Life Without You✔️.

19: Faking Forever

Bibi's POV
Abuja Nigeria\ Oxfordshire United Kingdom.

The wedding was over. The photos were taken. The congratulations were said. But beneath the surface of it all was silence. Cold, heavy, and constant.
The next three days I had to go to sleep with him in the same room was hell but finally today we would be traveling back to London.

Alhamdulillah Yusuf and Fayha would be coming with else I don't know what I would have done with myself being cooped up the entire ride there with just him.

Mama and Aunty Shafa came to say their goodbyes as promised and then we boarded. I sat with fayha the whole time and when we landed we both went our separate ways apparently Uncle Faiz insisted for the next month we stay together so we had to get a house for the time being.
So it was just me and him.

The house looked like something he had personally furnished. Classy. Cold. Just like him.
He showed me around politely, told me which room would be mine on the opposite end of the corridor from his and that was the last real conversation we had.

He didn't yell. He didn't insult. He didn't speak to me.
He just didn't care. And since it was going to be like this. I also made the decision to be like him I wouldn't care any longer he can do as he wishes with whoever. I'll be finishing school and once we go back to Nigeria I'll be busy so he'll have the time to while away with his love.
I couldn't be bothered.

And when uncle Faiz and Aunty Maimuna returned we had dinner at their house everyday. For the outside world, though? He was the perfect husband. At family dinners, he pulled my chair out. When we were out, he held my hand just long enough for people to see. When Fayha posted photos of us online, he smiled. Just enough.

I couldn't even bring myself to tell her what he was like when it was just the two of us even when she asked I always said the same thing "he's been trying."
But in private, he treated me like an obligation. Like a bill to be paid monthly. Like a deal he regretted signing.

And even though I persisted with my lies the only person who noticed really noticed was Fayha.

"I know you're lying to me. But I know Ayman and I know you and I know that nothing has changed between you two." she told me once, curled up next to me in my room, her arm looped around mine. "You're stronger than you think. You've already survived worse and you'll conquer this one as well insha'Allah."

Fayha became my lifeline. She was my friend, my sister, the one who made me laugh on the nights I wanted to cry. She never judged me. She just stayed.

Two days before my graduation, Ayman randomly mentioned during breakfast. "We'll be leaving a week after your graduation as I have things I need to handle and finalize at the office before we leave so you better start packing I don't want any excuses."

I blinked at him from across the table. Since he was starting conversation, I decided to jump at the opportunity "Mama and Aunty Shafa are here can I spend the remaining days with them?" It wasn't really asking for permission just rather informing him. 

He gave a non committal shrug without looking up from his plate. "Do what you want." He replied.

Graduation day came. I wore a white and gold dress Mama had gifted me, soft, modest and beautiful. Ayman was there, sharp in a black suit, smiling for the cameras Even went as far as kissing my forehead in front of the crowd, and smiled like a man in love. He even brought roses the works. Perfect, polished. All for the show. Mama insisted I go home with him that day even though my things were all over at their house.

The moment we stepped into the house, he dropped the bouquet on the table and disappeared into his room without a word. No "Mashaa Allah," no "congratulations you did well." Nothing.

I made myself some noodles because I was hungry and too tired to actually prepare something filling.

I cried myself to sleep that night. This was my new life and I just had to get used to it. Else we're going to keep revisiting this chapter of tears.

A week later, we moved back to Nigeria. A new house. A "fresh start," they said. But there was nothing fresh about loneliness. There was nothing new about emptiness.

Ayman was never around. He'd leave early, come back late. Some days, not at all. We could go days without speaking. The only voices in my life were the Qur'an on my bedside table and Fayha's late-night calls checking in on me.

Sometimes, I'd hear Ayman in the kitchen late at night.
Sometimes, I'd hear him laughing on the phone in his room. Never with me.

And still, I told no one. Because what could I say? That I was a wife, but not loved? That I lived in a house with a man who looked at me like a stranger?

On a Monday morning as I was sipping my coffee absentmindedly, my phone rang. Afnan. Hey hey hey, guess who's coming to crash your lonely little party today?!" she said, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. I laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. "Who?"

"Me and Leena! We're coming after Dhuhr so you better make us lunch because wallahi we're coming hungry!"
"Tohm naji Mama Na. I'll prepare a feast for you, just bring ice cream." I teased. "We'll think about it!" she giggled before hanging up.
I smiled, feeling my spirits lift for the first time in days.
Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

After Dhuhr, they arrived like a whirlwind of energy and noise, just like old times. They came bearing gifts ice cream, chocolates, and unnecessary drama.
I pulled my hair into a quick bun, tied my apron, and got to work.

In no time, the kitchen was filled with the smell of steaming hot jollof rice, spicy peppered chicken, crunchy fried samosas, and sweet zobo drink chilling in the fridge.

"You even prepared zobo?" Afnan exclaimed, peeking into the fridge. "I told you I'm a housewife now," I said with a wink. Leena burst out laughing, throwing herself onto the sofa.

"Housewife koh prisoner?" she joked, and we all laughed way too hard. We ate. We talked. We gossiped about everything and nothing.
For a few beautiful hours, I forgot about Ayman. Forgot about loneliness. Forgot about the aching silence waiting upstairs.

In that moment, surrounded by laughter, the smell of fried chicken, and sisterhood, I was whole again.

السلام عليكم
It's a double update again😏 ATP I'm just updating anyhow.
This so sad🥹 on the bright side our baby is now a graduate though 🥳 so proud of her. Don't worry she'll give him a taste of his own medicine soon hold on tight. On a scale of 1 to 10 how would you rate this version?
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