DREAM GIRL

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jeedarh POV

One month before the wedding, I was enjoying a relaxing weekend at home, taking a break from work due to my medical conditions. I was chatting with Ash on the phone when Walida interrupted, saying my mom wanted to see me. I wondered what could be wrong, so I ended the call and headed to her room.

As I entered, I saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. She looked worried, and I could sense her distress. I knelt beside her and asked, "Mom, you called?"

She nodded, her voice trembling. "Yes, Jeedarh, I need to discuss something important with you. But please forgive me, as what I'm about to say might make you hate me."

I reassured her, "No matter what, I can't hate you, Mom. You're still my mother."

She began to explain how she got married to my dad, Khalid. She told me about her friendship with Khadijah, how they were inseparable despite their age gap. But things took a turn when Khalid's mother pressured him to take a second wife due to Rahmat's inability to conceive. Rahmat, feeling betrayed, persuaded Khalid to marry again, thinking it would bring peace to their marriage.

However, Khalid ended up marrying Khadijah, Rahmat's best friend, without her knowledge. Rahmat felt betrayed and angry, refusing to speak to Khadijah or give her a chance to explain. Meanwhile, Khadijah was oblivious to Khalid's marriage to Rahmat and was shocked when she found out.

After six months of marriage, Khadijah became pregnant with me, but her condition was critical, and the doctor advised her not to get pregnant again. As my mom finished her story, I was left reeling, trying to process the complex web of relationships and emotions.

Authors POV

the night her mom was to be discharged from the hospital after giving birth , But fate had other plans. She suffered a convulsion, and despite the doctors' best efforts, she slipped away, leaving jeedarh behind.

Jeedarh POV

As I sat there, my stepmom's words poured out like a confession. She spoke of my father's overwhelming grief after my mother's sudden passing, and how it had hurt her to see him so consumed by love for another woman. She wondered aloud why he had loved my mother more, why his desire for a child had seemed to supersede his love for her.

She revealed to me how she had taken care of me after my mother's death, and how she had eventually given birth to my brother. Her voice was laced with a mix of emotions - happiness, sadness, and a hint of regret. She spoke of my father's promise to her, to take care of me and treat me as her own, and how she had kept that promise until now.

As she spoke, I could sense the weight of her words, the burden she had carried for so long. She apologized, as if seeking forgiveness for secrets kept and truths revealed. But I just wanted to leave, to process everything she had told me. "Don't worry, mom," I said, cutting her off. "It's not your fault. That was your past. I have no problem with it. Can I go now?" I asked, needing space to absorb it all. She nodded, and I left, her words echoing in my mind.

As I walked out of my mom's room, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I felt like I never really knew my mom, and it hurt me to think that she might not understand how her actions have affected me so deeply. I just wanted to clear my mind and forget about everything, but the pain lingered.

Ash had been calling me nonstop, but I couldn't bring myself to answer. What was the point, anyway? I just wanted to be happy, and that's all that mattered to me right now.

I had plans to meet up with the girls today, and I was excited to take my mind off things. I got dressed quickly, putting on a beautiful onion-colored Abaya and my high heels. I grabbed my handbag and rushed out of the room, not wanting to run into my mom. She wasn't in the right state of mind, and I didn't want to deal with her drama.

As I met up with the girls, I was surprised to see that we were all wearing matching outfits. It was perfect timing, as we had planned a mini picnic for ourselves. The weekend was finally here, and I was ready to let loose and have some fun with my friends. No more tears, no more sadness. Just us, enjoying each other's company, and making unforgettable memories.

We've been chatting and laughing, forgetting all our worries. But then, my stomach starts growling, and I exclaim, "Gosh, I'm so hungry! Please, girls, can we stop all this chit-chat? My stomach is crying!" I pull the food closer, earning a playful glare from the girls.

As we dig in, I squeal with delight, "Omg, we have fried rice, chicken, go-slow, jollof macaroni, pizza, milkshake... this is too good!" We spend the next hour eating and snapping photos. I decide to share them with Ash, and as soon as I do, he calls me. I'm not surprised; I know he was worried about me for not picking up earlier.

"Hey, Ash, I'm really sorry for not picking your call," I say, pouting like a baby. But instead of scolding me, he simply stares at me, smiling, and says, "You look so pretty." I'm taken aback, expecting him to be upset. "Seriously? I thought you were going to scold me," I reply.

"Who am I to do that?" he says. "Seeing you right now made me forget whatever I had to say." He tells me to take care of myself and that he loves me before hanging up.

I join the girls again, and Nabeelah pulls out her mp3 player, suggesting we make a video to her favorite song, "Olorun" by Ayra Starr. I love the song too, and we spend the next hour singing and dancing. Today was really fun, and as soon as I get home, I pray, shower, change into my pajamas, and drift off to sleep.