Chapter 34: Strong enough

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Adnan Abubakar Barkindo sauntered into the halls of the Barkindo enterprises, his size ineluctably attracts attention making most men subconsciously check themselves and straighten their backs and the women; those that fought the urge to batter their lashes flirtatiously couldn’t hide the admiration in their eyes as he walked past them with a gentle but confident gait, women swooned as he turned the corner heading to the direction of the elevator ignoring the stares he was receiving, for the most part he hadn’t noticed.

He smiled and nodded at few of the employees he was familiar with, declining someone’s request to help him with what he needed to do, when he reached the elevator he pressed the last floor which would take him directly to his brother's office floor, though he knew he wasn't there, he'd left him at home.

The elevator dinged and he walked out with calculative steps towards the secretary's desk. She was clad in a rose ebony chiffon scarf and a white blouse he could see that from where he was. He wasn’t in her line of sight yet so stood for a second and adjusted his perfectly fitted suit jacket from house of Bajan, he expelled a breath before continuing in steady strides.

He tapped the desk softly bringing her attention to him. She looked up quickly, her expression turning from surprise to fright to shock then wariness, he completely towered over her seated form, his cologne enveloping her, she fought the urge to take a deep breath.

“Good morning hamma.” she greeted her voice small. Aisha might act confident and sassy to his older brother, but her knees give out in his presence. Fahad is definitely charismatic and his mere presence makes you want to do everything right, but Adnan, there was something about him she couldn’t quite place.

“Good morning.” his deep voice answered, though he made strong effort for it to come out softly but it still held a deep bass.

“How can I help you?” She stood up looking at everywhere but him.

Adnan is described as the muscle of the family among his two brothers and also the most intimidating, his size makes people not argue that fact, his always poker face and one flick of his eyes in your direction is set to put you in your place. Adnan is the one to blow things out of proportion; he's the act then ask kind of person, and like his siblings, has confidence that's way too much for their own good.

That aside, his heart wanted to jump out of his chest and present itself to his cousin on a golden potter to do with it as she pleased but the mental image of that didn't look pretty as nice as it sounded, to him at least.

The confidence he’d left the house with dissipated and eventually none was left the moment he settled his gaze on her, she's so beautiful masha Allah.

“Hamma?” her voice was shaky as she asked, she was about to piss her pants, why was he still standing? She asked herself adjusting her perfectly wrapped veil.

“Should I get you a chair while you wait for him? He's not here yet.” she was doing everything and failing woefully not to sound scared.

“I know he's not here, we live in the same house.” he said matter of fact making her blush, it showed on her caramel skin making her look all the more innocent and if possible, more beautiful. His heart tugged and his stomach did flips, hearts would be swimming over his head if he was a cartoon character, he wasn’t even kidding. He wondered how someone could be so perfect because the more looked at her the more he feels his heart registering her.

“Oh, how can I help you?” she asked, moving her weight from one foot to the other, she just couldn't stand still which brought a small smile to his face.

“You can sit perhaps,” he pointed to her empty chair, “I'm here to see you.” her eyes widened a fraction, she sat nevertheless to keep herself from asking him why he wanted to see her, she couldn’t question him.

“Okay?”

“When do you get off work today? I want to take you out on a date.”

**** **** ****

“Hamma!” Fahad groaned when Huda scrambled into his apartment shouting like the house was on fire.

“Stop shouting.” he called from the bedroom.

“Okay!” she used the same pitch as earlier.

“Hamma, guess who is here?” she jumped on the bed beside him.

“Nicklaus Mikaelson or Chuck Bass?” his tone was full of sarcastic enthusiasm.

“I would've eloped and then you'll have to come and find me at the alter.” she threw him a pointed look and he shook his head at her over dramatic self.

“The sooner you tell me who is it, the earlier you'll go back to them, and leave me to my peace.” he said the last part as an afterthought.

“Actually, I was sent to call you.” she smiled sheepishly.

“When?”

“Like ten minutes ago.” She muttered sheepishly, with another shake of his head, he stood up and dragged her with him.

He heard female voices but didn't bother trying to tell who they were, besides he was seeing them anyways so no need to stress his brain.

With his arm around Huda's shoulder, they entered the main house after saying their taslim.

Barr. Salima sat with two women, one her younger sister and the other who looked somewhat familiar but he couldn’t fully grasp who she looked like.

He squatted a bit and greeted them, they invited him to sit but he declined politely, they exchanged pleasantries and when all that was over, he made to turn but his aunt's voice stopped him.

“Fahad, you won't bring a wife ba, Toh your younger sister that doesn't want to bring husband is there sitting, Ko hadin gida zaa yi?” (Or should we betroth you two?) He only smiled politely.

He thought of her daughters and wondered who was old enough for marriage, both are under twenty, except Adnan's future wife who was twenty three and yes they'd already planned the wedding, he was forced to sit through the two hours presentation by Huda and Aneesah, and Ja’afar was in on it too and already has his junior groom-as he liked to call himself- outfit ready, it was just the bride that had no idea.

“You shouldn't rush him,” he instantly liked the other woman, “He's even young when I think of Farhan, that one wants to die a bachelor.” the three women laughed, he stood awkwardly, Huda had already made her escape and he felt betrayed, she dragged him and left him, he did the dragging but she brought him.

“They don't have that much of a gap, you're seeing him like this he's an old man.” his mother commented making him groan.

“Ammie, I'm barely thirty one.” she eyed him playfully.

“And you don't have shame, you're even saying it, don't bring wife and see, I'll marry you off to lantana from my father’s village.”

“You've never been there fa.” he turned laughing before she could do or say anything.

“You shouldn't stress him, when the time is right for them they'll bring wives, we should just pray for Allah to give them the pious spouses, that's more important than then being married.” Barr. Salima agreed with a nod, but in her heart she'd made a choice and she only needed the go ahead from her husband.

**** **** ****

Kaduna, Nigeria

“Mamana,” (My mother) Hajiya Ladidi sat on the bed, Khadijah turned to her with tired eyes.

She wanted to smile but didn't have the energy, she couldn't remember when last her mother had called her that and it made her want to cry.

“Kiyi hakuri,” (Take heart) she's never heard her mother talk so soft before, never in her life. “What your sister said was wrong and completely unreasonable, but please do not let it hinder you.”

Khadijah let the tears fall, it wasn't Baraka's fault, maybe she shouldn't have talked but she didn't lie.

“It's okay, she didn't lie.” an image of her cradling a baby popped up in her mind, she squeezed her eyes shut to get rid of it, but missed it paid at the dream she knew would never be, she would never hold a child that's hers.

“What she said wasn't right, I hope you know you're amazing just as you are, and the three you lost will be your saviors on judgment day insha Allah, and they'll love you like you deserve to be loved.” she patted her arms lovingly then left the room.

Khadijah laid still her as mother's words ran through her mind. The loss of a child wasn't easy, it didn't matter if you've seen the child or not, it's exactly the same, that connection and she'd felt it with every child that graced her womb, and the pain of lost was new each time, it hurt so much she felt like the connection was being severed physically, torturously slow, but she would've taken the pain, anytime if one of them would've stayed.

She didn't care for the fact that she would never have left if a child was involved, and as much as she wouldn't have wanted a child growing up in an abusive home, she was selfish enough to want, even if it was like that.

She didn't know how long she’d laid there thinking of what would've been.

Khadijah hadn't put much expectation in her marriage, she was the kind of person that knew what they wanted and what they didn't, Suleiman was someone she didn't want but for the sake of her parents she’d agreed to marry him, even with that, she didn't expect a loving home or acceptance from his family, they hadn't like her and she was fine with it, she wasn't a people pleaser.

She didn't dream of romantic walks and traveling the world together, or any of those cute things, she'd been realistic and wanted to face her challenges head first.

On her wedding day, she realized the little hope of them growing together, compromising and simply learning to be together wasn't going to work because he was a selfish person, he cared only about himself and what his mother thought, she knew that as he'd taken from her virgin body and left her in tears and pain, and even that wasn't enough, he’d made her cook for fifteen of his friends and they went around greeting all his family members because it was ‘tradition’ a day after that.

Though they had a pretty much simple wedding, she was still exhausted from all the activities, he wasn’t patient and she hadn’t expected him to wait for her but she gave him benefit of the doubt, she realized that was the biggest mistake of her life.

She didn't know much about traditions, but she knew a bride wouldn't start cooking until after at least a week, that hadn't stopped her resolve, she wanted them to make it, for them to learn to live in peace, but he'd only wanted what he wanted for himself, and left her picking from scraps that he'd dropped.

Her phone ringing brought her out of her train of thoughts, she considered not picking but decided to fight it like her mother had said, she would be strong, she answered after that small pep talk.

“Hey Dee, how are you?” she couldn't tell whose voice it was, but it sounded like Layla to her, she didn't know what it was, maybe be genuineness in the question, or maybe how soft the voice was, something about it made her tears fall, she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to, she has been strong for so long, she wanted to, she needed to cry.

“Subhanallah, Dee are you okay? Is something wrong?” she couldn’t make out what the person asked but they talked.

She opened her mouth but only a sob escaped, she tried to form words but couldn't, she could hear the persons agitated voice asking her to say something and she did, but what left her lips was something she’d never pictured herself saying, something she’d pushed to the back of her mind to lessen the hurt.

“I can't have kids.”

“What are-” she hung and threw the phone on the bed, she curled into a ball at edge the bed and cried not caring that any wrong movement would land her on her bottom. She didn't know for how long she laid there curled into herself, she cried until she could only gasp for air, and when she could only heave, she felt herself losing consciousness but she didn't mind, she embraced it, hoping this time when she closed her eyes, she'll be able to hold her children.

I'm still here😁😁😁

Super short compared to the first, oh whelps

Amyrah

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