Over and Over

diffraction

KANO,
NIGERIA.

The grand hall was alive with laughter and chatter, yet Layla's eyes darted restlessly around the room.

She searched for Imam, but he was nowhere to be seen.

It was early morning, just after 8 a.m., and Hakeem sat in his sanctuary—the library.

The rich scent of leather-bound books surrounded him as he turned the pages of King of Diamonds by Renee Rose.

For a moment, he let himself get lost in the gripping tale, but the shrill ring of his phone shattered his peace.

Grimacing, he glanced at the screen. He'd forgotten to set it to Do Not Disturb.

"Assalamu alaikum," he greeted, picking up the call.

"Van, please hurry and come to the Emerald Garden," Ammi's voice was brisk but warm.

She hung up before he could respond.

Sighing, Hakeem set his book aside and headed downstairs.

The morning air was crisp, the sound of distant birdsong punctuating the silence.

As he approached the garden, he spotted her—Layla.

She was struggling to load luggage into the trunk, dressed in a light blue gypsy dress with a jersey veil that framed her face.

To anyone else, she might have looked modest and unassuming, but to him, she was undeniably captivating.

Layla wiped her brow, stepping back to admire her work. "Dada, I'm done.

Let's hit the road," she called, closing the trunk with a satisfying thud.

Turning, she froze when she saw Hakeem standing nearby, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his black sweatpants.

He wasn't smiling—he rarely did—but there was something in his eyes that made her cheeks flush.

"What brings his royal highness here?" she quipped, masking her discomfort with sarcasm.

Before Hakeem could respond, Dada excused herself, leaving them alone.

Layla smirked, folding her arms. "Finally, a day off from your rude face," she teased, inspecting her nails.

Hakeem tilted his head, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Layla wondered if her words had struck too deep.

Then, in a low, measured voice, he said, "Now, if you, single lady, would excuse me, I have important matters to attend to."

Her brows shot up. "Are you planning to find someone new now that I'm leaving?" she shot back, determined to have the last word.

He stopped mid-step, turning to face her with a smirk that sent her heart into a chaotic rhythm. "Let me reiterate—I'm not single.

I have to call my girlfriend. Oh, but you wouldn't understand... being a single freak."

The insult landed squarely, leaving Layla stunned. She recovered quickly, her voice sharp as she retorted, "Well, just so you know, I choose to be single."

Hakeem walked away, his laughter ringing faintly in her ears, leaving her fuming and replaying his words over and over.

LAYLA'S POV

The words "single freak" followed me throughout the four-hour journey to Abuja.

They echoed in my mind like a stubborn refrain, making it impossible to enjoy the ride.