𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

41# MOTHER

SURULERE, LAGOS.
FEBRUARY, 2022.

"Assalamu alaykum", Ayman greeted as Rahma walked into the room.

"Wa alaykum salaam", she replied, wishing she didn't sound as breathless as she did. Behind her niqaab, her eyes were trying and failing, to stray away from Ayman.

The man was truly beautiful, she couldn't even lie.

"Your brother stepped out to get something", he said smiling.

Rahma found that she couldn't help but return his smile, even if he couldn't see it.

The reality of their situation wasn't lost on her though. Her brother wasn't in at the moment, and there was no proper guardian there with them. Everything in her screamed for her to leave, to go upstairs and leave Ayman's presence, but her legs just wouldn't move.

She kept standing at the doorway until Ayman realised she wouldn't go in.

"Uhh... I should catch some sleep", he lied, getting up from the chair.

In truth, he was in the middle of working on his system, and he looked very far from sleep.

Rahma couldn't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, seeing them respectful of her privacy only made him that much more endearing to her, and she couldn't help but fall one step deeper into her treacherous feeling for him.

On the other hand, she couldn't help the temptation she felt. She wanted to be able to sit with him like her brother did; to engage him in talks and hear his laughter.

She was a proper fool for even letting the thought cross her mind, but she couldn't help it.

It hurt her unimaginably to know that he was hurting from the consequences of loving another woman, even when she wasn't a woman in his eyes.

All she'd ever been was his friend's little sister. And while before, as a child, she could hang out with them as they played; that reality had become very distant.

Since she'd grown old enough to not be counted as 'one of the kids' anymore, she'd found herself lesser and lesser in Ayman's company.

When her brother had left for the university, she hardly even saw Ayman again.

However, in all of those years, Rahma had never thought her affection was unrequited; she'd always thought that Ayman shared similar feelings for her.

In retrospect, it could've been as a result of Ayman's personality. He was very bubbly, laughed a lot and would always tease people. And when he was talking to you, he'd always make sure his attention was undivided.

Everytime she'd talk to him in the days before she'd distanced herself, he'd turn off what ever he was doing to answer her, and when it was urgent, he'd finish up and come find her when he was done.

Rahma had been teased a lot growing up; because she was chubby and very light-skinned, she'd be called orobo and oyinbo by her friends, in ways that were mostly playful, but sometimes hostile.

Ayman would tease her too, but he'd always say the words as an endearment. He'd always tell her she looked fresh, or tell her, whenever she added a few extra pounds that it was a sign of good living.

She had a lot of beautiful memories with him; from playing fifa games with him and her brother, to tagging along with them for jumu'ah, to eating together. It was no wonder she'd grown a great deal of affection for him.

"Ayman", she called, pulling away from her thoughts. The man had already started to go back to his room.

"Stay. I'll go"