Over and Over

lily

EL-BAAZ MANSOR,
KANO.
NIGERIA.

NARRATOR'S POV

Maymun sat alone on the edge of her bed, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

The room was quiet, yet her mind was unbearably loud.

Layla's face replayed over and over—hurt, stunned, silent. The words Maymun had thrown at her earlier now felt heavier, uglier, sharper than she had intended.

"I shouldn't have said that," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Guilt crept into her chest, tightening with every breath.

She stood abruptly, resolve replacing hesitation.
"I need to apologize."

Stepping into the corridor, she nearly collided with Hakeem, who had just entered from outside.

"Hakeem," she called quickly, relief flickering through her. "Where is Layla?"

He didn't stop.

Didn't slow.

Didn't even acknowledge her existence as he walked straight past.

Her brows furrowed. "Hakeem?"

Still nothing.

Annoyance mixed with panic. She raised her voice. "Hakeem!"

This time, he stopped.

Slowly, he turned around.

"What?" His tone was flat. Cold.

"Where is Layla?" she asked again, softer now, stepping closer. "Please."

He exhaled deeply, rubbing his jaw as disappointment etched itself clearly across his face.

"Do you want to irritate her even more, Maymun?" he asked quietly.

The words stung more than a shout would have.

"I never expected that from you," he continued. "I'm... highly disappointed."

He turned and walked away, leaving her frozen in the corridor.

The weight in her chest doubled.

⸻

LAYLA'S POV

Six weeks.

That was how long I had been in Abuja.

Six weeks of noise, movement, family, laughter—anything to keep my mind busy. Between Yasmin's wedding preparations and endless family visits, the days passed quickly, but the nights were another story.

I carried a secret with me everywhere.

One I hadn't even dared to share with Yasmin.

Hakeem.

The thought of her finding out—and worse, telling Imam—made my stomach twist. I needed to deal with Hakeem first. On my own terms.

Today, Hammad was arriving from Europe.

He used to live with us when we were younger, before life scattered everyone in different directions.

I went to the airport with Dada, my heart lighter than it had been in days.

The moment Hammad spotted me, he dropped his bag and ran.

"LAYLA!"

He wrapped his arms around me without hesitation, lifting me slightly off the ground.

I laughed despite myself. "Hammad, put me down!"

For a split second, a ridiculous thought crossed my mind.