<p>JB was deeply shaken upon seeing his boss, Ibrahim. He became distraught, losing his composure entirely. As Ibrahim made his way out, JB called out, “Ibrahim, please wait for me; I'll join you shortly.”</p><p>Ibrahim replied coldly, "You two can finish your sweet talk before you decide to come out," and walked off without looking back.</p><p>I tried to follow, but JB held onto my scarf. “Who is this man to you? Please tell me before my heart breaks further.”</p><p>"Ibrahim is my relative," I replied, “and he’s the man I’m about to marry. Our wedding is in less than three weeks.”</p><p>Hearing this, JB bowed his head, visibly distressed. I could see the weight of emotions on his face. Ignoring his pain, I freed my scarf from his grasp and left the room. I searched for Ibrahim, hoping to see him, but he was gone. Even Hajiya was nowhere to be found. Disheartened, I made my way home and headed to my room, where I found Ibrahim sitting quietly.</p><p>"Why didn’t you wait for me?" I asked.</p><p>He remained silent, not even looking at me. I rambled on, but when he finally raised his head, I noticed tears streaming down his face.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Ibrahim?”</p><p>"Don’t add more pain to my heart, Nusaiba," he said. “So, it’s true. You’ve been in love with that boy, and you hid it from me. I overheard everything—your love, your secrets. Had I known, I wouldn’t have pursued you. This only shows you don’t love me. If you had told me earlier, I would’ve stepped back and let him have you. But instead, you deceived me. You didn’t just break my heart—you humiliated me.”</p><p>"Please let me explain," I pleaded. “What you heard isn’t how it seems. Give me a chance to clarify.”</p><p>"What is there to explain, Nusaiba?" he snapped. “You and JB are clearly in love, and it’s not just casual feelings. It’s deep. I was blind to it all—helping him, giving my wealth to support him, not knowing he was the one stealing your heart. Why would you treat me this way? Why hide this from me? Do you think I’ll ever believe you love me?”</p><p>His words struck a nerve. Though I regretted the situation, I couldn’t deny my feelings for JB. Ibrahim stood and left without waiting for my response, heading straight to Abba. He asked him to cancel the wedding, claiming he could no longer go through with it.</p><p>That evening, Abba summoned me. When I entered, he was alone. "Nusaiba," he began, “today is Tuesday. By Friday, your wedding will be conducted. I want you to prepare yourself. From now on, you are not allowed to leave this house. Everything you need will be brought to you. Also, hand over your phone to me—you won’t need it until after the wedding when you’re settled in Barno with Ibrahim. There, a doctor will be available to check on you. Now leave, and don’t make me angry.”</p><p>His words were final. My heart sank. I walked out of his presence, numb with despair. The realization of my impending marriage to Ibrahim—a union I neither wanted nor planned for—filled me with dread.</p><p>On Friday, the wedding was solemnized around 10:30 in the morning. By noon, Abba himself drove me to Barno. As we approached Ibrahim’s house, Abba held my hand and walked me inside. After giving me some heartfelt advice, he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a heavy heart.</p><p>The next morning, Ibrahim entered my room with a bag in hand. "What do you want to eat?" he asked.</p><p>"I’m not hungry," I replied coldly. “Just leave me alone, Ibrahim. I don’t even want to see you.”</p><p>"I know this marriage wasn’t what you wanted, and it’s clear you don’t love me. But do you think I wanted this either? Do you think I wanted to be with someone who despises me?" He paused, his voice breaking. “I’ll leave you now. Take your time.”</p><p>He left the room, and I spent the day in silence. Later, he returned with a bag of clothes. "Get dressed," he said. “We’re going to an event this afternoon. I’ve arranged for someone to help with your makeup. If you’re not comfortable, tell her. At least try to look happy for appearances.”</p><p>He left before I could respond. When the makeup artist arrived, I reluctantly allowed her to prepare me. By the time she finished, I barely recognized myself. I looked stunning, even to my own surprise. She took some pictures before leaving.</p><p>When Ibrahim saw me, his face softened. "You look beautiful," he said, taking my hand gently. “If only we both truly wanted this, we could’ve been happy.”</p><p>With that, he led me to his car. We drove to the event in silence, the weight of our unspoken emotions filling the space between us.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
