MINE (EDITED)

chapter 5

I walked upstairs to my room, my thoughts still swirling from the events of the day. The weight of it all—Muhammad, the proposal, my family's expectations—felt almost too much to bear. When I opened the door to my room, I found Ibty sitting on my bed, engrossed in her phone. I sighed, grateful for the distraction. Maybe she would help me clear my head.

"Ibty, guess what?" I said, attempting to sound casual, though I could feel the tension in my chest.

She barely glanced up, too absorbed in whatever she was doing on Instagram or Snapchat. "What's up?"

I took a deep breath before spilling everything—the meeting, the unexpected proposal, the whole whirlwind of emotions. And then, of course, I told her about him. The guy from Cold Stone. The one my family had introduced as a potential match for me.

Ibty's head snapped up, and her eyes widened with surprise. "Oh, wato yanzu kina so ba?" she asked, arching a single eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes, trying to avoid the topic that was quickly becoming a joke in my family. "I don't like him, Ibty. It's just... he's ridiculously handsome, mashallah."

I couldn't deny it. As much as I wanted to stay unaffected, the truth was that Muhammad's charm was undeniable. But I wasn't ready to admit that to anyone—least of all to myself.

Ibty raised her eyebrows, clearly not convinced. "What's his name again?"

"Muhammad Yerima," I replied, throwing my hands up in frustration, feeling completely out of my depth.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Layla! The Muhammad Yerima? The one those bloggers post as the 'most eligible bachelor' on Instagram?" Her voice pitched higher, a mix of disbelief and excitement.

I gave her a blank stare, pretending to be unimpressed. "I don't know, who knows for you?" I said, shrugging, though my insides were churning.

Ibty's mouth hung open, her excitement growing by the second. "It's him! Oh my gosh!" She clapped her hands in excitement. "Do you remember Ni'imah? From primary school?"

I froze for a second. Niimah. That name—Niimah Ibrahim Yerima. How could I forget? We'd been childhood friends, and now... now I was supposedly marrying her brother. The thought made my head spin.

"Yeah, I know Niimah," I replied slowly, a wave of realization washing over me.

Ibty nodded eagerly, as if confirming everything. "She's his sister."

Of course. The connection made sense now, but I couldn't believe it was all unfolding in such an unexpected way. The weight of it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Hmm, I remember now," I muttered, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

We continued talking, our conversation flowing easily from one topic to another, but my mind kept drifting back to Muhammad, to his eyes, to that smirk. The attraction was there, but it felt so complicated. I pushed those thoughts aside for the time being.

Before long, we prayed Asr together, and once she left, I returned to my laptop and resumed watching Reign, trying to distract myself from the chaos in my head.

When it was time for Maghrib, I went downstairs to join the family, as always, feeling the pull of responsibility. The house felt unusually calm, with Mammy, Norah, and Nabeel in the living room.

"Hey, Abla," Norah greeted me with a smile, her voice light and easy.

"Hello," I replied, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the storm of thoughts in my mind.

Anne soon left the living room to head upstairs, leaving me with Norah and Nabeel. I didn't feel like talking much, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to retreat to my room either. I sat down, pulled out my phone, and logged into Instagram.

The usual distractions helped ease my tension for a moment, but I couldn't ignore the way my heart beat a little faster whenever Muhammad crossed my mind.

"Leyloș, you know Niimah, right?" Nabeel asked, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Niimah Ibrahim Yerima," he added, almost as if the name held more weight than it should have.

I barely looked up from my phone as I nodded. "Oh yeah, my childhood friend."

"Yes, she's Muhammad's sister," Nabeel said, his voice a bit too knowing, as if this was all common knowledge.

For some reason, I didn't feel like engaging in another conversation about Muhammad. The more I heard about him, the more complicated everything felt. But Nabeel was relentless, and soon enough, I couldn't escape.

"Oh? It's been long. I can't remember the last time I saw her," I said, forcing the words out, trying to feign indifference.

But then, something shifted in my mind. Niimah. My Niimah. And that's when I remembered. Muhammad wasn't just some guy from Cold Stone. He was Muhammad Yerima, Niimah's brother.

"Muhammed'i unutmuştum," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. "I had forgotten about Muhammad"

Nabeel's grin widened, clearly enjoying the drama of the situation. "Allah Allah, now he's your fiancé," he said with a wink.

I just rolled my eyes. I didn't have the energy for his teasing.

"But he moved to the USA, maybe that's why you couldn't remember him," Nabeel added casually, as if the distance made everything easier to accept.

"Yeah, probably," I muttered, but inside, I was still trying to wrap my head around the reality of it all. Muhammad had been in my life all along, and yet I hadn't remembered him—until now.

Despite my best efforts to push the thoughts aside, I couldn't deny that something about the whole situation felt off. I loved my siblings, especially the guys. They always had a way of making things more complicated, but in a way, I needed them. They were a constant in my unpredictable world.

"Norah, you're not studying for your mock exams," I said to Norah, who was in the middle of her preparation for upcoming exams.

"I am," she said, her focus unwavering. "We're having practical catering tomorrow."

I smiled, relieved to see her so dedicated. "iyi. You better pass!" I said, teasing her a little, though my mind was far from the conversation.

We discussed various things, mostly revolving around the upcoming wedding, but I found it hard to stay engaged. My thoughts kept drifting back to Muhammad. The proposal. The future. What would happen now?

Eventually, I excused myself from the conversation, retreating to the solace of my room. There, I quickly changed into my favorite comfortable pajamas, the ones that always helped me unwind after a long day. I climbed into my bed, pulling the soft blankets up to my chin. The stillness of the room was a relief, and I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself a brief respite from everything swirling in my mind.

As I picked up my phone, messages from my friends lit up the screen. They were asking me how I was doing, how the day had gone, how everything was going with the wedding plans. I replied quickly, trying to seem upbeat, but my heart wasn't in it. I couldn't stop thinking about Muhammad.

I felt the weight of his presence in my life, despite how little I actually knew about him.

With a sigh, I set the phone down, turned off the lights, and sank into the comfortable darkness. As sleep began to pull me under, one thought lingered in my mind: What would tomorrow bring?

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✨Deedah✨