52: Soul Imprints

It had been a day already, but he hadn’t woken up. Mama let her sleep with him yesterday night and they had all evacuated tonight too. Wafiyya and Sulaiman had gone back to Abuja because they all had work to do and they were rest assured that he will be taken care of. Sulaiman told her that his father didn't know he was married yet, she knew how Hajia had turned him into, they would have to wait until Yazeed woke up and he would fight that battle himself. She was seated beside on the Italian bed, they had him transferred into a VIP room because she wanted him to have the best kind of rest, even though it didn’t matter unless he woke up.

His hands were in hers as she smiled but something was surely weighing her heart down. Why was it that he still didn't wake up? She thought the doctors said that he would wake up tonight? And it was getting to midnight, but he looked the same like he was, yesterday after he was brought out of the operating room. She wondered if something had gone wrong with him. But his heart rate was doing just fine even though she wasn't a doctor to understand any medical problem. She smiled and wondered what he would feel if he woke up and she told him that she was now his wife. How would he act? Would he even believe her? That made her chuckle because she knew he would have to doubt it at first.

She thought it was merely an illusion when his eyes began to open by themselves and she fixed her eyes on him to see if it was what she was truly seeing. And it turned out, Yazeed was finally waking up like the doctors had predicted, which was the happiest she had been in a very long time now. She smiled and waited until he opened his eyes on her and it seemed he was having a blurry vision because he asked, “Ballerina?” And she nodded her head at him with tears in her eyes.

He lounged to sit upright, and she helped him do so, her heart rumbling with emotions she didn’t know existed. She wanted to tell him the good news, but then some part of her was against it. She was afraid maybe he wouldn’t want to marry anymore now? Because of what he went through, and it was solely because of her. “How are you feeling, Yazeed? Do I have to call the doctor?” She asked softly and tried to stand up, but he firmly held her hand that was in his. If the strength he used in holding her would be termed as firmness.

Yazeed leaned more onto the pillow she put on his back and softly shook his head. “You don’t have to; I think I'm fine now. Are you?” He could remember her being held roughly by those men, and even though the sight hurt him to watch while knowing he couldn’t do anything about it because he was so sick, and breathing could take a minute or more to do so.

“I am. Do you some help? Should I call a male nurse or someone?” She didn’t want to unleash the bomb just yet, he had to consume the feeling of just being alive now. Happy that he had made it through his massive attack and the mild surgery he underwent.

“I’ll have to take my bathe first, but I can do it on my own. You just need to set the water for me, please?” He politely asked, not wanting to push her to her limits. She nodded her head and walked to the bathroom, Yazeed followed her retreating back and wondered what he did to deserve such an amazing woman. She wanted him, she saved him and uttered in the face of her ex-husband that she loved him and wanted to marry him. It didn't matter whether she meant it or not, it also didn’t matter if she would take forever before she would answer him, what mattered now was, he loved her and would forever do.

She came out of the bathroom holding up the sleeves of her abaya while she smiled softly at him, “Sulaiman brought some of your clothes, I know you’d like to wear a jallabiyya because it’s more comfortable. I'll take it to the bathroom for you so you can get out of these hospital wears, I know how uncomfortable they are.” She said and moved to the trolley Sulaiman brought for him.

He moved to the edge of the bed with so much aplomb and asked, “Sulaiman camel? I'm sure Wafiyya did too, right?” His voice was soft and low, and she looked at him with all the tenderness in this world. As if he was but an egg that if she looked at him harder than she did now, he would break.

She held the garments in her hands and nodded her head with a smile, “You guess right, they did. They just left in the evening today, something about work but they’ll be back here anytime soon. You can get in now; do you need some?” She gestured at the way he was finding it so hard to stand up and he softly shook his head.

“I've made you cried hard enough not to make your work again. I think I can do it, Ballerina. Thanks though.” She smiled and watched him got into the bathroom. Jalilah cleared the room and warmed the food for him, she told Mama about all the things he loved, she was sure he would eat one of the tons.

Shortly, he came out while holding the wall for support. She watched him came to the prayer mat she laid for him and began to pray. After he was done, Jalilah sat down beside him and pointed at the warmers, “What would you like to eat, Yazeed? I've asked them to make all your favorites, I know them all, you know? Just tell me which one you have in mind.”

She chuckled when he smiled and pouted his lips, thinking of the right thing to tell her he wanted. “Anything, as long as it’s edible and watery, I wouldn’t like something so heavy.” And she served him, stayed by his side as she watched him eat as silently as he could. Something was off with him, he wanted to ask her something, she noticed.

“Say it out,” she said after he had finished his meal and he looked at her with a surprised smile. Her heart wanted to burst, this man was now her husband, but home training would have her act right until she told him she was his wife first, right?

“Why are you smiling like that? Blushing even. And what should I say out?” He smiled at her. He had been noticing something unusual about Jalilah, but he couldn’t point a finger at it. She looked calm, responsible and had been blushing since he woke up.

“What you have on your mind, I know there’s something in there.”

“Oh, I sure have something in here; it’s your love. Is falling asleep enough of a space for you or you need more? I want to be your husband Jalilah as fast as I could, please.” He gave her the best puppy eyes that she was sure he didn't know he was pulling off and she smiled at him.

This was what she had been waiting for, “I have something to show you.” She said excitedly and reached for her phone. She came back and looked at him, “Can I?” She pointed at the space beside him, in such a way that she would have to rest on his chest if she sat, and he nodded his head at her.

She sat down and when he wanted to ask her what she wanted to show him was, she pointed at her phone. It was a video. First, it was Uncle Yusuf addressing him about how he should take care of his baby for him, and if he dared make her cry again, he would have to come and make him regret his mistake. The second was Mama, she was shyly smiling and praying that they have a good life together. Then came Sulaiman, taunting him that he should start referring to him as his father from today onward because he presented him as his wakil today. Then came Wafiyya with the sentimental tears laughing and telling him she was proud of him for not giving up on Jalilah, they could finally adopt Yazeed jr. And a video was attached, of course, it was Farha from the confines of her room in Lagos, warning him with smiles and laughter that if he dared make her best friend cry again, she would make sure he would never see her again. The last slide that came to his awe-stricken eyes was of Jalilah sitting beside him on the hospital bed with his hands in hers while she stared at his face as her family and his chorused a ‘We wish you all the love and laughter in your marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Bunza.’

He took the phone away from her hand and placed it down, turning to face her completely with his eyes holding up his confusing, excitement, hope that it was true. “This...” He let his words trailed off until after he got his tune back, “Is it true? What they’re saying, I mean?” He stuttered as he asked her the question and Jalilah nodded at him with a smile, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“We got married after they brought you out of the theatre room, I hope I didn’t...” He merged their lips in passionate sync that Jalilah had never been kissed by him. He kissed her hard, showing her his appreciation and his undying love. It was so intense until he broke their hug and smiled at her, then chuckled, with tears brimming his eyes as he pinched her cheeks.

“Do you mean this, Jalilah? I mean, we’re married now, husband and wife? We can have babies, right?” He asked and she chuckled before she nodded her head and hid on his chest.

He brought her up so he could stare into her eyes while he made sure what she was telling him was indeed true. “No, I mean it, Jalilah. I can kiss you?” He asked he wanted to make sure. He knew this wasn’t the first time he was kissing her, but this time it was different. He wouldn’t be afraid of what it would lead it. He would even be looking up to what it would lead to between them.

“Yes, you can kiss me for as long as you want, without fear.” She chuckled at how pleased, calm, and excited he looked.

“I can also hug you; it doesn’t matter whether you’re in your abaya, in a towel, I can replace your teddy bears, right?” He knew he sounded dumb as if this was his first time knowing what was permissible for a husband and wife to do.

She chuckled and nodded her head, “You can do that, Yazeed, as long as you want to.”

He palmed his face, chuckled, and pecked her forehead, he couldn't believe this. “I can touch you, wherever I want to, anytime I feel like. There are no restrictions, and I won’t be afraid of what it will lead to.”

She whined and palmed her face, staring at him through the openings of her fingers, “Yazeed! Oh my god, yes you can.”

He laughed at how shy she looked and decided to give it a try first. “I can touch...” He let his words trailed off, skeptical at first, but hell, he had waited for so long that it could kill him now. “Here?” He placed his hand on his chest, cupping the forbidden fruit she had never imagined to be touched by Yazeed. She placed her hand on top of his and smiled.

“Yes, you can Yazeed.” But she knew she couldn’t hold this eye stare for long, and she hid her face into his chest.

He brought her face up and had a smile on his lips, “Thank you for being my wife, Jalilah. Thank you so much.”

She smiled and hugged him tightly, “It has always been my wish to be your Mrs., Yazeed. Thank you for being my husband too.” She stood up because she knew if they sat there in this position longer than three minutes there was nothing that could stop them from being intimate right at this instant.

“I'll help you to get on the bed, it’s late and it’s not good for your health to stay up late. I think I should even call the doctor for you.” He was just staring at her when they got to the bed. He still couldn’t believe it that Jalilah was now his wife, his lawful Mrs. He had never been blessed in his life like he was now. She made his life even better and he could never get over this feeling.

She was about to walk away from the bed when he pulled her to him, “Yazeed! I need to take my bath!” She whined, she knew where this was going, and she was suddenly afraid. No, it wasn’t like she was afraid that much, but he was sick, not strong enough. The doctor wanted him to rest, right?

“Jalilah, I want you. I mean, you know what I mean!” He whined to her too and she chuckled.

“You weren’t like this before, come on, I was the one pestering you when I thought we were married then. Get a feeling of it, dear husband. I'll take my bath first.” She kissed him lightly on the lips and ran to the bathroom laughing at the groan he was making.

She came out of the bathroom and met him watching the video again, smiling widely as if that was the first time he was seeing it. When he heard the sound the door made when she came out of the bathroom, he looked up to comment about the smug look on Sulaiman’s face when he was talking but his mouth dropped. No, he had to close his eyes and take his breath. She wasn’t the one!

“Jalilah...” He whispered and looked straight into her eyes. She was in her towel, and you know there were those kinds of decent towels that descend to your knees or even below the knees, right? This wasn’t that kind of towel. It was short, nearly reaching her mid-thigh and the baby pink color of the towel complimented her skin color more than any attire she had ever worn.

“You have to close your eyes, Yazeed! I forgot to take my nightdress with me to the bathroom, sorry about this.” She walked to where wardrobe and Yazeed knew there was only one way to avoid her from wearing anything tonight.

“Ugh! Jalilah, my chest!” He groaned painfully and in a swift, she was beside him on the bed.

She placed her hand on his chest while trying so hard to pin her towel with the other. “What’s wrong, Yazeed? Should I call the doctor? Where’s hurting you?” She asked, agitated.

And instead of an answer, Yazeed used his hand and took off her firm hold on her towel, it slid off her chest and she screamed, hugging him to avoid him from taking a glimpse. He flipped them on the bed in a way that he was now hovering over her and no matter how she wanted, she couldn’t hide anything from him. “Yazeed,” she whined, pouting her lips while trying to close her eyes so she couldn’t see the look on his face. “You cheated; you broke a rule!”

Instead of an answer, she felt his lips on her left bosom and she surged in a huge breath. The next words she wanted to speak became guttural because she had never, in her life felt something close to this. His hands were all over her body, and when he looked up to her, his eyes were a shade of blood. “Yazeed,” she spoke breathless, “You’re sick.”

He moved to her lips and kissed her so hard that it got to the point that she knew she couldn’t look into his eyes the next morning. He parted from her lips and began his survey on her body. “Ballerina,” it was so hard to comprehend what he was saying because of how choked up his words were. She didn’t know how he had taken off his jallabiya and when she stared at his bare chest, she couldn't help but place her hand on it.

“I've always loved to do this,” she said, her hands moving around his chest while she was trying so hard not to look into his eyes. “I love you, Yazeed, you know that, right?” She asked with a low and weak voice, Yazeed had his bloodshot eyes that were coated with desire on her body, her towel already thrown on the carpet of the hospital room.

He placed his hand back onto her chest, down to the temple that no saint deserved to worship but he who she trusted enough, loved so fierce. And she couldn’t think of the perfect man but Yazeed, she closed her eyes, drowned into the desire that she didn’t know when she pulled him closer to her, her lips into his and she whispered, “The lights, turn them off.” She felt as he pulled over the duvet on them and beside the bed, the switch got turned off.

Maybe she had always dreamt about how it would feel, how breathtaking he would make her feel. But nothing could beat the feeling of being intimate with Yazeed. Not the kind of intimacy they were used to, having a soul-to-soul conversation, hugs, and their kisses she thought she would treasure forever. This felt great, and the way their moans were synchronizing with the way they souls were being paired together was something she would love to cherish forever. She felt him fully immersed in the depth of her hidden treasure, making sure he left an imprint there, a trademark that no soul could ever reach. And when the raging waves were all calm, he slumped on her chest and hugged her as though his left depended on her.

It took them minutes, maybe nearly an hour trying to recollect their breaths, their strength and bring back all their broken pieces to be fused into a whole. They were facing each other now on the same pillow, as he held her firmly to remind himself that she was now his, forever. “How did it happen? I mean, you were married before, Ballerina.”

She smiled lovingly, feeling the way he was tenderly caressing her face, loving her through his touches. “I’ve never let him do it. Or maybe, at first, he has never asked and later I realized he wasn’t worth it.”

He brought her closer to his body, raining kisses on her face while he thanked her, “Thank you for preserving this for me, Ballerina. I love you; I love you a lot.” And she responded in the only way she knew would make them happy.