Over and Over

Byte

KANO,
NIAGERIA.

LAYLA'S POV

"I can't believe I have to share a room with this neat freak," I complained, folding the clothes I had tossed on the floor earlier.

"I prefer my room messy; I feel dizzy when everything is super clean and tidy.

But no, you want everything organized, just like your face," I added reluctantly, folding the clothes Hakeem insisted I fold.

"Here, take this," I said, tossing his cap at him. He stood in the corner, cap in hand, looking at me in disbelief.

"Well, you will have to fold them," he said, emphasizing the name, Jasmine, with a smirk as he walked past me to the closet.

"I initially suggested that we have separate rooms, but no, you always have to get your way.

Fine, take the room; it's all yours," I said, throwing the hoodie I wore yesterday on the floor.

I was sitting on the floor, folding the rest of the clothes, when Hakeem approached and sat beside me.

He took my hijab, the one I use for prayer, to fold it.

"What do you think Ummu will say when she finds us in separate rooms?" he asked, fully focused on trying to fold the hijab.

"I suggested we move to 'our' house," he said, emphasizing the word "our."

"No, never," I replied firmly.

"Give me that; it's not your area of expertise, Mr. Prince," I said sarcastically, taking the hijab from him.

"So, do you prefer white, grey, or black walls?" he asked, plucking at imaginary grass on the carpet.

"I don't recall agreeing to any of this," I said, staring intently at him.

"Layla, it was never your decision to make. This was neither a request nor an opinion," he replied, his gaze as dark as ever.

I rose from my seat, sliding my feet into the worn slippers by the bed.

My heart pounded, echoing the frustration I felt.

No longer could I endure his arrogance.

Without a backwards glance, I escaped to the garden.

The gentle murmur of the fountain gave me peace.

As I neared the wooden chair by the fountain, a familiar voice broke through the serenity.

"Layla," called Ummu from the stairs, her wave a beacon in the distance.

I acknowledged her with a wave and prepared to approach, but she motioned for me to stay.

I brushed off the seat beside me, readying it for her presence.

"I went to your room, but Van said you were out here enjoying the fresh air.

So, I decided to join you," Ummu said, her smile warm and inviting.

Relief washed over me; he hadn't revealed my anger, sparing us both the awkward attempt at reconciliation.

A yawn slipped from my lips, betraying my hunger.

"Are you hungry, Lalla?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with concern.

Unable to deny it, I nodded, embarrassed.

Ummu snapped her fingers, summoning the helper standing nearby.

"Bring us a plate of couscous and tagine, and a cup of green tea for Layla," she instructed, her tone gentle yet firm.

As we waited, Ummu turned to me, her expression thoughtful.