Prologue.

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Note:
The two scenes happened on two different occasions.

Kaduna, Nigeria.

Sadiq gave the dainty fingers in his grip a tug, she all but fell into his arms with her eyes shut close, her heart galloped in her chest as the scent emanating from his body embraced her wholly.

"Shy?" The deep sound of his voice had a teasing edge to it and it wreaked havoc with all of her senses. She clenched her eyes tighter and couldn't help the smile that spread over her face.

Never in her life has she imagined a scenario of herself in an embrace like this with him. The feel of his fingers around her wrist, his breath over her head as his nose brushed the hairs at the fore of her head, his other hand spanning her waist. Those alone gave her mighty goosebumps, the good kind.

Knowing her voice was totally gone all she could do was shake her head in response.

"Not shy. Okay, voiceless? Where's all the spunk? And the drama? The clumsiness."

That did it.

"I'm never clumsy!" She exclaimed, her eyes briefly meeting his. With an inner groan she shut the clumsy lots close, tighter than before.

"Says the girl who fell at my feet.."

"My shoe broke, it rained and the road was slippery, your eyes were totally on me and that alone could make me fall without all the other reasons." Her lips pulled into a pout.

"I admit, I was blinded by your beauty," He whispered into her ear, she felt boneless at the action. "Even more so when you got up all wet and dirty and in tears." He couldn't help the laughter that escaped his throat after the words.

"God! I'm such a klutz sometimes. But, shh don't say a word." She smiled, two dimples sucking her cheeks in.

Sadiq released a breath he had no idea he was holding at the sight of his bride smiling with her eyes firmly shut close, if he didn't know better he would've thought it was Imaan and not his Amaani, she was always the bolder of the two while the former was more reserved and shy.

"I love you so much." He whispered, his lips brushing over hers for the slightest of seconds. He felt her response in the tightening of her hand on their sides.

.....

Kano, Nigeria.

Imaan leaned against the wall in her room with her fingers itching to do something, draw, sketch, whatever it was she did when nervous when the sound of a very very loud yoddle stopped her dead in her tracks, her eyes widened to the size of two tennis balls.

They were here.

She peeked over the blinds in her room and watched as four black tinted cars rolled into her father's driveway, her phone's vibration jolted her back to life and the message she found soothed her erratic heart a bit. At least her Amaani was over the moon with joy and what Amaani wants, Imaan goes for.

"Imaan, wear your alkyabba and Safiyya, escort her out." Her Father's elder sister, Hajiya Umma commanded.

She wanted to burst into tears, deep inside she was happy, so happy that her heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting but was he? Was he happy too? Or did he felt forced? Thousands of questions swamped her head until she felt lightheaded, her Aunt's grip on her elbow stopped her from falling to the ground.

"Control yourself, you've known Abdullah all your life why do you suddenly seem scared? Be brave Imaani."

Imaan could only nod in response before letting her Aunt Safiyyah lead the way to where the man she's known all her life as an elder brother was waiting for her, not as a sister anymore but as a legally binding wife. The thought made her stomach churn.

Once she was helped into her father's domain, she recognised his scent from the others in the room and without daring to raise her head her Aunt Safiyyah lowered her to the ground and walked out leaving behind three figures in the room, her brother who was also Imaan's Father Alhaji Fu'ad Mustapha, the bride, and the groom, Lieutenant Abdullah Maleek.

Her Father cleared his throat, gave them a ten minute sermon after which he excused himself from the sitting room leaving the bride and her groom alone. Abdullah turned his eyes from his bride's fingers to her lowered head. Her fingers, ever so busy were pulling at the decorative beads on her cloak. He recognised it as her nervous gesture.

"Aysha Imaan," He called her name in the peculiar way only he does "have nothing to say to me today?"

With her head still lowered a greeting slipped past her lips.

"Do you feel forced?"

She shook her head in denial.

"You don't like me?"

A burst of courage made her speak, "Can I not?"

"Of course you can, it's your choice." He shrugged.

"You're Ya Abdullah, you're.. you're.." Her teeth clattered nervously against each other.

"Your husband now, and I know what's getting you all worked up and nervous. I wasn't forced into asking for your hand Aysha. It was meant to be." He'd always been the straightforward type.

"Your father's sitting room might not be the most suitable place for this conversation but I can't have you taken to our house all nervous about our situation. There are so many reasons why I requested for your hand in marriage," His eyes moved from her fingers to her face, when he caught her eyes he spoke, "I couldn't let you slip from me just like that."

The sound of footsteps approaching the room had him stopping and when the knob turned Imaan looked up and found his eyes staring intently at her face. Her Aunt Safiyyah escorted her out of the room and that was only when she let herself breathe like a normal person.

Damn if he didn't touch the buttons she never knew existed in her.

Before she parted with her father and her family in Kano, she sent him a text message to appease his curiosity on what exactly her feelings and stand were about their union.

Congratulations Ya Abdullah.

Then, she shut her phone off.

Happy? She got married to the love of her life. She was frickin elated!

...
Hello Assalamu Alaikum wa Rahmatullah wa Barakatuh.

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