Fever In The Heart

5. Mrs Abubakar

The feeling was there; that awful feeling that she was doing the wrong thing all over again. It had been eating at her for three days now and it was already too late to stop what was happening.

She was now officially Mrs Abubakar.

The refusal of Samira to attend the wedding had put a dent on Zeenah’s already dented psyche. According to her, the wedding was null and void until they cleansed their selves. Deep down, Zeenah knew she was right one way or the other, but she still couldn't bring herself to accept what they did was wrong and ought to cleanse themselves before marriage.

Well, whatever the case may be, the deed had already been done.

The soft tap on the door brought her out of her reverie. Zeenah quickly drew the veil over her head and ducked her head down, her heart beating in anticipation. Today, it should and would be one of the best days of her life.

Abubakar steppes into the room quietly, his eyes settling on Zeenah with her legs tucked underneath her. He sat beside her on the bed, his eyes trailing over every part of her body he could see through the dimly lighted room. The tension in the room was palpable, so thick that he almost felt like he could reach out and touch it. She said nothing, her head bowed as she waited for him -her husband- to unveil her.

Something was lacking however. And Abubakar noticed it before Zeenah.

The excitement wasn’t there.

The realization hit him like a train at full speed. He ought to be excited, at least even a little bit. This was his first night as a married man and yet all he could feel was this hollow settling in his heart. The s****l tension he had always felt around her for so long now was gone, the excitement also gone. He didn't feel like today was his wedding night.

Instead he felt like a person who had been hoodwinked; that uneasy feeling that eats at one’s soul when they realize that something isn’t quite right.

What had happened? Somewhere along the line, a part of him had been chipped off. He felt like he’d lost sight of who he was, and what their relationship had been.

He slowly lifted the veil and only after looking at her eyes did his heart jump a bit. And then she smiled and his eyes trailed along her wide lips. She was still beautiful, he thought. So why was he still uneasy? What had changed exactly? It surely wasn’t him, because he was certain that he’d woken up today just like every other day. Nothing had changed in him, physically and emotionally.

He decided that it must have been her who changed.

He took both of her hands in his and felt how soft they were just like they had been three days ago. Maybe that was why he was not excited; he knew everything she was and how every part of her body felt when touched. He knew her reaction to every thing and what she liked best.

Before he knew all these, he had been wondering how she would feel in his arms or how she would react to his kisses; he’d wondered how she’d respond to his touch and now, after knowing all that, the thrill was gone, leaving him with the remembrance of the first time every day. It'll never be the same again, he realized sadly.

"We are finally two souls bonded as one,” he said, although the words didn’t even penetrate his own heart. "As of today, we’re two hearts bounded in one and two people bonded as one. I know I'm not a perfect husband, but I'll try as much as I can to always make you happy Zeenah. Thank you for being mine."

She looked at him through her tear-stained face and felt like this was the first time they had met and spoke. It looked so unreal listening to him tell her such words. She had been right when she fell in love with him. Every ounce of guilt she once felt was washed away by his words. She was his, and he was hers.

"Thank you for making me yours," she said. "Thank you for accepting me the way I am. Thank you for your love, and for making me the happiest woman in the world. I love you, and I will always love you."

He knew he still loved her; it wasn’t even a question. What worried him was his lack of excitement of having her in his arms, in his own house, on their matrimonial bed. What the hell was wrong with him?

He hugged her tightly, hoping against all odds that the thrill would come back. Sadly, he felt nothing. Deciding to finally give up, he kissed her on her forehead, and then the tip of her nose and finally her lips before he stood up.

He felt dirty; like he was wearing a garment he hadn’t removed for weeks.

Abubakar looked at her closely and noticed how heavy she breathed. There was nothing he could still do. His excitement had simply evaporated.

"Have a goodnight, Zeenah," he said. "I’ll see you in the morning."

And he left.

Zeenah felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured all over her. What had just happened? What had she done? Shouldn't he be with her on their first night? Shouldn't he hold her in his arms for a while? Ask them to pray and then consummate their marriage?

'What was there to consummate when you've both consummated the marriage before getting married?' her subconscious asked.

She closed her eyes and felt her chest constrict at the pain deep within her. She hoped whatever it was would end today.

*

Abubakar woke up the next day with a terrible migraine. He knew the cause of the migraine was because he hadn't been able to sleep, and the knowledge didn’t do anything to lift his spirits. This was his first night at his own home, with the woman he loved. And yet, there was nothing exciting about it. And that baffled him so much.

He rolled on the bed, moaning as his head throbbed painfully.

Where was the excitement that had been building in his heart for months now? What had happened to their connection?

Bemoaning his aggravating thoughts, he took a slow bath with the thoughts of how Zeenah had slept. Worse than him? Or did she have a good night's rest?

He stepped out of his room and saw her sitting in the living room already. Dressed in a blue and orange ankara, she had draped a blue veil on her head. Her face was glowing and he couldn't resist smiling at the figure before him.

"Good morning, Matar Abubakar Sadeeq," he greeted as he sat beside her.

Zeenah ducked her head down and smiled shyly. "Morning, Angon Zeenah."

"How was your night?" He took both of her hands in his and squeezed, and Zeenah could almost swear she felt a spark she had never felt; not even when he was making her his.

"It was fine, Alhamdulillah. Yours?"

"Terrible," Abubakar replied looking her directly into the eyes. "I couldn't sleep, I don't know why. I wanted to sleep in the same room with you, but I just wasn’t feeling that connection, that excitement or thrill. What happened to us?" he asked slowly.

Zeenah had wondered the same thing. But she knew that they both knew what the answer was; they just didn't want to admit it

"Stress?" she asked slowly, knowing that she was lying.

"Yeah, it’s probably just stress from the wedding," Abubakar agreed before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Assalamu alaikum," they heard a voice from the front door, accompanied by inaudible chatter. Abubakar quickly released her hands and stood up. No doubt it was some of his relatives and hers. Damn! Abubakar thought angrily; now he won't be allowed to spend time with his wife.

Damn some of the Hausa traditions!

1 week later

She knew that something was off, ever since the first night. Zeenah knew that things had changed between them, but she didn't know things would be this way.

They would spend the day together, chat and laugh. But once the night came, their atmosphere changed and they both slept in their separate rooms. This was not what she had wanted nor what she had hoped for.

All these were bonuses to the pains she had been going through for over two weeks now. Nausea, stomach ache, and a strange lightheadedness every time she rose from the bed. She had wanted to tell him initially, but brushed off the issue every time she wanted to. But not anymore. Today, she felt worse and he was yet to check up on her.

Every morning, they met up in the sitting room and exchanged pleasantries. No one goes to the other person's room. They had been acting like strangers rather than married couples.

She winced when she felt her stomach twisting and quickly rushed to the bathroom to throw up. The third time this morning.

She crawled back to her room and sat down on the tiled floor, her back on the bed. She closed her eyes and rested her head by the side of her bed but quickly opened them after a while.

What if? She wondered in shock. What if she really was?

Picking up her phone, she quickly typed a text to Abubakar and waited for him, only to hear the door to her room being banged loudly before it was jacked opened.

"What the hell do you mean by getting you a pregnancy kit?“ he bellowed loudly, his eyes ablaze.