A hidden secret was all it took…Can they ever trust again?

For Haleema, it was love at first sight and Faruq was the man she chose. They were madly in love and the only thing they were waiting for was to be married.

But when the time came, at the very last minute, they were said to be long-lost siblings.
Haleema and Faruq were quickly shoved into a world of lies, chaos, secrets, and destiny.

Will they ignore everything and marry or will they embrace separation? Would they ever trust again?

Does LOVE CONQUER it all?

This is not your average romance happily ever after story but if you want a change of event, then get ready to meet Haleema and Faruq as they embark on the journey of LOVE and DESTINY together.

Chapter One

Haleema’s POV

The noise woke her up. It always does. She should have been used to it by now but it always becomes new every night. She pushed off the duvet, its soft warmth clinging briefly to her skin before she quietly walked to her door. She gently pushed it open moving with a silent grace along the passage. The floor beneath her bare feet, cool and smooth, welcomed her hushed steps as she approached where the noise was coming from. The closer she gets, the louder the thuds amidst muffled voices coming from her parent’s room.

“Did the noise wake you up?” She quickly jerked her head towards the voice and found her older brother Umar, staring down at her small frame. She shyly nodded her head.
“Come on let’s get you back to bed,” He said and gently held her hand heading back to her room.

“I hate you, Mahmood.!.. I regret the day I decided to wed you!.. I wish for you to rot in hell!” Their mother’s voice coming from the closed doors stopped them in their tracks as more crashes continued in the closed room.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the yelling. She was just two years old but she had endured a lot. All she wanted was for the constant quarrel to end. She wanted her mum and dad again.

“Hey let’s go,” Umar gently tugged his sister along.

The quilt was still on the floor exactly where she left it. Umar picked it up and covered her with it as she laid back on the bed.

“Please don’t leave me” Her small voice begged as she held his hand. He smiled and sat close to her.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” He asked
“Uh huh,” She nodded her head eagerly.

He switched off the lamp from her bed stand and chuckled as she snuggled on his chest. He was just four years old but he was what their parent weren’t.

“Tell me the story of the princess and the frog, please?”

“But I have told you a thousand times before” He laughed. He did not understand why she was so obsessed with the story.

“Just tell me”

“Alright, Alright,” He said. “Now listen,…There lives a beautiful princess…”

Umar stopped when he realized she had slept. He pulled away gently and kissed her forehead and made his way quietly to the door.

“Will they ever stop?” Her small voice stopped him before he walked out of the room. He turned with a frown on his face and sadly smiled at her.

“I hope so Leema….I hope so.”

*****

“Wake up sleepy head” I heard my dad call out to me through my subconscious mind as I slowly open my eyes to meet the blurry figure of him poking his head through my half-open door.

“Oh yeah,” I rolled my eyes.”But you know I hate waking up this early” I said lazily as I pulled my blanket to cover my eyes from the bright light coming through the windows into my room.

“Breakfast is ready and yes it is 8 o’clock” I heard him say as he gently closed the door and walked away. I smiled as I listened to the soft patter of his shoes as he walked down the hall probably to his room or the kitchen and my mind wandered back to the dream I had earlier which I strongly believed was a memory.

I have been having them lately and I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were memories of my mum and my elder brother, Umar. The last time I saw them was 18 years ago when I was barely three years old and my little mind could not fathom what a family I had then.

I never remembered my childhood as it was so traumatic and my mind had blocked it. I tried discussing the memories with my father when I started having them but he wouldn’t let us talk about it. He claimed it reminds him of Mum who died when I was two years old. She died together with my elder brother, Umar.
Umar; the name was the only thing I could remember, except for the recent memories I’d been having. He was the sweetest person I knew whose love was genuine. I always wished to have known him better.

“They had an accident” My father had said when I asked him about them and he just kept quiet. I eagerly waited to hear more but it never came. He never let us talk about it ever again. He wouldn’t even keep a picture of them. I don’t know what they look like or anything, He claimed the picture brings back painful memories and he doesn’t want to dwell on it for It would only hurt us more. For that, I believed him.

From all I could remember, Mum was horrible and she was always hurting Dad and didn’t care if it affected us. She was not a good mother and maybe that was why I couldn’t remember what she looked like but the trauma had affected my memories of Umar too.
I felt the tears threatening to drop from my eyelids at the side and wiped them off. Even though Mum was who she was, I missed having her around. I needed them now more than ever.

Dad tried to fill the void of Mum and brother but it was never enough because he was never around. His job required a lot of traveling and I was always alone.

“Are you not supposed to be getting ready for lectures?” My Dad said to me as he peeped into my room again.

“Uhhh!! Please”. I groaned. “Besides, if you were here yesterday or a day before that, you would have known my lecture is by 11 am. Will you let me get back to sleep at all?” I gritted and turned my back to him.

“As you wish,” He said and walked away but I knew it was a matter of time before he came back.

I pushed the blanket off me and stretched while reciting La ilaha illalla Muhammad Rasulullah ( there is no deity of worship except Allah and Muhammad is his messenger) and sat up. I looked at my bedside drawer and picked up my portable alarm clock. It is the shape of an elephant with a truck and flappy ears. Looking at it brought smiles to my face. The clock is what I have left of my brother Umar who gifted it to me on my second Birthday or so my Father told me. According to him, Umar has been pestering him to get him the clock only for Umar to give it out to me on my Birthday. But it hurts that I had nothing of my mum as she spent more time fighting my dad than actually looking after us. The clock means so much to me that I could never part with it Although it stopped working a long time ago.

I took a quick shower before rushing to the closet. I had to find the perfect appropriate muslim outfit as my dad always said. He believes dressing in Jeans and tops even when using an afterdress on is unIslamic. So it is either the traditional Hausa wears or an abaya but no jeans trousers. I went through dress after dress until finally settling for a peach- colored gown with a mint green scarf and slipped on some mint strappy heels. I quickly applied some banana-flavored lip gloss and mascara.

I stood in front of the mirror admiring my looks when my phone rang. I inhaled knowing who it was from the ringtone. I picked it up from my bed and answered the call. It was Faruq and just as usual, he always said things that made me blush. We spoke for a while before the call ended.

I smiled to myself before grabbing my bag and rushing out to meet my dad at the dining table for breakfast. He never eats without me.

“What happened to the milk?” I muttered as I came down to the kitchen and went through the refrigerator. My father was frying some eggs and only glanced at me.

“Good to see you are on your feet” He chuckled.

“When did you arrive?” I asked him as I grabbed the available drink from the fridge and sat on the kitchen stool.

“Last night. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you” He said as he served me breakfast.

My father is a naval captain and so used to traveling that it didn’t bother me anymore. He sometimes leaves before morning or appears after I slept. I wasn’t expecting him when I woke but he was there. He was always taking me along whenever he was posted to a state but since we moved to Benue, I refused to go with him. I needed to focus and it took me a while to convince him but not until he installed security alarms in the house and employed the service of a nanny who stayed in the house with me.

“When are you leaving again?” My voice was accusing. “Oops. You don’t know. You can disappear anytime you want.”

“Come on Lilin Baba, Let’s not argue. We’ve talked about this before” He said sternly. “It will soon be over. I am going to be retired and you have Nanny Binta to keep you company before that.”

“Nanny Binta? Where is she now? Do you even know she had gone to Katsina to look after her daughter and I’ve been living here all by myself for the past week? C’mon Dad.”

“Haleema, I am sorry”. He said and dropped a plate of egg and bread in front of me. “We will have all the time in the world once I am done with my service.”

I looked at the burnt scar he had on the left side of his face and shook my head. I remembered when he got it; He was deployed to Maiduguri and fighting Boko haram when their car was set ablaze. I almost thought he would die. He had been unconscious for almost a month after the incident and I was glad the fire only took part of his face and not him.

“Even after what they did to you? You almost died fighting for the government! You need to let them be and let them get someone else to do their dirty jobs for them!”. I huffed angrily.
“That is what I signed up for Haleema. It is my duty to give my life if needs be, please understand.”

I was about to reply when I heard a car stop. I looked through the kitchen window and saw Faruq, the love of my life who happened to be my best friend’s brother coming out of a car and walking up the front door.

“Bye Dad”. I said mouth stuffed with food and stood up. “I have to go.”

“But you said your lecture is not early and I thought we could spend some time together”
“We will spend some time later. Bye”. I said and hurried out of the house almost colliding with Faruq.

“Wooh, Hajiya lafiya?”. He asked and I sucked in a breath when I looked into his beautiful eyes. He always has that effect on me.

“Let go”. I said but he shook his head.

“You know I can’t leave without greeting Dad first. Shall we?”. He gestured for me to lead him into the house and I shook my head. I am not going back into the room with him and Dad together. He always finds a way to make me blush in front of Dad.

He shrugged and casually walked through the front door. I watched as his muscles flexed and I smiled to myself. Damn, I love that man.

Shattered 2 >>