HER CRUSH

Chapter19

Zarah
I blinked repeatedly, trying to make sure I wasn't hallucinating from too much Fanta. Abdul had just proposed. Proposed! The guy  who once made fun of my math grades when I told him , the guy  who claimed he didn't have time for love  apart from his Asma now saying he wanted me.

For a second, I just sat there, staring like a confused goat.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the dashboard clock. "Zarah, it's 12:20. I shouldn't keep Sufyan waiting. He'll lock me out and I'll sleep in the car." His brows arched, looking like a man on a very serious mission.

I swallowed hard, heart pounding like a dundun drum. "I hope I won't regret giving you a chance, Abdul," I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

His eyes lit up instantly. "Should I take that as a yes?"

I nodded, smiling like an idiot.

"Thank you, Zarah. You won't regret it, Insha Allah. Good night, beautiful." His voice dropped low, syrupy sweet, and my stomach flipped.

"Good night... night!" I squeaked, fumbling with the car handle like I'd forgotten how doors worked.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, I half-skipped, half-ran toward the house, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. "Unbelievable! Abdul just confessed! The love of my life!" I whispered to myself, bouncing like a lunatic in the empty street. I must have looked crazy to the security guard at the gate, but who cared? I was glowing.

The Next Morning
The house was already alive with noise ....clattering pots, Aunties  voice from the kitchen, someone knocking at the neighbor's gate. I rubbed my eyes, stretched lazily, and recited my morning dua.

Then my phone buzzed.
Abdul.
"Good morning, beautiful."

Ya Allah. I rolled over, hugging my pillow, grinning like a fool. I typed back quickly:

"Nothing makes me happier than having a handsome, caring guy like you as my boyfriend."

Okay fine, maybe I was overdoing it. But who cares?

I was in love.

****

Two Years Later
Time flew faster than my little cousin running when someone shouted "food  is ready." Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and somehow, two years had passed.

My relationship with Abdul wasn't just stable.... it flourished. He was caring, calm, thoughtful... annoyingly perfect sometimes. Whenever he could, he'd drive from Abuja to Kaduna just to see me, like some knight in shining kaftan.

After our final exams, we had a two-week break. I planned to spend it at Aunt Ramlah's house, and of course, Abdul insisted on driving me there himself.
By 2:30 pm, I was already waiting, staring at the clock like it owed me money.

I admired Abdul's accomplishments. He has co-founded A&S Engineering Services with his cousin, Sufyan. Their strong bond is inspiring.

Our families knew about us, Alhamdulillah. Abdul had even told me he planned to meet his father soon to discuss marriage. That scared me, honestly. His father was... complicated. Plus, there was that other girlfriend. I had spoken to once on the phone. She wasn't particularly nice, but Abdul swore she was kind, just "misunderstood." (Yeah right. Even her hello felt like a threat.)

And tomorrow? Tomorrow I was turning 22.

"Zarah!" Ammi's voice yanked me out of my daydream.

I walked to the parlor....and froze.

There he was. Abdul. Sitting comfortably on our couch in a sky-blue kaftan that made him look like a Nollywood prince. His phone in one hand, his other arm casually resting on the chair. He looked up at me, eyebrow raised in quiet admiration.
Panic.

I ran back to my room, quickly wrapped my veil, adjusted my gown (blue and orange Ankara... thank you very much), sprayed extra perfume, and finally walked back like I hadn't just sprinted a 100-meter race.

He smiled knowingly.

"We should get going," he said, checking his watch. "It's Friday. I need to be at the masjid before one."

I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my bag, and followed him outside. He helped with my suitcase, like the gentleman he always pretended not to be.

Before I entered the car, I darted back to Ammi, who handed me a leather-wrapped package. "Give this to Aunt Ramlah."

"Okay , Ammi," I nodded, though I had no clue what it was.

As soon as we hit the main road, Abdul glanced at me, smile  tugging at his lips. "Mrs. Abdul, how are you doing today?"

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly touched my brain. "Not yet, mister."

He chuckled. "I'm just dying to have you, Zarah."

I snapped my head around. "Excuse me?" My face twisted.

He laughed. "Not like that. Dirty mind. I meant I'm dying to see you as my wife. I can't wait until it's official."

I exhaled, pretending to fan myself. "Clarify next time, before you give me a heart attack."

His grin widened. You're going to make an amazing wife."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll bring a whole new level of awesomeness to our marriage."

He shook his head, laughing. "I'm counting on it."

I leaned against the seat dramatically. Wow. I'm really about to marry a giant teddy bear who looks like he walked out of a kaftan catalogue.

He caught me smiling. "What's going through that head of yours?"

I grinned sweetly. "Just imagining how I'll make you do all the house chores while I focus on being a successful doctor and businesswoman. You'll cook, clean, take care of the kids, and call me queen."

He laughed. "You've definitely been watching too many rom-coms."

"Rom-coms or not, game on, Abdul."

He reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. "Game on, Zarah."

"By the way," he said casually. "You didn't sing my favorite song to me today."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why should I?"

"You always do. What happened today?"

"Because I was distracted by your handsome face." I batted my eyelashes dramatically.

He smirked. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Except maybe... a lifetime of doing the dishes."

"Worth it."

He leaned closer. "Still. I want the song."

I groaned but began singing softly, voice low. He joined in at the chorus, his deep voice blending with mine until the car wasn't just a car anymore ...it was our little cocoon of love and laughter.

The next morning, my phone buzzed nonstop. Friends, cousins, classmates....birthday wishes pouring in. But Abdul had been the first. He'd stayed awake just to wish me before midnight.
Then, another call popped up.

Sufyan.

I rolled my eyes, quickly adjusted my scarf, and answered.

"Happy birthday, our wifey!" he announced grinning at the camera.

I sighed. "Thanks, Sufyan. You're really selling the 'wifey' thing hard, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "So, how old are you now?"

"Older, wiser, and still not telling you my age," I shot back.

He laughed. "Fine, I'll just ask your boyfriend."

He swung the camera toward Abdul....lounging in sweatpants and a black tee, scrolling through his phone like the world didn't exist.

I raised an eyebrow. "Wow. My boyfriend is clearly more interested in his phone than me. Tragic."

Sufyan laughed. "Don't mind him. He's allergic to birthdays."

I pouted. "Convenient. He's allergic to everything that requires effort."

Abdul finally glanced up, one brow raised. "I heard that."

"Good," I said sweetly. "Now put your phone down and pay attention to me, mister. It's my birthday....