"There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be..."
"This story is a gripping tale of desire , jealousy , and unforgettable characters as real as the emotions that bring them together"
This is a story about Khadija afrah and afaan...
UNKNOWN P.O.V. "I told you already, Beebah, I won't rest until Afaan is mine. I don't care how much it costs—just take me to the Mallam's place. I'm done playing nice. If I can't get to Afaan directly, we'll use Abba ," she hissed into the phone, her eyes blazing with determination.
Beebah chuckled softly on the other end, clearly amused. "Girl, I've been waiting for this day! Get yourself ready. I'll be there in ten minutes. Time to make things happen." ---
AFRAH'S P.O.V. After what felt like an eternity, we finally touched down. The exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I fought back any complaints, stealing a glance at Afaan. The only thing I seemed to do lately was sleep. As we prepared to land, his hand reached over, giving mine a gentle squeeze that brought a small smile to my face. Just ten minutes to go. When we arrived, a sleek black Rolls Royce awaited us.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The entire ride home was peaceful, with neither of us breaking the silence. The familiar roads stretched out before us until, minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of our home.
As soon as we stepped inside, I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Home sweet home! Kowa ya bar gida gida ya barshi!" I sang, throwing my arms wide.
Afaan raised a brow, muttering under his breath, "Psycho."
"I heard that, Mr. Psychiatrist!"
A grin tugged at his lips. "Afrah, I am not doing that."
I gasped dramatically. "What?!" I knew exactly what he was referring to and couldn't help but burst into laughter. Before he could respond, I sprinted to my room.
The house still carried the soothing scent of turaren wuta by Bakhoor-Al-Asli Everything was just as we had left it. I changed the bedsheets and rushed to take a quick shower before sneaking into Afaan's room to clean it up as well.
Just as I was fluffing the pillows, he emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung low around his waist and another draped over his head.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his smirk evident as he towel-dried his hair.
I smiled cheekily. "What does it look like? I'm taking care of you."
I moved closer, taking the towel from his hand to help dry his hair. The scent of musk and lavender filled the room, and before I knew it, his arms were around me, closing the space between us.
He leaned down, his voice gentle. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Afrah. Don't ever leave me. And please, don't work yourself too hard, okay?"
My heart swelled, but I played it off, smiling. "Okay, papi. When are we going out?"
He released me with a soft chuckle. "Later. Rest first. I'll wake you up when I'm ready too."
