The Price Of Revenge

Twelve

"Momi, have you two spoken about your marriage?" she asked for the sixth time that day.

"No, we haven't," he replied, keeping his eyes on the road. "And I don't think I want to."

"You have to." She adjusted her hijab and leaned back in her seat. "The wedding is approaching fast. You two only have a month left, and I've already started helping with the preparations."

She placed her phone on the dashboard.

"Momi, don't keep it there. It isn't safe."

"Fine." She picked it up with a small mutter. "Since I'm going to see her aunt, I want you to talk to her before you leave."

"I'll try." He exhaled. "Where is the wedding going to be? Here in Kaduna?"

"And in Abuja," she answered casually.

He turned to look at her. "Momi, I can't travel to Abuja in three days. What are the events supposed to be?"

She gave him a knowing look. "My son, you think I don't know you? Just stay in Kaduna. We're having the bridal shower in Abuja, and the dinner here in Kaduna."

Of course she understood him.

He didn't like moving around too much, and he certainly didn't enjoy being the center of attention. But he knew he had little choice. She was Ali Bature's daughter, and he was Ibrahim Maitama's son. Certain things were expected of them.

"I just want you two to talk," Momi continued. "Sort things out with each other. Your father never took a second wife because he knew from the beginning that he loved me. And I know you. If you and Rumaisa still hate each other after marriage, you'll eventually take another wife just so that when you two fight, you'll have someone else to comfort you."

He sighed deeply.

"I know I can't change your father's mind," she added, "but maybe I can at least persuade yours."

"And what if mine doesn't want to be persuaded?"

"Ubanka, it will," she said confidently.

He burst out laughing.

"Maybe I really need to get married."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"So I can stop telling people I live with my parents."

She clicked her tongue. "You know I just want you close."

"And after me, Fatima and Salis will also leave soon."

"Exactly." She glanced at him before adding, "Now remove those glasses. You can't go there looking like a blind man."

"Momi, don't you think I should look good for my bride?"

"And that looks good?" she scoffed. "The youth these days."

"I don't think a thirty-three-year-old qualifies as 'youth,'" he muttered.

"To me, you are," she said firmly. "You've even gotten skinny."

He parked the car and immediately unbuckled his seat belt.

"We're here," he said quickly, eager to end the conversation. "Let's go in."

•

The living room was quiet, almost unbearably so.

Rumaisa sat on the couch with her hands folded tightly in her lap while Fuad stared at the floor, his mind caught in the aftermath of Sarah's confession.

Her words kept replaying in his head, each one raising another question.

He knew Sarah had played a part in what happened. She hadn't done it because she hated Rumaisa. She had been naive and reckless, and that recklessness had caused damage that could never simply be undone.