Part 2: Chapter 91

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This chapter is dedicated to our one and only Aunt Raqiya - the most compassionate woman in my book.
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"Looking after yourself and ring me up when you hit Abuja," Islam reminded Habibah from the backseat of the car. Khalid was steering them home to Abuja ahead of the weekend wedding.

Zaynab, Islam, Firdausi, and Yasin were set to arrive the following day, just a day shy of the big day. The morning was cool after a hearty breakfast of tea, bread, and eggs.

"May Allah protect you," Zaynab whispered, blowing Khalid a kiss, met with his charming smile.

"Ameen," they chorused, as Khalid reciprocated the gesture, exchanging smiles with Islam and Firdausi. Firdausi, in her cozy pajamas, and Islam, elegant in a belted maxi dress with a light kimono, added to the tranquil morning scene.

Yasin dozed off, a relief for Zaynab, knowing he'd pester her about leaving, especially with his current bout of malaria. This bought her time to keep him home.

Zaynab shared the wedding reception details at Transcorp Hilton, inviting a host of colleagues and school pals. As the car halted, she announced, "I ain't looking for a lavish wedding, Mama."

Zaynab, beaming, replied, "My firstborn, my sunshine, heading off. Can't blame me for feeling a bit sentimental," as Islam blushed at her mother's heartfelt words.

"Usman will be coming to pick me up, gotta check on Ali," Islam mentioned.

"Make sure you stay low-key, blend in with camo gear," Zaynab advised, strutting in her chic plum maxi dress paired with a scarf.

Islam hurried upstairs to ponder her look, opting for a Panama hat and shades to stay incognito amidst the media frenzy. Being a wealthy man's daughter was the toughest lesson she'd learned in her three decades.

"Rockin' the shades and hat," teased Firdausi, leaning against the doorframe with folded arms.

"I'm boxed in," Islam sighed, raising her hands in surrender before seeking advice, "Lip gloss or lipstick for the wedding makeup?"

"If you want that classy simplicity, go gloss; for a touch of glam, opt for lipstick. It's all on you. Oh, and your man's downstairs waiting," Firdausi remarked before exiting.

After a final glance, Islam descended to the living room where Usman sat, dapper in a grey long-sleeved shirt and khakis, sipping tea offered by Firdausi. His demeanor was so relaxed, almost like he was already part of the family.

"Salamualaikum," she greeted as he turned to look at her, her heart freezing from guilt, almost as if she hadn't been the one pouring her heart out to his brother moments ago, confessing her love for him. The glasses provided a shield for her guilty eyes.

"Wa alaikumusalam," he replied, a smile playing on his lips at her camouflage.

"In case of in casity," she shrugged as they made their way out of the house to his waiting car.

Settling comfortably in the seat and securing her seatbelt, they drove out of the garage towards the hospital. Peering through the tinted windows, she felt a sense of unease settle within her.

While gazing at the passing cityscapes, she suddenly noticed his hand reaching for hers. This familiar gesture usually elicited a response from her, but this time, overwhelmed by guilt, she found herself at a loss for words. She withdrew, leaning closer to the door, and observed the visible strain in his eyes, a clear sign of the stressful days he had endured.

"Won't you ask why I despise him?" inquired Usman, breaking the heavy silence. She studied his weary brown eyes, where a mix of guilt and loathing battled for dominance. Curiosity danced in her gaze, urging him to reveal his truth, yet he remained silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them like a dense fog.

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