Sadiya |REWRITING

Chapter Fourteen

***

ABUJA, NIGERIA.

Someone said, 'Mistakes are costly and somebody must pay.' She was the cause, she was to pay.

Words as such, did not need sugarcoating, it was a truth she never denied herself of. Whereas, someone also quoted, 'Laughing at our mistakes can lengthen our lives,' So she laughed; not because she wished for a long life, that was the last thing she could've wished for. A long life in a deep ocean of pain? A long life in a convoluted cell of hurt? A long life with constant images of her past that'd render her to a realm of regrets?

No, that was not it. She did not want that.

Thoughts of her baby, times with no count, penetrated themselves into her web of thoughts. Abortion. It was a choice, a choice she had the liberty for, but didn't patronize. And guilt. That feeling was like a slideshow each passing day. Every single thing of Yazid's, reminded her of the wrong path she chose to follow...or right, as Ramlah tried convincing herself futilely. The flutters in her stomach were a constant reminder, which left the lingering flakes of guilt in their wake.

Staring into the empty pools of the man's dark orbs screamed indifference, ignorance and whatnot. The soothing aroma of caffeine calmed her raging mind a tad, not so much as to rest her nerves completely. Imran was a nice guy when Ramlah met him—that was downright true. But, as she sat before him in the booth at the back of the café, he had clearly changed. Perhaps not a change, per se, maybe the real him was making his way into the obvious.

"You look tired," was his observation, the first few words he had said to her, that noon. A tinge of warmth spread in her chest—Imran did care after all. "I wouldn't want to be seen with you looking like...like a specter." And that, that was how the little spark of warmth vanished by his words. Ramlah circled her palms around the mug of her beverage, yearning for the moment to end. But if she wanted it to, she knew it had to be done.

"I'm still older than you, y'know?" That was another truth of the day. The man scoffed, or chuckled, she did not know what to term it as. The lingering smirk left off of his little display of emotion meant it was the latter. "Those weren't your words when you screamed my name, countless times." Ramlah squeezed her eyelids shut, he said things to draw emotions out of her, she willed herself not to grant him that satisfaction.

Imran was a sick person. It was obvious from the start, even with the mask he put on. And she chose to ignore it for selfish reasons. The first being revenge.

"Can you stop? I've got something to tell you."

The man, four summers younger than her, rolled his eyes. "Say it fast, I've got college to bother about." Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. If anything, Imran never gave a rat's arse about school, main reason his father sent him to one there in Abuja, instead of the overseas. His family was in Kano, they lived there, so his old man thought it was better sending him to school few states from there, than continents away.

Not that it made much of a difference, though.

Ramlah scrutinized him. If anything, he looked more relaxed than a man meeting up with a married hookup. It seemed to be...something he was used to. The news she was about to break to him though, no doubt wasn't.

"I'm pregnant."

Telling her ex hookup whom was still in college, that she was with his child was easier said than done. It was the hardest moment she had gone through. But, it was not over. Not when she had a husband that believed her lies. Yazid believed her. That thought made it hard for Ramlah to swallow the lump wresting her words. The past 15 weeks of her pregnancy were nothing short of pain and regrets. Yazid changed—he truly did. To her, he should not have. Not when she'd mentally laid out her motives.