MY LIFE AS A STEPMOM🖤✅|COMPLETED

34-THIRTY FOUR💙

ASMAU

I heard the murmur of voices around me. Confusion clouded my senses as I slowly opened my eyes, squinting against the bright hospital room's light. I groaned softly, my head throbbing. I turned my head and noticed Abubakar sitting nearby, a bruise marring the side of his face.

"Asmau," he called softly as I tried to sit up. He helped me, gently. "How are you feeling?" he asked when he realized I wasn't ready to talk.

"I'm fine," I replied, my gaze fixated on the window, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his apology hanging in the air.

"That's all you ever say. I don't want to hear your apologies anymore. Just tell me why I fainted?" I finally looked at him, searching for answers.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, ignoring my question.

"Tell me what?" I asked, utterly confused.

"That we are expecting a baby."

I blinked in surprise, my heart racing as a rush of emotions flooded over me. "I didn't know," I managed to say, a smile forming on my lips, as I remembered Ya Aminah's questions about pregnancy just the other day, and how I had denied it.

"Oh really? Well, I thought you knew. I'm so happy to hear that we're expecting another baby, my love. Thank you," he said, ecstatically. Yet, silence hung between us again.

"What you did earlier could have harmed our child, you know that, right? Your jealousy and anger led to a scene and a fight with the doctor. What if something had happened to our baby? I'm just relieved that nothing did. Otherwise Abubakar, I would have never forgiven you," I glared at him, my voice filled anger.

"I made a mistake. I did it out of jealousy and anger, Asmau. I didn't mean to. Please understand me. I would never think of hurting you," he pleaded.

"Hurt me?" I chuckled bitterly. "Abubakar, I think you've hurt me a hundred or a thousand times now. Maybe not physically, but emotionally, you've broken me so many times. You've hurt me by choosing your ex-wife over me."

"I never chose anyone over you, Asmau," he argued.

"Yes, you did. How many times have I complained for you to set boundaries with Iman? But you never did because, in your eyes, my opinion didn't matter. You always thought I was just being jealous and insecure, right? And now, look, Iman is the reason I left my own house, I left my kids because I had no choice. Do you think it's easy? Yet, you're here causing trouble for me. What do you want me to do? I already have enough problems. My mother is in a coma, and we don't know when she's going to wake up. My marriage is in shambles just because of one woman. Your ex-wife is and always has been our problem. It's too much for me to handle, Abubakar. What do you want me to do? Am I at fault because I chose to get married to you?" I cried, finally venting all my pent up anger.

"Asmau, you are not at fault, but I swear, what you saw at the office wasn't my fault. She kissed me, and before I could react, it was too late, and you saw everything," he explained.

"Okay, let's say you didn't kiss her but she kissed you. Please answer this, Abubakar. How many times have I told you that Iman wanted you back? That woman wasn't to be trusted. But you didn't listen to me; you turned a blind eye and went with the motion that she came back for the sake of the kids. You never believed me but chose to believe her instead. I was insecure because I knew you had some feelings for her—"

"Don't say that. I never felt any love for Iman because I only love you, Asmau. Yes, I made a mistake by believing Iman, but I swear I don't feel any love for her. I only felt pity for her," he insisted.