Chapter 42- Homecoming

The flight back home wasn’t as terrible as she thought it would be. She slept throughout the flight as the exhaustion of the last hours had finally caught up to her.

The ride to Janbulo was quite as she stared into the scenery; the busy streets of Kano, the hawkers at the roadside and the traffic jam that never seized to exist since the renovations for the roads have begun. Oh, how she missed her home.

Occasionally, Umar’s gaze would flick to Najmah through the rearview mirror before going back to the road. He was anxious to get home so he would inquire about her return.

He had wanted to grill her for answers when she had phoned him to pick her up at the airport but she had disconnected the call before he could get a word out and when he had tried calling back, she had switched off her cell. And now, as he was driving towards their parent’s house, he couldn’t help but wonder what had got her so shaken up. Could this be about her husband? Could he have hurt her? If so, he would be on the next flight to Istanbul and show that Turk the repercussion of his actions.

{••}

“Assalamu Alaikum,” they said in unison, stepping into the living room where Hajiya Salma and Alhaji Haroun were seated, watching DW news. Their conversation seized as their gaze settled on their youngest, whose face was puffy after a long night of crying.

“Najmah?” Hajiya Salma gasped. “What happened to you?”

She kept mute, staring unnervingly at the carpeted floor of their living room. Umar placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently into the living room, settling down on a recliner while she stood rooted to the ground, her gaze still unmoving.

"Are you alright, Najmah?" her father's voice broke through her trance, and that's when her resolve finally gave way as she sank to the floor, bawling her eyes out.

"Subhanallah, me ya faru? Me ya sa kike kuka?" Hajiya Salma rose to her feet, holding Najmah. 

(what happened? Why are you crying?)

Najmah shook her head, holding her mother tightly like her life depended on her.

"Ki gaya mani nace! Me ya sameki?" (Tell me! What happened to you?)

"Salmah," Alhaji Haroun spoke, raising his hand up to halt her inquisitions. "Take her to her room. We will find out what happened later."

"Abba if he hurt her, he will..."

"Umar, we will deal with that later when we find out what actually happened."

{••}

Najmah ran through the night street, the chilly wind drying her tears. Her feet were aching, and her head was pounding rhythmically, making her pause her run to a jog. She was grateful when she found a café that was still operating, so she heads in without a second thought.

She went towards the counter and ordered a cup of hot chocolate before settling down in a booth at the back of the café so she could have privacy.

She could feel eyes on her, but that was the least of her problem; she had nowhere to go and no money to buy a ticket to leave Istanbul.

Sipping her hot choco slowly, she grabbed her phone from her bag and dialled the person she always called when she had problems and had no one to talk to. Even though the last time she had seen him, they had parted ways on bad terms, she could only wish that he would be able to help her out.

She listened as the phone ring and before she could hang up, he had already picked up. She was silent until she heard him call out her name.

"Najmah?" his voice was soothing enough to calm her jilted mind, and she inhaled sharply, dropping the cup she was holding.

"I need you," she croaked, her voice hoarse from her crying.

He was silent for a while before he exhaled deeply and she could imagine him biting his lip and pushing a hand through his hair. She almost smiled at the thought before remembering the gravidity of her situation.

"Are you still there?" she bit her lip in anticipation.

"Yes." And she could almost imagine him nodding his head solemnly.

"Text me your address, and I will be there in a few."

She hung up the call and took a long sip of her hot choco before asking one of the waiters the address of the café. He called out the address as she typed on her phone, sniffling at intervals. She thanked him before returning her gaze back to her cup.

She felt a presence and Najmah raised her head, thinking that it was the man she had called, but instead, it was the waiter she had asked the address from.

He handed her a box of tissue and she stared at him perplexed. "I didn't order this."

"It is on the house," he smiled at her, dropping the box. She managed a small tight-lipped smile at him before picking a tissue and dabbed on her face to wipe away the remnants of her tears.

The doorbell chimed as another customer walked in. She looked upward and her gaze fell on him. She let out a relieved sigh before she felt the anxiety begin to build up in the pit of her stomach. Would he help her?

"What happened?" he queried as he sat down across from her. "Why did you call?"

"I need your help," she whispered, drumming her finger on the table. His gaze travelled to her movement, and he smiled, knowing that it was a habit of hers born out of nervousness.

"What do you need?"

"I need you to loan me...," she licked her dry lips, pushing back the tears that were at the corner of her eyes. "I need to buy a plane ticket back home and I have no money with me. I'll return you back every cent once I return home."

"After what happened, you still called me to ask for help?"  he inquired, leaning back into his chair.

"I have no one else."

"Did he hurt you?" he whispered lowly, afraid of what her answer might be.

"Not physically," she shrugged, taking a sip of her choco.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

She shook her head.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You can stay at the hotel that I am staying, I'll book you a plane ticket also and don't worry, you don't have to pay me back. Consider this as a token for the relationship we once had."

"Thank you, but you don't have to, I'll pay you back."

"Najmah don't be stubborn okay? In memory of what we once shared, let me do this for you."

"I really thought you wouldn't come," she stated, drumming her fingers on the table. "All things considered."

"I'll always be there for you if you need me. I'm sorry about what I said the last time we met, I was just angry and upset. I was hurt, and I shouldn't have said what I said."

She hummed in response, draining the last remnant of her hot choco. "I shouldn't have judged you too."

"Water under the bridge?" he cocked his eyebrow.

"Toast," she replied, her lips lifting up into a smile. Despite her state, she couldn't help but smile; that was the effect he had on her.

•••

"Najmah, where are you? You should get some rest we have an early flight tomorrow and..." Aslan stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the empty room. Her bags were there, but she wasn't, and that's when the reality of the situation hit him.

He told her to leave, he called her names. He voiced out all her insecurities and then sent her out. How could he do such a thing? How could he hurt so? How could he hurt the woman that he loved? But that was his reality; hurting the people that he loved the most.

The pain she must be feeling could not be compared with the pain she would feel when she came to realise who he truly was. Letting her go was the best solution for both of them but it truly hurt him.