Life Without You✔️.

32: A Little Payback

Bibi's POV
Abuja, Nigeria.

I was still half-asleep when I heard a knock on the door. Soft. Two taps. I figured it was Khadijah as she usually brought up tea if I didn't show face by 9. But something about the rhythm of the knock felt...off. Like hesitation.
I pulled my robe tighter and cracked open the door.

It was Ayman. Holding a tray.

I blinked, lips parting, the shock rushing faster than my brain could catch up. I hadn't even opened my mouth when he spoke. "Can I come in?"

I nodded slowly, moving aside. He walked in quietly, not meeting my eyes and set the tray gently on my ottoman like it was glass. Eggs, French toast, strawberries. Karak.

"Eat something," he said, his voice low. "I made them myself."

"Thank you," I murmured, slipping into the bathroom before I said something dumb. It wasn't that I was ungrateful I was just weirded out. This was not Ayman. Not the Ayman who walked through me like I was fog. Not the Ayman who hadn't asked once if I was okay when I got sick. So, yeah. I ran. Toothbrush, cold water to the face, fifteen deep breaths.

I thought no, expected he'd be gone by the time I stepped back out. But he was still there. Sitting on the edge of the bed like he belonged. His eyes locked on me like I was an answer he couldn't read.

"Is everything okay?" I asked carefully, holding onto the towel like a lifeline.

"Nothing serious," he said, shaking his head. "Eat. We'll talk after." But he didn't move. Just sipped slowly from the karak mug in his hands. Still watching.

I sat awkwardly on the edge of the chaise. Nibbled on toast. Avoided his eyes. Then, he set the cup down with finality and leaned forward. "I have something to say," he began. "You don't have to respond. I just... need you to hear me."

I looked at him, heart crawling up my throat.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, like it burned to admit. "Not just for what happened with Bilkisu. Not just for choosing to look away when you were right in front of me hurting. After everything you were also going through. I'm sorry for being a coward. For making everything about me and not for once considering how this affected you. For acting like you were a burden instead of the person who even after all I have done is still here with me today."

I didn't move.

He ran a hand through his hair, words tumbling now. "You didn't deserve silence. You didn't deserve cold. You didn't deserve to be treated like you were the interruption in my life when all along, all you wanted was for me to pay attention and at least be present. And I—" he laughed, bitterly, "I broke you instead."

I could feel the lump forming in my throat.

"I didn't bring this," he said, nodding to the tray, "because I want to pretend things are fine. They're not. But this is my way of saying I want to try. I want to do now, not just speak. If you'll let me."

I couldn't speak. My fingers curled around the plate.

"I'll give you time," he added, standing slowly. "However long you need. I'll be here. Ready to listen."

He walked to the door, paused, then turned back.

"You matter, Bibi. Wallah, you do. I was just too stupid to see it." And with that, he left.

I didn't even know how long I sat there. But my fingers reached for my phone like muscle memory.

"Fayha?" I whispered when she picked up. "Ya Allah, you sound like you saw a ghost."