<p> </p><p>—</p><p>“Why are you coming back, JB?”</p><p>“I'm coming back to take revenge for what I lost.”</p><p>“What do you mean? I don’t understand. Tell me clearly!”</p><p>“I will leave you, but whenever I call and you don't answer, you’ll see me in this house. I swear, I will never let you go, you hear me?”</p><p>Tears began to stream from both of our eyes as we spoke, both crying without anyone comforting the other. I love JB, but I can't imagine sharing my life with him, even though he was the first man I ever loved.</p><p>I walked him to the gate silently, not saying a word to avoid prolonging his departure. I stood at the gate watching as he left, and when I went back into the house, I heard the sound of Ibrahim’s car approaching. I took a deep breath and thanked Allah that he hadn’t caught us together.</p><p>I wiped my tears and went to the bathroom. Just as I was finishing, I heard him coming in. I stepped out and greeted him.</p><p>"Welcome back," I said, and he replied, “Today you stayed home alone, it seems. I guess you're used to it now, Madam. By the way, I'm starving.”</p><p>“I'll get your food. Give me two minutes.”</p><p>When I went to serve his food, I noticed the plate and drink I had prepared for JB earlier. I didn’t say a word. When I returned with the food, he began eating and suddenly asked, “Nusaiba, who left the house earlier? I saw a man leaving, but I couldn’t see his face.”</p><p>“Oh, that was Abbas, Fakiratu’s younger brother. You know he’s schooling here, so he came to check on me. I really appreciated his visit.”</p><p>“Ah, he should have waited for me. I could have dropped him back at school. But no problem, I'll give you some money to send to him to thank him for the visit.”</p><p>He then added, “By the way, you should come eat with me. Or are you full already? Your voice sounds like you've been crying, and your eyes look swollen. What's wrong?”</p><p>“It’s nothing. A speck of dust entered my eye, that’s all.”</p><p>He nodded and continued eating.</p><p>That day, Ibrahim didn’t leave the house. He insisted on spending the entire day with me. At night, he demanded his marital rights, despite my attempts to convince him otherwise. He was adamant, saying that it was the only way he could truly feel my love for him. I had no choice but to give in, though it was emotionally draining. Still, it didn’t compare to the pain I endured the first time I was with JB.</p><p>Afterward, Ibrahim was full of joy, and I felt pity for him. He truly loved me unconditionally, and I doubted he would ever confront me even if he found out about my past. Every night, I added JB’s number to my blacklist to prevent his calls, fearing what might happen if Ibrahim saw his number.</p><p>The next morning, Ibrahim told me, “My dear, we’re expecting visitors today—some of my friends. We should prepare for them.”</p><p>"May Allah bring them safely," I replied.</p><p>Without wasting time, I went to the kitchen to prepare food. Within an hour and a half, I was done. I showered and dressed modestly, avoiding anything that might raise suspicion about our marriage. Around noon, the guests arrived. Ibrahim himself welcomed them in.</p><p>After some time, he came to the room and said, "Let’s go greet them together. I don’t want them to look at you inappropriately." He held my hand as we walked to the living room. I greeted the guests politely and then excused myself, leaving Ibrahim with them.</p><p>Back in my room, my phone rang urgently. I picked it up quickly and heard Mom’s voice. After exchanging pleasantries, she asked, “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I'm doing better, Mom. Thank you.”</p><p>Then I added, “Mom, please forgive me. I’ve wronged you in so many ways.”</p><p>“You? Wrong me? Never! What happened? Tell me.”</p><p>“I got married two weeks ago. Please forgive me for not telling you.”</p><p>“What?! You, my child, are married, and you didn’t tell me? I thought I was still your mother! Why would you do this? I’m so disappointed. I assumed that after you and Muhammad ended things, you’d at least tell me about your plans when the time came. But I see that’s not the case.”</p><p>Her words brought tears to my eyes as memories of Muhammad flooded my mind. It took me a while before I could respond.</p><p>“It’s in Borno, Mom. My husband is Ibrahim, the cousin I came to Muhammad’s funeral with.”</p><p>“May Allah bless your marriage. Congratulations! Allah knows best. May He grant Muhammad eternal peace and forgive his shortcomings.”</p><p>After advising me, she promised to visit soon. Her words lingered, making me emotional. As I wiped my tears, Ibrahim walked in and caught me.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p>
