WARNING: This chapter contains multiple POV's. You may proceed💗.
Bibi's POV
Abuja, Nigeria
It was our last day at the hospital, and for the first time since I'd woken up after the fall, I felt like breathing didn't take so much effort.
Ayman had gone home early that morning and returned dressed in a fresh white kaftan that smelled faintly of oud and soap. He carried a small bag in one hand and walked in with that quiet energy he always had—firm, present, careful.
"Ready to go home?" he asked, kneeling slightly to meet my eyes. His voice was soft, like he was still afraid I might break again if he spoke too loud.
I nodded slowly, trying not to wince. "I think so."
He helped me sit up, adjusting the pillows behind me, then reached into the bag and pulled out a fresh dress. Soft cotton, deep blue. Simple, but elegant. I recognized it from my wardrobe back home.
"I figured you might want to wear something comfortable," he said, and I smiled, touched by the thought.
"Thank you," I whispered, holding onto the piece of clothing.
He turned away as I changed, but not before setting everything neatly for me—my scarf and a small comb. Though I don't think I have it in me to actually want to comb my hair right now, with everything going on with it. When I was done, I cleared my throat and he turned back, his gaze sweeping over me gently.
"You already look like yourself again," he murmured. "I'll just go get the nurse and sign the discharge papers so we can be on our way," he informed me before stepping out again.
These past two days, Mama and Aunty Shafa have been all over me, but no matter how much they tried to convince Ayman to go home and rest, he refused. I knew he was blaming himself for everything, and no matter how many times I've tried to explain to him that he isn't at fault, he refuses to even listen to what I have to say.
And since he wasn't going anywhere, they sent us lunch and dinner for the two days we'd spent in the hospital. He hadn't been going to work as well—perks of being a business owner. His friends came to see me, and Aunty Maimuna and Uncle Faiz called every day to ask how I was doing.
He returned almost fifteen minutes later, and the doctor gave us final instructions and a soft warning.
"Please take it easy for the next few weeks. No sudden movement. No stairs."
After making sure everything of ours was in the car, Ayman returned with a wheelchair and insisted I sit in it, even though I protested.
"Please, Bibi, let me do this part." His tone didn't allow for argument. So I gave in.
He wheeled me out like I was made of glass, pausing every now and then to adjust the angle or shield me from sunlight. At the car, he opened the door and helped me in like I was royalty. And for the first time in days, I didn't feel like a burden.
The ride home was quiet. He kept glancing over at me as if to make sure I was still breathing.
When we pulled into the compound, Khadijah came running out. Her eyes welled up with tears the moment she saw me.
"Aunty, sannu da dawowa, Welcome back." she exclaimed, nearly hugging me before Ayman stepped between us gently.
"Careful," he said. "She still has injuries."
"I'm glad you're doing okay," Khadijah whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks as she led us inside.
YOU ARE READING
Life Without You✔️.
Romance{Completed} Copyright © 2020 Nadia Ahmad Lawal, known as Bibi, is a young lady filled with hope and love, despite being raised by just her mother after being abandoned by her father as a baby, Bibi's world is turned upside down when she discovers he...
