UNENDING

18- Friend PT2

-ASIYA-

The early morning light filtered through the car windows as we drove towards Kaduna. The silence between Mubarak and me was heavy, broken only by the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of his shifting in the driver's seat. I could see the faint traces of sleep still clinging to his eyes, a testament to how early I'd woken him. I felt a twinge of guilt for disturbing him, but I was also profoundly grateful for his willingness to help me.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice a gravelly whisper, "You know, I think this is both good for you and completely insane."

I chuckled softly, trying to ignore the way my heart was pounding. "It will be fine," I assured him. "Sometimes you have to take a leap, right?"

He glanced at me, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Why didn't you just take me up on my offer to crash at my place for a while? That would've been safer."

I laughed, the sound light and a little bitter. "That's even more insane than this. Can you imagine Al-Qasim's reaction?"

Mubarak laughed too, a low, infectious sound. "My dad would disown me if he knew I let you stay over. He'd be all over me about my poor judgment."

I giggled at the thought of Mr Ahmed's furious face. "If he ever finds out you helped me run away, I think he'd disown you for sure."

"Then let's make sure not to get caught," he said with a wink. "What's your plan, anyway?"

I sighed, staring out the window at the passing scenery, my thoughts swirling. "I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that I want to live without fear for a change."

"Are you afraid Al-Qasim will come looking for you?" Mubarak asked, his tone laced with concern.

I shrugged, though he couldn't see it. "I don't know. I don't know if he'll come looking for me or if he'll just accept it and start a new life with Labiba. I guess I'll find out."

Mubarak nodded, understanding. "The woman I'm taking you to, she's an old friend of my mother's. After my mother passed away, she became something of a surrogate mother to me. She's kind and loving. She wouldn't mind having some company since her husband passed away and her children are all grown and living away."

"That sounds... comforting," I said, feeling a sliver of hope. "Thank you for doing this."

"No problem," he replied, his tone sincere. "You deserve some peace."

The trip continued in mostly comfortable silence, interrupted only by Mubarak's stops for roadside delicacies. I eyed the food warily, my stomach clenching at the thought of food poisoning.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.

Mubarak grinned. "It's fine. If you ruin my car, I'll just clean it up."

I slapped his arm, feigning offence. "How could you say that? I might get food poisoning!"

He guffawed, his laughter infectious. "I'm just kidding. It'll be fine."

For once, I felt a strange sense of freedom—free from judgment, expectations, and the crushing weight of my past life. It was a bittersweet liberation, but it was there.

When we finally reached our destination, Mubarak led me into a small house nestled in a rural village. The home had a quaint, welcoming feel. Outside, an elderly woman was drying clothes on a clothesline. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw us, and she scolded Mubarak.

"Look who finally decided to visit! It's been ages!" she exclaimed, her voice full of affection mixed with mild reprimand.

"I've been busy," Mubarak said, a sheepish grin on his face.