[XV]
"Goodnight," Imran said.
Before Jadwa could pull away, her phone notifications chimed incessantly, drawing both their attention to the phone between them.
"Unblock me."
"I am so sorry. Please unblock me. How could you block me everywhere?"
"Jadu, please. Even if you don't want to ever talk to me again, let me talk to you once. Give me one last chance to tell you this."
"Just once. Once, please."
"I'll always love you, even though I know I may never have you again in this lifetime. Just know my feelings were true and I am sorry."
Jadwa tapped on the notifications with Imran's hands still wrapped around her. She read them, then blocked the account right then and there.
"I'll get going now." He placed a peck on her temple.
Jadwa removed herself from his hold, not caring if he saw the texts or not, which he most likely did. She was exhausted, annoyed, irritated, pained, and especially angry at herself and Imran.
Jadwa silently got out of the car, shut the door a bit louder than usual, and went into the house.
Meanwhile, Imran roared his engine to life immediately, speeding out of his in-laws' gates.
He knew how angry she was; he felt it and saw it. He decided to give her some space while he gathered his own thoughts. It was the same anonymous account on Instagram that messaged him a few days ago asking about his marriage and raining curses on him for taking what belonged to another person.
At first, he found it humorous and childish. One look at the profile and a brief investigation confirmed his suspicions about Abdulhakeem. He didn't just show up like that without knowing Jadwa's movements. From his cursory background check, he found nothing except Abdulhakeem's incompetence and cowardice, alongside his upcoming wedding in a few months.
Imran's thoughts juggled as he sped through the streets of Abuja. Imran scoffed; it was disrespectful to him. He was old enough to see through these machinations. He could only care less if Jadwa was angry at him now, especially since she might see him as controlling. What mattered more was protecting her. Abdulhakeem didn't just show up without reason. It wasn't paranoia or his anger; it was reality. He needed to keep her safe.
Imran picked up his phone and called Ibrahim to relax with his friend, just to take his mind off things.
Back in the house, Jadwa went straight to her room. Heat ran through her body. First, her now-husband, then her stupid ex trying to add more salt to her wound. She was met with the two women doing her gyaran jiki, as they did every day and night. Jadwa almost hissed loudly but restrained herself in frustration. She mumbled a greeting and went to the bathroom. A tear slipped from her eye, which she aggressively wiped away while undressing and wrapping herself in a tiny towel that barely covered her midsection.
She couldn't hold back the tears, even if she tried. How could he misunderstand her, just like everyone else always did? How could he lay down such rules for her? It was within his rights as her husband, but the way he did it, the control he didn't even smile or give her room to protest. It was a humbling moment, a realization that her life was now under another man's control. The way he kissed her forehead and told her she was a good girl why was he constantly changing? Jadwa took a deep breath, splashing water on her face, repeating in her head how much she hated control. She'd rather rot in the house than ask permission to go out.
Jadwa returned to the women moments later and sat on the protective mats they usually laid down for her. Throughout the intense three-hour session, Jadwa's thoughts filled only with the reality check she'd received. Marriage was starting to hit her even before she lived under the same roof with a man. She was terrified not of her partner, but of the realization deep within her heart. As much as he was wrong, she was equally guilty for her actions and choices, despite not yet being under his roof.
