I am sorry for being so late, life happened.
Jadwa had texted Ahmad the night before, inviting him over for lunch, and followed it up with a call to Ameerah, asking her to come along with baby Iman.
By midday, the table was already set. Imran had gone to the mosque, and she was lounging in the living room, tucked into the throw pillows, waiting for him to return when the bell rang.
She rose slowly, adjusted her veil. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a loose hoodie, her feet dragging lazily across the tiled floor as she made her way to the door. The moment it swung open, Ameerah's wide grin lit up the entrance, followed by an excited squeal. Jadwa laughed, pulled her in for a tight hug, their laughter echoing softly.
Ameerah was radiant in a snug-fitting mustard dress, a matching veil wrapped neatly around her head. The way the color clung to her skin tone, glowing under the soft sunlight pouring in from the window, made Jadwa pause in silent admiration.
"Girl, is postpartum not a thing for you?" Jadwa asked, eyes wide, nearly stunned. Ameerah gave an exaggerated flip of her imaginary hair, grinning.
"I promise you it's killing me. Just that the body snapped back ASAP," she laughed, strutting inside. Behind her, her husband followed silently, his usual reserved presence slipping through the door.
"Good afternoon, Ya Ahmad," Jadwa said, her tone faint, clipped with a hint of attitude Ameerah picked up instantly—but she didn't flinch. This was between the siblings. Temporary, as always.
"Good afternoon, how are you?" Ahmad asked, composed.
"Alhamdulillah, how are you?" she returned politely, stepping forward to take baby Iman into her arms as they all made their way into the main living room.
"Alhamdulillah. Ina mai gidan ki?" Ahmad asked, his eyes scanning the space.
"He went to the mosque. I'm sure he'll be back soon," she replied, already moving toward the kitchen, gently rocking Iman. She gave quiet instructions to the maid to bring refreshments.
Once back, she settled onto the couch opposite them, cradling Iman against her chest, fingertips brushing across the baby's cheeks while she recounted every last
detail of the wedding with Ameerah. Ahmad, meanwhile, barely looked up from his phone, indifferent to the girls' chatter.
The front door creaked open moments later. Muhammad Imran stepped in, his presence grounding the room like always. Behind him, Khalifa trailed in, looking exhausted and slightly disheveled.
Jadwa looked down at Iman, but still echoed a warm greeting in unison with Ameerah and Ahmad.
From the corner of her eye, she watched Ahmad rise respectfully to greet Imran, who pulled him into a brotherly hug.
"Welcome. I hope we didn't stress you too much after the wedding festivities," Imran said, voice kind, eyes steady.
"Please, it's always great to be here," Ahmad chuckled, a sentiment that made Ameerah laugh too.
Ameerah and Imran exchanged a quick dialogue in Kanuri. But Jadwa caught something—she heard Ibrahim's name. It was more than mere greetings.
"Uncle Moh's wife, Assalamu Alayki," Khalifa greeted brightly, pulling a grin from her.
"Wa Alayka Assalam, Khalifa na. I thought you were going to hide behind your uncle throughout," Jadwa teased.
Khalifa laughed, "No, I'm just letting the grown-ups have their moment."
Jadwa opened her mouth to retort but instead burst into laughter, joined by the others.
