Asiya froze on the staircase, her heart pounding erratically against her ribs. Every word that passed between Fahad and Ibrahim had struck her like a thunderclap. Fahad’s biting remarks still rang in her ears, followed by Ibrahim’s steady, measured rebuttal. It was too much, too overwhelming, and the air around her felt heavy, almost suffocating.
Her wide, startled eyes locked with Ibrahim’s as he stood at the base of the stairs. His expression shifted instantly—shock, shame, and anguish flitting across his face as he realized she had overheard everything. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
Asiya’s gaze hardened. Without a word, she turned sharply, her laffaya swishing with the movement, and began to walk away. Behind her, voices rose in protest.
“Asiya, wait! Please, just listen to me!” Fahad’s voice followed her, laced with desperation. He hurried after her, his footsteps hurried and uneven.
She stopped abruptly, spinning on her heel to face him. The fury in her eyes was unlike anything he had ever seen. “Me zakace? Huh? What excuse do you have this time?” Her voice shook, not just with anger but with the raw ache of betrayal. “I heard everything, Fahad. Da gangan ka shareni saboda kanuna wa Ibrahim wani abu?!”
Fahad flinched, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Asiya, no, it’s not what you think—”
Her sharp, bitter laugh cut him off. “Not what I think? Do you take me for a fool?” Her voice trembled, the betrayal cracking through her like thunder. “You ignored me deliberately. And I was stupid enough to care about you!”
“Asiya, I swear, I—”
“Don’t!” she snapped, stepping back as though his words physically repulsed her. “I already heard enough.” Her voice softened, now tinged with pain. “I overheard some girls talking about how you dated almost every girl in our class. I didn’t believe them. I came to you to ask about it, to give you a chance to explain yourself, and this—” She gestured around them, her voice breaking. “This is what I walked into.”
Fahad opened his mouth, but no words came. His silence said more than any apology could.
She stepped away from him, her movements deliberate, her back straight despite the heaviness in her chest. “Stay away from me, Fahad,” she said coldly. And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, crushed and powerless to stop her.
Ibrahim had watched it all unfold from the shadows, his heart aching for her. He had never wanted her to find out like this. Never wanted her to experience the pain of discovering the truth in such a cruel manner. But what could he have done?
---
Later that day, Ibrahim found Rukayya and Kay in the courtyard. The usually calm and confident young man was visibly shaken, his jaw tight, his movements restless.
“Asiya ta gane waye Fahad,” he said, his voice strained. “And I’m afraid she’ll think we were all in on hiding it from her.”
Rukayya’s eyes widened in alarm. “Innalillahi. Ibrahim, are you sure she knows everything?”
“Yes. She heard everything Fahad said,” Ibrahim confirmed, running a hand through his hair. “We should’ve told her the truth. Now, she probably thinks we’re all hypocrites.”
Kay, ever the pragmatist, bit her lip. “She’ll feel betrayed, no doubt. But she has every right to.”
---
They found Asiya in the library, sitting at a secluded table. She had a book open before her, but her eyes weren’t reading. Instead, she stared blankly at the pages, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on the table.
Rukayya approached first, her heart sinking at the sight of Asiya’s tear-streaked face. “Sia,” she said softly, her voice almost breaking. “We’re so sorry. Wallahi, we should have told you.”
Asiya’s gaze lifted to meet hers, and the sheer depth of her pain struck Rukayya like a physical blow. “Meyasa kuka boye mun?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable.
Kay stepped in, her tone pleading. “We didn’t want to hurt you. And we didn’t want Fahad to feel betrayed. But we were wrong. Kiyi hakuri, Asiya.”
Asiya inhaled shakily, her lips trembling as she fought to keep her composure. “I trusted you both. Wallahi, bande ji dadi ba. It hurts.”
Rukayya’s voice cracked. “We’re so sorry, Sia. Please, forgive us.”
Asiya looked at them for a long moment before nodding faintly. “I forgive you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need time. I need to think.”
---
That evening, Asiya sat with her elder sister, Ya Mariya, in her room. The quiet comfort of her sister’s presence allowed Asiya to pour out her heart.
“Ya Mariya,” she began, her voice thick with emotion, “Fahad toyed with me. And now, I think…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I think I might be falling for Ibrahim.”
Ya Mariya raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“Ibrahim… he’s so different. He’s kind and thoughtful, but—” Asiya’s voice cracked, “I don’t even know if he feels the same way.”
Ya Mariya reached for her sister’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Asiya, maybe you should step back. Take time for yourself. Whether it’s Fahad or Ibrahim, you need to be sure. Don’t rush your feelings.”
Asiya nodded. “You’re right, Ya Mariya. I just— It’s so hard.”
---
The next day, school was a minefield. Asiya avoided Fahad entirely and chose a seat beside Kay instead. She felt Ibrahim’s gaze on her throughout their lecture, the weight of it making her pulse quicken. When the lecture ended, she hastily gathered her things, hoping to slip away unnoticed.
But Ibrahim was quicker. He caught up to her just as she stepped outside. “Sia,” he called softly. “Can we talk?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
They moved to a quieter corner of the school. Ibrahim’s expression was a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I’m sorry for everything,” he began. “I never wanted you to find out like that.”
Asiya’s eyes searched his. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Fahad?”
He hesitated, then said quietly, “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to sabotage your relationship… because of my feelings.”
Her breath hitched. “Your feelings?”
Ibrahim nodded, his gaze steady yet nervous. “Yes, Sia. I like you. More than a friend. But I didn’t want to complicate things for you.”
Asiya felt a warmth flood her chest, her heart racing. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to say anything now,” he replied. “Just know that I care about you. Deeply.”
That night, Asiya stared at her phone, Ibrahim’s number in her hand. After a long moment, she sent him a message.
Asiya: Hi, Ibrahim. It’s Sia.
Ibrahim: Hey, Sia. How are you?
Their conversation stretched late into the night, each word building a bridge between their hearts.
Days passed, and though they tried to be discreet, their growing bond was evident to anyone paying attention. Every glance, every shared smile, spoke of something unspoken yet undeniable.
For Asiya, it felt like falling into the unknown. For Ibrahim, it felt like coming home.
YOU ARE READING
fated hearts
Romanceasiya and Ibrahim fall in love back in secondary school circumstances forced them to separate. 5years later asiya is now a mother of 1 and wife of an abusive business tycoon who is a heavy drinker, a womaniser, as chaos engulfs her life she cross...
