Over and Over

Viner

KANO,
NIGERIA.

LAYLA'S POV

The silence that filled the room was deafening. Hakeem stood across from me, his expression carefully controlled, but there was something in his eyes—a vulnerability he rarely showed.

It was as if he'd stripped himself bare, laying everything on the table, and now he was waiting for me to respond.

I couldn't. Not yet.

"I need... I need air," I muttered, my voice shaking.

"Layla—"

But I was already moving, my legs carrying me out of the library and into the garden beyond.

The crisp evening air hit my face, grounding me, but the tightness in my chest remained.

I paced aimlessly along the stone pathway, the scent of jasmine and roses doing little to calm the storm raging inside me.

How had everything spiraled so quickly? How had I gone from resenting Hakeem for what he did to standing here, grappling with the truth of a man I once thought I'd loved?

The sound of footsteps behind me made me stop. I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Layla," Hakeem's voice called softly.

I clenched my fists, my back still to him. "You shouldn't have followed me."

"And you shouldn't be out here alone," he countered, his tone gentler than his words.

I turned to face him, my eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Why do you care, Hakeem? Why do you care what I think, what I feel? You didn't care when you went to my parents and made them choose for me.

You didn't care when you—"

"I cared," he cut in, his voice firm. "I've always cared, Layla. You just never saw it."

His words hit me like a physical blow. "What are you talking about?"

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was giving me a chance to push him away.

When I didn't, he stopped just a breath away, his dark eyes locking with mine.

"I cared about you long before this marriage, Layla.

I cared about you when I saw the way you laughed with your friends, when I saw how you never let anyone take advantage of you, how you carried yourself with this quiet strength."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

"I went to your parents because I knew what Imam was," he continued, his voice softer now.

"I knew he wasn't who you thought he was, and I couldn't stand the thought of him hurting you.

Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but I did it because I couldn't imagine you with someone like him."

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"And now?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What do you want from me now?"

His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before meeting my eyes again. "I want you to see me, Layla.

Not as the man who ruined your plans, but as the man who wants to be by your side.

I don't want your love out of obligation—I want it because you chose me."

My breath hitched, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the cool night air.