Architect and Mrs Dantata

12: AMAL

I receive flowers and chocolates after Jumm'ah.

At first I think the delivery man got the wrong person but there isn't another Amal Muhammad in this building and his description of me is spot on. I sign against my name and watch him leave, wondering if someone's pulling a late valentine joke on me. I hope that's not the case. I warned the men I interact with in this place to not try anything funny.

I'm on the floor that houses my apartment and those of my friends when my thoughts go in another direction, forcing me to stop in my tracks. No way...It's not him, right? Who am I kidding? Why didn't I think of him first?

I double lock the door behind me once I'm in the apartment. It's not because I'm worried about someone intruding my privacy but if this is really from Zayd, I don't want anyone else to see it. I've never wanted to protect a secret so badly. It feels so exhilarating and so, so good.

I finally realize they're faux flowers and I smile like an idiot. It's definitely Zayd. I can't name all the flowers in the bouquet but I recognize most and I'm proud of it. I find the attached card and open it. The message is typed out cursively and it's almost too easy for it to warm my heart.

'I thought I should get you flowers on Friday because it's a special day and you're quite the special lady. I had to settle for faux flowers because I am yet to find a craftsperson who would make origami flowers like I do. Until I do get one, let's stick with these.

In case it isn't clear yet, Amal, I'm going to make it a tradition to randomly get you something whenever I have the chance because I really like it when you smile.

If the florist didn't do a good job with the bouquet, let me know. I'll have a word with her. Also, the chocolates are Hershey's because you've been tweeting non-stop about them. If you don't like them anymore, please let me know what brand I should get the next time I want to get you something.

Jumm'ah Mubarak, Amal.

-Zayd.'

It's hard to swallow back my squeal. I really try to do so. Have I been living under a rock, Ya Allah? Is this what I have been missing out on? What if I didn't go back to Abuja for Halima's wedding? Is this how Zayd would have been introduced to someone else? She would be the one receiving chocolates and flowers and –

I kill that thought immediately. I'm not going there. I went down to Abuja and I got introduced to him and now, I'm getting a lovely aftermath I never foresaw in my future as at the time we – my friends and I – were counting down to the new year.

I read the message on the card again before opening the circular box. Sure enough, it's full of Hershey's and I already know I'm going to upset my stomach. I don't care. I'm not going to let even one of these go to waste. I look around the apartment for an empty vase and it takes me a near minute to recall giving it out because I didn't have more flowers after the one he gave me at the airport.

I can't help but sigh. That's another trip to the store. It's honestly because it's Zayd. If it were someone else, I'll find an empty bottle (I'm sure Alessia has enough) and stuff the flowers in until there's no space. Flowers from Zayd are special and they shall be treated with the respect they deserve. This man is raising the bar.

I remove my veil and abaya before unlocking my phone. It's nearly 11PM back home. Is he going to be awake? I hesitate, not wanting to wake him up in case he's asleep. He did tell me there were issues that needed his attention so he was going to be preoccupied. I'm still contemplating when my phone beeps and I swear to God, my heart skips a beat.

Zayd: I'm going to make a guess. You're back from the mosque and you're home now. Right or wrong?

Instead of texting back, I call him. I'm really exhausting my airtime but talking to him is always worth it. Always. He picks almost immediately. "Amal."