Over and Over

Contraction

KANO,
NIGERIA.

LAYLA'S POV

I turned willingly to see who it was, and to my extreme surprise, I saw Imam. "Oh my God, Imam, how are you here?" I exclaimed, hands over my mouth.

"This is the wedding I told you about," he replied, equally surprised. My reaction made it clear that I was delighted to see him.

"Imam, this is Hakeem, my friend. And Hakeem, this is Imam, my friend's brother," i said, trying to introduce them.

🦊🦊🦊🦊

The phrase "friend's brother" echoed in Imam's mind. "Why would she call me that?

Why didn't she refer to me as her friend? And why is she holding this man's hand?" he thought to himself, feeling a surge of jealousy.

He wanted to drag Hakeem away and pin him to the ground. He had never had the chance to hold Layla's hand; every time he tried, she avoided it. Yet, here she was, freely holding Hakeem's hand.

Layla's leg was hurting badly, and she couldn't find Dada anywhere.

After searching the hall with her eyes, she finally saw Dada approaching them.

"Layla, me ya sameki?" Dada asked, looking her over thoroughly.

"Dada, inawuni," said Hakeem.

"Hi, Dada," Imam greeted her. She was equally surprised to see him, thinking Layla had invited him. "Imam, what are you doing here?" Dada asked, surprised.

"I'm actually the groom's friend," he replied.

Dada turned to Layla and asked what had happened to her.

"Tazo fita daga mota sai ta gurde," Hakeem explained.

"Did something happen to her?" Imam thought, worried.

Hakeem then said, "She sprained her ankle." At that moment, it was as if Imam was possessed.

He pulled Hakeem away from her and knelt before her.

"Layla, why are you so careless? I always tell you to take care of yourself, but you always do what you want," Imam said, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Calm down, man. Are you her father or something?" Hakeem interjected, noticing how Imam was acting like a teenage lover.

Imam, completely losing his composure, stood up and approached Hakeem, fuming.

"No, I'm not her father, but I'm her lover!" he blurted out.

"What!" Everyone, including Layla, exclaimed in shock.

"Oh my, Imam, what did I just say?" he muttered to himself, realizing his outburst.

"I mean, I'm a well-wisher, nothing more and nothing less," he quickly corrected.

After Imam's dramatic moment, Layla's mom took her away. As Hakeem was about to leave, Ammi called him over.

She asked what had happened, and he explained. "So, Hakeem, what do you think about the girl?" she asked with a smile, watching him closely.

"Which girl?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Layla," she replied.

"Mom, you know I have a girlfriend, right?" he said.

"Van, we both know you don't like her and are only doing this for Maymun," she said.

"Ammi, please stop. I don't like her, and that's final," he said firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some friends to meet," he added as he walked away.

After the bride and groom arrived, the atmosphere in the hall became lively, with everyone dancing and having fun.

"Mashallah, look at that girl," Kabir said to Imam.

The playboy turned to see where Kabir was pointing, and to his surprise and disappointment, it was Layla. He couldn't stop staring at her.

His gaze locked on her, and he didn't realize he was staring until Kabir nudged him.

"Imam, calm down, bro," Kabir said as he started to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Imam asked, grabbing the side of Kabir's clothes.

"To that girl," Kabir replied, pulling himself away from Imam.

"No, you're not," Imam said, dragging him back.

He flinched and approached her, unable to hear the conversation over the loud music.

Finally, she smiled at him, which made Imam extremely angry and jealous. He didn't realize when he broke the glass cup in his hand.

Imam stormed out of the hall, the darkening sky threatening rain.

Layla noticed his furious departure and followed him, knowing what he was capable of in anger.

"Imam!" she called, but he kept walking. The rain began to fall, and she got a little wet.

He pulled up in front of her in his car. "Get in," he said, rolling the window up.

Inside the car, they sat in silence. She noticed his hand was bleeding.

"Imam, how did you get hurt?" she asked, quickly grabbing his hand.

"You made me get hurt," he replied, looking at the blood.

"Me? How and when?" she asked, examining the cut.

"Imam, this is your perfect opportunity," he thought to himself. He held her hand firmly, feeling emotional as he remembered Hakeem holding her hand.

She opened the glove compartment, took out a first aid kit, and began tending to his wound while his hand rested on her lap.

Although he was blushing inside, he maintained a tough exterior.

After dressing the wound, she handed his hand back. "Okay, bye," she said, opening the car door.

"Layla, aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Oh yes, thank you for reminding me," she replied. She pulled a marker from her bag and signed the bandage.

"Layla," he called as she was writing. "Hmm?" she responded.

"I like you," he blurted out.

"Thank you, I like myself too," she replied, closing the marker.

This girl was driving him crazy. "Layla," he called, holding her hand.

She looked at him with those eyes that made him forget everything.

"Layla, I know I might be a player, but trying to stay single and focus on myself failed when I saw your beautiful eyes and gorgeous smile."

"What do you mean, Imam?" she asked, pulling her hand away from his.

"I love you, and I want to be with you," he confessed.

She pulled her hand out of his grip again.

"No, Imam, that can never be possible. We are just friends and nothing more," she said with a straight face, showing no emotion.

"Layla, I can't be just your friend. The depth of my love won't allow it," he said in a very low tone.

She was speechless and emotionless. "Well then, it's over between us," she said, getting out of the car.