stairs, giving him space. Minutes later, he came downstairs, and I served him Beans cake and custard.
I watched him closely as he devoured the food, acting like someone who hadn't eaten in days.
"So, how was it?" I inquired as he wiped his mouth after finishing the meal.
"It was okay," he replied, nonchalantly.
"Only okay? I saw how you ate it; I'm sure it was delicious, right?" I pressed, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.
"Must you question me about how your food tasted, Asmau?" he frowned.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't ask again," I said, rolling my eyes as I collected the plates and headed to the kitchen.
He's not the only one who could get upset, I could, too. In the kitchen, I washed the dishes and then returned to the living room, taking a seat.
"Daddy, Mummy is sick," Feeyah suddenly blurted out. I shot her a warning look, silently pleading with her to stay quiet.
"Is that true?" Abubakar asked, worry etching his face as he glanced at me.
"No, I'm not," I quickly responded.
"Mummy, you are of course. Tell him," Feeyah persisted.
"Safeeya, will you keep quiet?" I whispered, sternly.
"Asmau," Abubakar called, his voice filled with concern.
"Na'am," I replied, looking up at him.
"Come sit here," he patted the space beside him.
I stood up and walked over to him, taking a seat. His hand gently pressed against my forehead, checking my temperature.
"Your body is hot. I think you're coming down with a fever. Do you have a headache or anything?" he inquired with worry lining his voice.
"Yeah, I do have a headache," I admitted, my voice soft.
"Since when?" he asked, concern deepening.
"Since yesterday."
"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick?" He sounded genuinely worried now.
"Well, it didn't seem like you wanted to hear anything I had to say," I whispered, loud enough for him to hear, and he rolled his eyes.
"Get ready; we're going to the hospital," he ordered firmly.
"No, Abubakar, please. You know I hate hospitals, and if I take some Panadol, I'm sure the fever will go away," I tried to reason.
"Is this what you're going to say when you go into labor?" he shot back.
I shook my head, knowing he had a point.
"Then go get ready. I don't want to hear any more excuses," he asserted.
"Okay," I replied softly and made my way upstairs.
I took a few minutes to fix my makeup, draped my veil, and then descended to the waiting car.
I slid into the passenger seat, fastened my seatbelt, and we drove straight to the hospital, in tensed silence.
***
"It's nothing to worry about, but you should avoid stressing yourself out. It might affect the babies' health. You should continue taking your vitamins, and please, be more involved in your physical exercises," Doctor Aysha explained, warmly.
"Okay, Doctor, I will In shaa Allah," I replied, nodding in understanding.
"Good. So, I think that's all for now. I wish you a safe delivery, Asmau," she said, offering a warm smile that reassured me.
"Thank you, Doctor," Abubakar and I chorused in appreciation before we left the doctor's office and headed home.
Edited version✨