Whatever Happens
# CHAPTER NINETEEN
Life did not stop simply because Se’ad had begun talking to a mysterious man called Nasib Wali. University still demanded its dues.
Lectures came with their endless notes.
Assignments appeared at the most inconvenient hours.
There were mornings when she would wake up late, throw on her clothes, tie her hijab in the quickest manner possible and run across campus with her bag bouncing against her side, only to arrive at the lecture hall breathless and pretending she had not just sprinted halfway across Gombe State University.
There were evenings spent with Hauwa, arguing over food. There were calls from Mama and occasional conversations with Abba that were becoming easier than they used to be.
There was Labeeb, who could call at the most ridiculous hour just to announce something that could have waited until morning.
And somewhere in between all of it, Se’ad was healing. Or at least, she thought she was.
The memories of Ridhwan no longer attacked her every morning. She could hear his name without feeling as though someone had reached inside her chest. She had stopped checking whether he was online. Stopped rereading old conversations and imagining what she would say if he suddenly came back and told her he had changed his mind.
Perhaps this was what healing looked like. Not forgetting. Just finally being able to remember without breaking. And Se’ad was beginning to believe she had reached that place.
Until Nass came along and complicated everything in an entirely different way.
---
He had become part of her routine without either of them acknowledging it. A snap in the morning.
A random photograph in the afternoon then a message at night. Sometimes nothing at all.
Sometimes hours of conversation other times just a stupid picture followed by an even stupider caption. And somehow, it was enough. Nass never demanded her attention. He didn't suffocate her with messages and didn't ask where she was every minute. He simply appeared. And whenever he did, Se’ad found herself smiling. That was the problem.
She had begun associating his name with happiness. And she was terrified of doing that again.
---
One particular afternoon, she noticed something unusual. Nothing. No snap. No message, random photograph of a meal or Spider-Man nonsense. Nothing.
Twelve hours passed. She told herself she didn't care. She went to class, Came back and Scrolled through her phone. Still nothing .
“Why are you checking your phone every five minutes?” Hauwa asked from across the room.
“I am not.”
“You just did.”
“I was checking the time.”
Hauwa raised an eyebrow.
“You've checked the time six times.”
Se’ad frowned.
“Leave me alone.”
Hauwa laughed.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was.”
Se’ad threw a pillow at her. Hauwa dodged it, laughing. “You're weird!”
“So are you!” For a few minutes, the thought disappeared. Then her phone vibrated. She glanced at it. Her heart jumped before she could stop it. Snapchat Nass💵 sent you 3 snaps.
Three.
She sat up immediately. “Ya Allah.” She opened the first. A photograph. Only one side of his face was visible. He was wearing what appeared to be a white jalabiya, the fabric falling loosely around his shoulders. The picture had been deliberately angled. His face was partially hidden. And underneath it: Is this good enough?
Se’ad stared. Then laughed. “This man!”
She opened the second. And this time—
There he was. His entire face. Radiant.
Dark skin illuminated softly by the light around him. Those slender dark eyes. The black-framed glasses. The naturally pinkish lips. That calm expression that always seemed to carry the faintest suggestion of mischief. The white jalabiya made his complexion look even richer, while the simplicity of it somehow made him more striking. His caption read: “Yeah, that is better.” Se’ad burst into laughter.
She replied immediately. “Yesss, it's good 🥹”
Then she opened the third. She froze.
The photograph showed his hand pulling a gold chain from beneath the collar of his jalabiya. The chain caught the light Not excessively. Just enough to make it obvious that it was beautiful.
His caption: “I wanted to show you my jewelry.”
Se’ad blinked. Once. Twice. Then laughed. “Your jewelry??” His response: “Yes.” She stared at the photograph again. There was something about the casualness of it. He hadn't sent it to show off. He had sent it because he wanted her to see it. That realization made something warm bloom inside her. There was definitely more to her mysterious gentleman than met the eye.
Or, in their case— more than met the Snap.
She smiled.
Who exactly are you, Nasib Wali?
---
Their conversations became deeper after that.
Not every day. Not every hour. But whenever they spoke, there seemed to be another layer.
He remembered little things she had mentioned weeks earlier. The food she liked. Things she disliked. The fact that she hated being ignored.
The fact that she could get annoyed quickly but calm down just as quickly and that she sometimes disappeared when overwhelmed.
He noticed. And he never made her feel guilty for it.
One evening, they were talking casually when Se’ad suddenly stopped typing. She stared at the screen. There was something she had wanted to tell him. Something embarrassingly small. Yet somehow enormous.
She typed: “Can I tell you something?”
His response appeared almost immediately. “Of course. Throw anything at me.”
She smiled. Then her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She could tell him. Or she could remain quiet. She chose the first option. “Wallahi, ever since the last time I heard you laugh, I haven't been able to get it out of my head.” She stopped. Her heart began beating faster. Then she continued. “I think about it every day.” She stared at the words.Was that too much? Before she could delete it, another thought came. She typed: “What can I do to hear you laugh again?” Send.
Her stomach immediately twisted. The typing indicator appeared. Then stopped. Appeared again. Then disappeared. Finally, his message came. “When did you hear me laugh?” Se’ad's heart skipped. There was no teasing in the message. No laughing emoji or playful response
Just a question. She replied: “The last time we talked.” Then: “You laughed. Not that small chuckle you always do. An actual laugh.”Silence.
She waited. One minute. Five. Ten. Nothing.
Then finally: “I'm on my way home.” She frowned. “Okay?” he replied “We'll talk when I get back.” She stared at the screen. That was it.
No explanation. No joke. Nothing.
She put her phone down Then picked it up again.
lWhy did he say it like that?
---
Almost thirty minutes later, her phone vibrated.
A message. “Honey, I'm homeeee.” She burst out laughing. Her heart softened instantly.
She typed: “Welcome back, sweetheart 😂”
His response came almost immediately. “Hmm.”
She smiled.Then another message appeared
“About what you said.” Her smile disappeared.
“Tell me more, If you're not shy, that is.”
She stared at the screen. Her heart was beating too fast. If you're not shy. She looked away.
Then back at the phone, and typed something. Deleted it. Typed again. Deleted that too.
Ten minutes passed. She sat there, staring at the empty message box. What was she doing?
She could simply laugh it off. Say she was joking. Tell him she had exaggerated.
Pretend she hadn't meant anything by it. That would be easier. Safer. But there was something about Nass that made pretending feel impossible.
Perhaps because he had never demanded anything from her. Perhaps because he had somehow created a space where she could speak without feeling judged, because she was tired of keeping every feeling locked inside herself. She inhaled slowly. Then whispered to hersel “Whatever happens, happens.”
Her fingers moved. And this time, she didn't delete anything.
---
“I don't actually know how to say this” She stopped. Then continued. “And honestly, I'm scared that once I say it, things between us might become weird.” She waited. No response yet. So she kept going. “But you asked me to tell you more, so I'm going to.” Her heart was pounding now.
“Wallahi, I don't know when it happened. I don't know exactly when talking to you stopped being something I just enjoyed and became something I started looking forward to. She swallowed.
I don't know when your snaps became the first thing I'd check sometimes, or why your voice stays in my head after we talk.” She paused.
Her eyes stung unexpectedly. I don't know when I started smiling whenever your name appeared on my screen” She breathed in. Then finally wrote the sentence that terrified her most.
“But I think I fell in love with you.” Her thumb froze above the screen. She almost stopped.Then she continued. “Maybe I shouldn't say that. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe I'm being stupid.” “But I don't know how else to explain it.
I fell for the mystery first. Then the weirdness.
Then the way you somehow manage to make me laugh without even trying. Then your voice, your stupid Spider-Man obsession.” She smiled through the nervousness. “your kindness, the way you listen, the way you remember little things I tell you and the way you make me feel like I can just be myself. Her eyes burned.
And I didn't plan any of this. I wasn't looking for it. Especially not after everything I've been through.” She stopped again. This part mattered.
“I was actually scared of liking someone again. I promised myself I wouldn't let myself fall blindly for anyone. But somehow, with you, I did.”
She stared at the screen.
Then typed the words she had been most afraid of. “And the worst part is that I don't even regret it.”
Her breathing became uneven. “Maybe Allah wrote this feeling before I even knew your name
Maybe I'm supposed to meet you. Maybe I'm supposed to know you. Maybe I'm not. I don't know. I don't know what happens after this.” Her thumb hovered. One final confession. “You might hate me for saying this. You might stop talking to me.You might not feel anything close to what I feel. And if that's what happens, I'll accept it.”
She wiped the corner of her eye. Then sent the last line. “But I couldn't keep it inside anymore.” Send. The message disappeared upward. Delivered. She stared at the screen. No reply.
One minute, Five. Her heart began sinking.
What have I done? She locked her phone.Unlocked it. Nothing. She placed it face down. Then picked it up again. Still nothing. She whispered, “Ya Allah…”
For the first time since she had met Nasib, she wished she had remained silent.
Then—
typing… Se’ad froze. The words appeared.
“I don't hate you.” Her breath caught. Another message. “Not even close.” She stared. The typing indicator appeared again.
And this time, whatever Nasib Wali was about to say would change the shape of their relationship forever.