[C]
She knew there was enough distance between them, but he saw everything she did from his table. “I'll tell you this, but not because I'm sure that you haven't noticed, but because I want to get it off my chest. One, when I was home, and whenever it happened which is once in a decade, my mom always noticed, and she will rain compliments on me until I take it. I don’t understand this, you’re the only person I have close to a friend in Abuja...”
“I'm not your friend, I'm your boss.” He corrected her, and this time when Jalilah wanted to roll her eyes, she didn’t look away from him.
“I know, boss. But at least I expected that you must have noticed.”
“What is that? In case you don’t know, I have something to do but I paused it to listen to you.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.” The look he flashed her made her palmed her lips and she muttered a simple, “I’m sorry.”
“Okay, I wore an Ankara today! That’s it, that’s the news, Boss! And you haven’t said anything about it like you acted as if you haven’t noticed.”
He gave her this sly smile and she felt as her heart skyrocketed to Jupiter before it ran back. “Just because you wore an Ankara that’s why you expected it to be the headlines on every news station or what? What if those girls in other continents that have never worn something close to Ankara, the day they did, should it be a piece of international news? Please, get back to your work.”
She looked at him, and with her expression, he knew she was truly hurt. Pain hardly ever showed on her face but today it did and he felt so bad for making her feel that way Even though he knew that was the safest thing to do. Because he was sure complimenting her now would only give her false hope because he knew that was what she wanted. A compliment from him. And something crossed his mind, what Sulaiman had said in his text, ‘But it looks like the girl likes you and she’s beautiful without a doubt.’ He couldn't admit the first sentence, but the second, today that she had worn this Ankara, he had no choice but to admit that to himself. As much as he wanted to say this to her because it clearly showed that it was what she wanted to hear so bad, he had to refrain himself, for her sake.
She opened her mouth to protest but she motioned for her MacBook, “Your work.”
She turned back to her laptop with her shoulders sagged in defeat and pain, and he ducked his head back to his work as well. They kept working in silence, today, she didn't even ask him if she had to or if she had to do something more on the files. She just kept working, and if he could add, aggressively. The only thing that was passed between them was the emails as she sent him the work done. When it was time for prayer, he watched as she walked out while dialling a number on her phone which he was sure was Wafiyya, and something struck at his heart.
Behold, she wasn’t there when he got to the elevator. He was walking to the mosque while thinking of what had happened, something in him told him what he did was right, but somewhere, deep down to the part of him he had closed years ago, it hinted to him that what he did wasn’t right. She was just a cheerful lady excited that she had walked out of her comfort zone and worn something different for the day. A tap landed on his shoulder, but he didn't have to look to know it was Sulaiman. He was the only person that could do that to him in the company.
“I’m tired,” Sulaiman whined and kept flexing his arms to massage his muscles.
“Why don’t you go home and rest? You’re the HR so you can excuse yourself.”
“No, but I have some works left to do. Hey, how have you been?” He loved the way that even if they had it been with Sulaiman, the next to them they saw each other would be completely different as if it had never happened.
“I’ve been fine, and you? How’s your wife and the baby?”
“They’re all fine. But, Yazeed, are you sure everything is fine?” Sulaiman asked and fixed his inquisitive eyes on him. Whenever he did that to him, he knew he got to find out about something he didn't want him to know.