ECHOES OF DEFIANCE

chapter 14

“Zain, I know, but right now, I don’t think Daddy will listen to you,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. His face was a mixture of hope and despair, and it tugged at my heart in ways I couldn’t describe.

He let out a deep sigh, nodding slowly. “I understand him. No one would want their child to be involved in something they don’t understand,” he replied, looking at me with such intensity. “But the only thing that matters is that I don’t lose you.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, his fear palpable, and it made my heart ache for him. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike the Zain everyone else knew. I blinked back the tears that were forming, feeling the weight of it all.

“Zain… what’s so important that you’d put yourself through all this for me?” My voice broke, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “We haven’t been together for long. You don’t have to put yourself through this stigma, this pain. You can walk away. You can move on.”

My tears began to spill over, and I quickly wiped them away, hating that he had to see me like this. He deserved better than my brokenness.

His face softened as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. “Farhana, you are the most beautiful thing in my life,” he said softly, his eyes holding mine with such sincerity that it hurt to breathe.

*Ya salam,* I thought, my heart pounding. *Is this some kind of obsession?* I didn’t know what to do with the overwhelming emotions swirling inside me, but I knew one thing: I had to protect him from himself.

“Zain, please go back home,” I said, my voice firmer now. “Shower, eat, sleep, and we’ll talk on the phone later. You need to take care of yourself.”

I was expecting him to argue, to resist, but surprisingly, he just nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. He didn’t even take his bike. He just turned and walked towards his house, which was next to Amma’s.

As I stood there watching him go, Ya Usman appeared, having witnessed the whole exchange. He walked up to me with a thoughtful expression.

“That’s messed up,” he said, shaking his head. “You know, unlike Nigerian men, foreign men don’t think expressing love is a weakness. Zain has been in love with you for longer than you think. He’s not going to give up anytime soon.”

There was a hint of worry in his voice, and I appreciated how much he cared about us both. He always seemed to know more than he let on.

“I can see that,” I muttered, still processing everything that had just happened.

“Go get your car,” Ya Usman instructed, “I’m driving Aunty Mairama somewhere. You can drive yourself back when you’re done.”

“Okay,” I replied quietly, still feeling the weight of the conversation with Zain as I went back to the house to get my car.

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Shopping with Ya Usman had always been one of my favorite traditions. Every six months, without fail, he would take Sadiq and me shopping. It wasn’t about how much he spent, but more about the gesture, the way he enjoyed spoiling us like the caring older brother he was.

Today was no different, except he didn’t even mention a budget this time. He let me pick out as much as I wanted, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him. He paid without hesitation, his usual calm and collected self, and we headed to the tailor for fittings.

Afterward, we made our way to Falmata’s. Ya Usman had to drive her mom for spa bookings for the bridesmaids, so they left shortly after we arrived. I hung around for a bit, but something didn’t feel right. I couldn’t shake the strange unease settling in my stomach, so I decided to head home early.