Barakah

- Vines

Note: The edited version of the Blow for Blow chapter has been published and I highly advise you reread it after this new chapter.

2) This chapter was heavily inspired by the Detty December season

3) This is the most explicit chapter I've ever delivered in this book. So be warned. It'll probably be the most explicit chapter in the entire book.

2/01/2025.

Barakah

Lagos was supposed to be her escape. When Asmau set up a conference call with her and Kulthum, casually asking if they wanted to spend a week in Lagos, she had assumed it would be just the three of them. She needed the break—desperately. So she listened, intrigued, as Asmau outlined the plan: a family friend was hosting a week long fashion show on the island, with invitations extended to high society to boost its profile. They'd attend two of the events to show support, then spend the rest of the week unwinding.

Barakah Amal did not ask questions, she immediately agreed. Because she was coming apart hard. And she refused to acknowledge the move even as she packed. She hadn't told anyone about Jalal's decision. Asma was delicate, she was desperate and her family seemed distant.

She informed Jalal that same night, in his room. Because the distance between them had matured naturally with every quarrel. To a point they did not need to be physically apart to feel distant from one another. He agreed despite the spontaneity of it all and only made one request, that she drop the kids off at her in-laws.

And she'd used it as an opportunity to make her plea to Hajja about Jalal's decision. The matriarch was taken aback, Barakah wasn't the only one hiding decisions from family, it seemed. Jalal hadn't confided in his family. And she had just shot herself in the foot. Because if his family were to confront him, he'd be of the mind that she had reported him when she'd only made a request on information she wasn't aware was withheld and she couldn't take the words back as much she couldn't tell Hajja what to do with the information.

She spent the night before her trip stiff in bed beside him, fretfully counting down every minute from the ornate wall clock in his bedroom until she was on that jet. She didn't want to fight with him. She honestly had no fight in her. So it came as an honest surprise to her the morning of the trip, to find that he had a bag on him too.

"You didn't tell me you were traveling?" She said.

He looked at her incredulously, "My sister didn't inform you that Mahmud roped the rest of us into it? AJ and Nuh are going to be there too."

"She did not." Barakah retorted, "I think she expected my husband to let me know. Considering we sleep in the same bed."

He let her have the last word. She leaned further back into her seat. The inconsistent beat of his fingers on the starring wheel at every red light scattering her thoughts. She considered her options. If she were to tell him now about her little slip, he could absolutely flip and turn the car around. If she told him in Lagos, he would ruin the rest of her trip. If she did not tell him at all and for once—in a long time—let herself be flippant, she would enjoy her time while it lasted.

She made her choice and would bear the crosses that would come with it.

"I'm disappointed in you Barakah." Mahmud was at her side the moment she'd stepped into the jet, "Here I was thinking you'd be the best example for Asmau but a trip without any mahrams." He looked offended at the thought.