echoes of defiance (Rewriting)

chapter 28

Upon arriving at Incheon Airport, Zain collected his car from the parking lot, and we began our drive to Seoul. As the city skyline came into view, I suddenly realized how much I had missed being here—its energy, its rhythm, and, most of all, Mr. Demir's delicious chicken wraps. I couldn't wait to visit my favorite spots again. My friends, Özge and Ha Young, were also eagerly awaiting my return. I had promised them a surprise while I was in Nigeria, and they had been growing more impatient by the day, constantly texting me, asking what it was. I smiled at the thought of their excitement and our plans to meet in two days.

We finally arrived at Zain's building, a stunningly modern skyscraper that seemed even more magnificent than I remembered. He pressed the button for his floor, and as we ascended, I took in the luxurious surroundings. The last time I was here, six months ago, I had been too sick to admire anything properly. Now, I could fully appreciate the sleek design, the polished marble floors, and the breathtaking views. Everything about the place screamed elegance.

Zain carried my luggage to the closet before walking me around to show me the penthouse. After a brief tour, we decided to rest, as the morning flight had left us both a little weary. We showered and fell into bed, sleeping in until nearly 3 p.m. It felt so good to be back in our own space,

When we finally woke, we prayed together, our voices a quiet harmony in the serene atmosphere of the penthouse.Afterward, Zain headed out to grab some food, while I took another shower, feeling refreshed and ready to settle in. I chose a simple yet elegant home outfit, something comfortable but pretty. I applied a touch of kohl to my eyes and a gloss to my lips, tying my thick, long African curls into a messy bun. The apartment was spotless, thanks to the cleaning company Zain had hired, so I decided to unpack a few things. We could pick up the rest of my belongings from my old apartment later.

As I was unpacking, I began softly reciting my favorite Surah from the Qur’an. The peaceful rhythm of the verses flowed through me, calming my heart. That was when I felt it—the unmistakable sensation of being watched. I turned around slowly, and there he was, standing in the doorway, his eyes warm and full of something deeper than affection.

He smiled at me, his lips curving slightly as he caught up with the next ayah after the one I had just recited. I grinned back, continuing from where he left off, our voices intertwining as we moved through the Surah. We reached the last ten verses of Surah Al-Ahzab, and I gestured for him to finish. He did so, his recitation precise and melodic, filling the room with an almost ethereal peace.

When he finished, he glanced at me with that same tender smile. "Next time, we're reciting Surah Taha," he said softly.

I nodded, feeling an unspoken connection growing stronger between us. There was something so intimate in sharing moments like this—moments that weren’t about grand gestures but simple, quiet acts of faith together.

Afterward, we ate, savoring the food he had brought back, the warmth between us growing with every shared glance and word. Once we had finished, we headed over to my apartment to gather the rest of my things. Özge had already found another place, so we wouldn’t need to worry about keeping the old apartment any longer. To my surprise, we finished packing up everything rather quickly, and soon enough, all my belongings were settled at Zain’s place. It felt strange at first—moving in with him—but also incredibly right. This was the start of something new, something beautiful.

As the day came to a close, Zain prayed Shafa’i and Witr before heading to bed. He hadn’t made any moves or suggested anything beyond what I was comfortable with since that day Instead, he pulled me close, wrapping me in his arms as we lay in bed. His embrace was warm, protective, and for the first time in a while, I felt completely at peace. There was no need for words. His actions spoke volumes—his patience, his respect, and the way he held me without asking for more than I was ready to give.

As I drifted off to sleep, I realized how lucky I was to have him. Zain was a man of few words, but when he spoke or acted, it was with intention and depth. He loved me in ways that weren’t always grand or flashy, but in ways that were real, profound, and steady. And as I nestled into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be.