Over and Over

sync

EL-BAAZ MANSOR,
KANO.
NIGERIA.

LAYLA'S POV

My eyes blazed with anger as I turned to Hakeem. "Excuse you, I'm not your wife. Stay within your limits. I don't think I could ever accept you, I love someone else, not you," I said, my voice sharp and unyielding.

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my bag and left the room, determined to leave no room for misunderstanding.

As I stepped into the hallway, Rayhana bounded toward me, laughter in her eyes.

"Sister-in-law! I'm so glad you're back!" she exclaimed, hugging me tight.

"Rayhana, please—" I started, but she interrupted, her smile unshakable.

"Okay, I won't call you that again," she promised, still grinning.

I shook my head, trying not to smile, and headed to my room. I freshened up, organized my wardrobe, and ate quietly in my room, trying to focus on anything but Hakeem.

⸻

At dawn, I prayed Subhi, washed up, and dressed in my white abaya. My white veil was missing, but Samira, ever efficient, handed it to me with a smile.

"Here, ma'am."

"Thank you," I murmured, collecting it.

I stepped out toward the dining area.

"What would you like to eat, ma'am?" Asiya asked, her tone polite.

"Anything, please," I replied, draping the veil over my shoulders and swinging my ponytail behind me as I walked away. After finishing, I went outside to meet the new driver.

My jaw dropped. Three massive cars were parked before me: two grey BMW vans flanking a sleek black BMW Series 3 in the middle.

Before I could react, James stepped forward and opened the door of the middle car.

I froze. Hakeem was inside.

"You!" I exclaimed, my pulse spiking.

"What?" he replied calmly, eyes glued to the newspaper, completely unbothered.

I opened the door to leave, but his hand shot out, gripping mine. My protest caught in my throat as he pulled me back in.

Our eyes locked for a brief, charged moment—like magnets snapping together—before I forced myself to look away.

The car ride was silent, the tension thick enough to choke on.

"Hakeem," I whispered finally, "please reconsider this... relationship. I don't like you. Let me be free."

He didn't look up, tapping on his iPad. "Allah knows, and I know, this relationship ends only in marriage. We will not separate."

I pressed my forehead to the window, whispering, "Why?"

"You want to know why?" he said, voice calm and deliberate. "Because I want you."

I hissed through clenched teeth and turned back to the window, the minutes stretching endlessly.

"Please... stop here," I murmured as the school gates drew near.

"No," he said firmly. "We are stopping at the school gate."

I swallowed my pride, pleading softly, "Please, just this once..."

He glanced at me, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "I have to take care of what's mine."

I flared with fury, tugging at the veil over my shoulder. "You don't own me! You never will!"

He reached out, ruffling my hair playfully. "Well... I'm yours, whether you want me or not."