HER CRUSH

Chapter20

Zarah
Bro, how old is our wife?" Sufyan questioned,  as he looked at Abdul.

Without looking up from his phone, Abdul muttered, "Ask her now. How old is she?" His thumbs tapped furiously on the screen.

I narrowed my eyes. "Sorry! He's playing game."

I pouted dramatically, arms crossed. "Oh, great. My boyfriend's too busy gaming to care about my birthday. That's not a red flag at all. Somebody call the relationship police."

Sufyan burst out laughing. "Wallahi, Zarah, you're too much. Don't mind him. So, birthday girl, what's the plan? What did you prepare for us today?"

"Nothing!" I shot back, pressing my lips together, pretending I didn't care.

"Nothing?!" Sufyan's jaw dropped in mock horror. "Are you serious? Zarah, wallahi, you're boring! You expect us to just sit down and watch CNN with you?"

I gasped. "Excuse you! I'm not boring, I'm....I lifted my chin dramatically, ...mysterious."

"Abeg," Sufyan groaned. "We have to celebrate this day! How about I take you out and give you a special birthday treat?"

My heart skipped, but I masked it with a nervous smile. "Okay then... thank you."

Abdul whispered something to Sufyan, and both of them erupted into laughter like two boys plotting trouble in class.

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. "These two can't be trusted. I swear, they're cooking something. Should I be worried?"

Sufyan only grinned wider. "Just get ready around 9 pm. I'll pick you up."

He hung up, leaving me staring at my phone.

"Hmmm. Mischief is in the air," I muttered, biting my lip. "And Abdul hasn't called or texted since morning. What's wrong with him today?"

Still, I shook it off. After a long bath, I slipped into a beautiful black floral gown, paired with silver heels.

Aunt Ramlah insisted on doing light makeup for me, her hands trembling a little but her eyes glowing with happiness. She was finally pregnant again after her struggles, Alhamdulillah, and that glow reflected on her face.

I sprayed perfume, slipped on my iWatch, and snapped a few photos. One went straight to Instagram, one to Abdul. His silence made me pout harder. "Hmph. If he doesn't say anything, I'll block him. Shameless man."

By 9:30, I was drumming my fingers. "Late already. Typical."

Suddenly, Abdul's name flashed on my screen. I rejected it immediately. "Now he remembers me, because of my pictures. Men!"

Seconds later, Sufyan called. "I'm outside."

I rushed to the door, only to see a sleek black Mercedes roll in, tinted windows glinting under the estate lights. My heart skipped as Abdul stepped out jeans, black long-sleeved shirt, Gucci shoes, black cap pulled low, his skin glowing under the streetlights. My mouth dried.

"Ya Allah," I muttered. "Why does he look like trouble in human form?"

Before I could think too much, Sufyan's voice came through the phone. "Sorry, couldn't make it. But don't worry, Abdul is there to pick you. Enjoy!"