Two Brothers, One Heart

Part 2: Chapter 80

It was Monday, the start of what seemed like an endless week as Islam returned to work. This week promised to be full of adventure and possibly her final one in the office.

Nadia stood beside her with her iPad, showing her something intriguing, "Look at how the book is gaining a lot of reads and buyers. I'm certain it's on its way to becoming a global bestseller."

"Insha Allah," she replied wearily as she had just returned from Nana's Podcast in Kadarko. She was interviewed about the inspiration behind her book and the advice she wanted to share with the public.

She felt proud that everyone was proud of her. After Nadia left to give her some space, she leaned back in her swivel chair, gazing at the book cover. It featured a monochrome image of a black girl dressed in tarred Ankara clothes. Ali did an amazing job creating such a captivating book cover.

As she began turning the pages, the first page displayed: "Dedication: This book is dedicated to Mama, you're so lovely and yet a workaholic."

Although Zaynab and Khalid were unlikely to read the book, Firdausi, the avid reader, would read it but not without teasing her about the characters and the people who inspired them.

Islam's novel attracted significant interest from TV series companies for a movie adaptation, but she remained uninterested, preferring to preserve the book in its original form. Aisha Sa'id's autobiography, though fictional, portrayed society's silencing of her voice and agency. The novel had a Northern Nigerian essence infused with foreign elements, creating a captivating and distinctive narrative.

Glancing at her watch, it was already eight-fifty, and she realized she hadn't accomplished much yet, having only been there for a few hours, mostly resting. Nadia kindly handed her a cup of coffee, alleviating the looming headache that threatened to overpower her.

Suddenly, a voice boomed, "Salamualaikum," revealing Usman's presence. Dressed in a stunning toupe kaftan and cap, his fuller beard and distinguished look added to his charm. With a tote bag in white and black stripes weighing down one hand and the other casually tucked in his trouser pocket, he exuded a captivating aura.

"Wa alaikumusalam," she replied, a bit curtly, trying to maintain distance and busying herself to avoid his company. Since their last encounter, she had been avoiding his calls and messages, creating a sense of tension between them.

"So you're still mad at me," he smirked, striding towards her seat and placing the tote bag down, filling the air with the enticing aroma of masa and hot wings, likely from Mystic Bistro.

"I'm not," she retorted, her voice laced with disgust as he encroached on her personal space, standing beside her desk with one hand resting on the desk and the other on her chair's cushion. Despite feeling uncomfortable, she hesitated to express her discomfort, fearing it would be seen as dishonesty.

Usman possessed a captivating presence, with his striking features drawing people in. His hooded brown eyes, rare and striking for a man of his background, along with his arched thick brows and prominent Roman nose, exuded a blend of youth and strength. She often found herself studying his features when he was lost in thought or in her dreams.

Swiftly changing the subject, she remarked, "we're not even married," in a casual tone, moving towards the sofa in the office's center, surrounded by shelves of books.

"So we'll be in not less than a week," he predicted confidently, settling down beside her after placing the tote bag on the center table. Though they weren't too close, her feet felt a chill, and a sense of unease crept over her, causing goosebumps beneath her hijab. Opting for an A-line Ankara dress with a hijab, she sought comfort and simplicity in her attire.