HER CRUSH

Chapter33

Zarah
Two Weeks Later...
The house was buzzing like a bee hive. Aunties moving in and out, cousins shouting, pots clanging in the kitchen....wallahi, I could barely hear myself think. It was official: wedding season had landed full force.

And not just any wedding....my wedding.
But of course, nothing in this family ever came without drama. Word had spread that Abdul had called off the wedding with Asma, and tension hung in the air like dust after harmattan. No one was saying anything directly to me, but trust women and their whispers.

The only person who actually told me things was Hanan. In just two weeks, she and I had become inseparable. She was funny, stylish, and had this sarcastic streak that matched mine perfectly.

It  felt like we'd been friends forever. Sometimes I forgot she was Abdul's sister and not my own.

Still, wallahi, I was exhausted. Between fittings, constant visitors, and family politics, I felt like collapsing. Today my aunties had gone to Abuja for my jere at the new house Abdul set up for me. I hadn't even seen it yet. Ikky promised to FaceTime me when they got there, and I was practically glued to my phone waiting.

I flopped onto my bed dramatically, arms spread like a tragic heroine. Farida was supposed to come over, but she was running late. To make things worse, I wasn't even allowed to step outside. Why? Nobody explained. They just kept saying "bride, don't go out."

As if I was a goat they were fattening for Sallah.

My phone buzzed. Abdul. Finally. I opened his message, only to hear a ridiculous voice note...loud Rap  music in the background with men singing something I didn't understand.

Then another message followed: "Now you're going to pretend you didn't see my message, right? 🥺"

I typed fast, my fingers flying. "Who, me? Pretend? Never!" 😂

Almost immediately, he replied: "Liar! I know you're ignoring me 😂"

Grinning, I sent him a blushing emoji. 🤭

This time, no reply. I was just about to sulk when my phone lit up again..FaceTime. I swiped to answer, already rehearsing my "angry wife-to-be" face.
But instead of Abdul's face, a little sunshine appeared on my screen.

"Hello, Aunty! Good afternoon!" Ihsan, his niece, squealed.

My heart melted. "Afternoon, my pumpkin! How's your day?"

"Fine! Mommy braided my hair today. Do I look pretty?" She twirled, her little face glowing.

"Absolutely beautiful, masha Allah," I said warmly.

But her lip wobbled. "Uncle A said I look bad."

I gasped in mock outrage. "Astaghfirullah! Abdul! You made my pumpkin cry?"

From the background, I heard his muffled laughter.

"Oh, pumpkin, don't cry," I soothed. "He's only jealous because your hair is nicer than his beard."

She giggled, instantly appeased. "Aunty, tell him to buy me chocolates! And a teddy bear!"

"Done deal. Chocolates and a teddy bear, insha Allah."