Over and Over

refraction

KANO,
NIGERIA.

LAYLA'S POV

The rain had left its mark, chilling my bones and dampening my spirit, but nothing stung more than his words.

"I love you, and I want to be with you." I had rejected him, firm and resolute, yet every step I took away from Imam felt like dragging a piece of my heart behind me.

"Layla!" His voice broke through the silence, desperate and raw.

I stopped, the weight of his anguish freezing me in place. My hands trembled, but I didn't turn around.

He was behind me in an instant, his footsteps uneven, betraying his turmoil.

"Layla, please, look at me," he begged, his voice cracking like a fragile pane of glass.

I didn't move.

"Fine," he said after a moment, his tone softening to a plea. "I'll be your friend—just your friend.

But please, don't shut me out like this. Don't... punish me."

His words wrapped around me like the cold air, each syllable heavy with sincerity.

Slowly, I turned, and my breath caught at the sight of him.

Tears streamed down his face, unchecked, raw, and unashamed.

"Imam..." I whispered, my voice faltering. Without thinking, I lifted my hand to his cheek, trying to wipe away his tears.

But he caught my hand mid-air, holding it firmly. "Stop," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

"If you keep doing this, Layla... I'll fall for you all over again."

The weight of his words hung between us, suffocating.

He let go of my hand as if it burned him, stepping back before I could say anything.

His shoulders slumped as he turned away, walking into the night, leaving me standing there—alone, drenched, and conflicted.

———

The fever came swiftly that night, the rain exacting its revenge on my body.

My head pounded, and my limbs felt leaden as if the universe conspired to remind me of every reckless decision I'd made that day.

Dada and Ammi hovered anxiously, pleading with me to take my medicine, their voices a blur.

I hated medicine. And I hated the worry in their eyes even more.

NARRATORS POV

Hakeem was halfway down the corridor when the commotion by the door caught his attention. His sharp gaze flicked to Zubair.

"What's going on over there?" he asked, his tone as commanding as ever.

Zubair shifted uncomfortably. "Your Highness, I'm not sure—"

"Then let's find out," Hakeem said, striding towards the door.

The servants scattered like leaves in the wind as he approached, Zubair trailing behind him.

Inside, the scene was chaos. Layla's mother was gently pressing her back onto the bed while Ammi tried to coax her to take her medication.

Layla, defiant as ever, was having none of it.

"What's happening here?" Hakeem's voice cut through the tension like a blade.

Ammi turned to him, relief evident in her expression. "Van, please. She won't take her medicine.