Fire In Words

EPISODE THIRTEEN
Hidden Behind The Apron

The next day, evening arrived quickly, and Imad decided to visit Husna.

Their families had already begun discussing marriage arrangements, and he felt it was time they had a serious conversation about it.

When he arrived at Husna's house, he found only her sisters at home.

“Good evening,” he greeted.

After exchanging pleasantries, he asked where Husna was.

“She went to a get-together,” one of her sisters replied.

“A get-together?”

Imad frowned.

That was strange.

Not only had Husna failed to mention it when they spoke earlier that afternoon, but she also wasn't answering her phone.

And she had no idea he was planning to visit.

The moment her sisters mentioned a get-together, something inside him immediately disagreed.

What kind of gathering started this late in the evening?

Still, he hoped they were telling the truth.

Because if Husna was at a club again...

Then this time, things would be different.

After leaving the house, Imad sat inside his car for several minutes.

He debated what to do.

Should he keep calling her?

Or should he go check the club she frequently visited?

Eventually, for the sake of his own peace of mind, he made a decision.

He would go there.

And hopefully...

He wouldn't find her.

The moment he stepped into the club, the loud music hit him.

Men and women laughed loudly.

Some danced.

Others smoked.

Groups sat together chatting while colorful lights flashed around the room.

For a moment, the entire place felt strangely unfamiliar.

Almost uncomfortable.

And then it struck him.

He used to enjoy places like this.

Years ago.

Before responsibility changed him.

Before he started seeing life differently.

Imad never drank.

He never smoked.

But many of his friends did.

Eventually, he grew tired of that lifestyle and walked away from it completely.

Most of his friendships disappeared along with it.

Only Taj had chosen the same path.

His eyes continued searching through the crowd.

Then he saw them.

A group of girls sitting with a few guys.

Laughing.

Talking.

Completely absorbed in their own world.

And right there among them...

Was Husna.

She was leaning close to her best friend, staring at something on her phone.

Imad knew the friend immediately.

Nusaiba.

Just then, Nusaiba looked up.

And froze.

"Husna."

"What?"

"Imad is coming."

The smile disappeared from Husna's face instantly.

"What?"

She quickly looked around.

And found him.

Standing there.

Watching her.

Waiting for her to look into his eyes.

The moment she did...

Imad turned around and walked away.

"Husna!"

Nusaiba called after her, but Husna was already rushing out of the club.

By the time she reached the parking lot, Imad was standing beside his car.

"Imad!"

He didn't answer.

"Imad, it's not what you think."

That finally made him look at her.

"It's not what I think?" he repeated. "Are you seriously trying to defend yourself right now?"

"No. No, I'm not."

She shook her head desperately.

"I just came here. I was about to leave. This was my last time. I promise."

Imad laughed bitterly.

"You promised before." He paused.

"You promised, Husna."

His voice cracked slightly.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Imad—"

"No."

He raised his hand.

"This is it."

Her eyes widened.

"I need a break."

"What?"

"We should break up."

For a moment, Husna simply stared.

Then she laughed in disbelief.

"You're breaking up with me over this?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

"Imad, you can't be serious."

"Move aside."

"No."

She stood in front of the car door.

"You're not leaving until you take that back."

Imad closed his eyes briefly.

"Husna, look at the time."

His voice was calmer now.

"It's past eight."

"And you're still here."

"Please."

For the first time, he sounded exhausted.

"I need space."

"I need time to sort out my thoughts."

Husna's expression hardened.

"And you're acting like you're the only one with problems?"

She raised her voice.

"Stop acting innocent, Imad. Stop making me look like the bad person here."

Imad stared at her.

Disappointment.

Exhaustion.

Frustration.

Everything showed in his eyes.

At that moment, he knew if he stayed any longer, he might say something he would regret.

So without another word, he gently moved her aside, entered his car, and drove away.

When he arrived home, he parked inside the garage but made no effort to leave.

Instead, he leaned his head back against the seat and stared at the roof of the car.

His chest felt heavy.

For the first time in years, tears gathered in his eyes.

What was he supposed to do now?

Should he tell his father he no longer wanted the marriage?

How could he?

This wasn't just about him anymore.

It involved two families.

A promise made years ago.

And despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to disappoint his father.

Not anymore.

The rebellious version of Imad had disappeared long ago.

Now he was responsible.

Obedient.

Reliable.

So why did he feel trapped?

Would Husna change after marriage?

Maybe.

But deep down, he knew that wasn't the real issue anymore.

The real issue was far worse.

Every day that passed, he felt himself caring less.

Loving less.

And lately...

He wasn't even sure love remained at all.

---

His attention shifted when movement caught his eye.

Laila.

She was leaving the main house.

Pulling off her apron as she walked toward her small building.

Without realizing it, Imad watched until she disappeared from sight.

Then his eyes returned to the darkness.

A few minutes later, she appeared again.

This time heading toward the small hut.

The place she often sat alone.

And suddenly, an unexpected thought crossed his mind.

Maybe he needed someone to talk to.

Not because Laila was particularly close to him.

In fact, she was probably the last person anyone would approach for emotional comfort.

Yet somehow...

He found himself stepping out of the car.

---

By the time he reached the hut, Laila was already seated on one of the rocking chairs watching an action movie on her phone.

Hearing footsteps, she looked up.

Immediately recognizing him.

"Good evening, sir."

Imad sat down opposite her.

"Well... you don't need to greet me every time."

Laila frowned slightly.

"You need something?"

"No."

He simply sat there.

Quiet.

Fiddling with his fingers.

"Okay..."

The awkwardness settled immediately.

Laila glanced at her phone.

Then at him.

Then back at her phone.

Should she leave?

Should she stay?

She wasn't sure.

Because whatever this was...

It wasn't normal.

Imad had never behaved like this before.

Minutes passed.

She stopped watching her movie completely.

Instead, she silently scrolled through her phone while stealing occasional glances at him.

And every time she looked, he seemed more exhausted than before.

Eventually, she decided it was best to leave.

She stood up.

But before she could take a step—

"Laila."

She paused.

Turning around slowly.

For the first time, she truly looked at him.

And what she saw startled her.

He looked drained.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like someone carrying a weight too heavy to bear.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Then gathered enough courage to ask the question.

"What's wrong, sir?"

Her voice was soft.

Genuine.

"You don't look okay."

And without either of them realizing it...

Those simple words became the beginning of something neither of them was prepared for.

The first crack in the wall between them.

The very tip of an iceberg that was only just beginning to break.EPISODE THIRTEEN

Hidden Behind The Apron

The next day, evening arrived quickly, and Imad decided to visit Husna.

Their families had already begun discussing marriage arrangements, and he felt it was time they had a serious conversation about it.

When he arrived at Husna's house, he found only her sisters at home.

“Good evening,” he greeted.

After exchanging pleasantries, he asked where Husna was.

“She went to a get-together,” one of her sisters replied.

“A get-together?”

Imad frowned.

That was strange.

Not only had Husna failed to mention it when they spoke earlier that afternoon, but she also wasn't answering her phone.

And she had no idea he was planning to visit.

The moment her sisters mentioned a get-together, something inside him immediately disagreed.

What kind of gathering started this late in the evening?

Still, he hoped they were telling the truth.

Because if Husna was at a club again...

Then this time, things would be different.

---

After leaving the house, Imad sat inside his car for several minutes.

He debated what to do.

Should he keep calling her?

Or should he go check the club she frequently visited?

Eventually, for the sake of his own peace of mind, he made a decision.

He would go there.

And hopefully...

He wouldn't find her.

---

The moment he stepped into the club, the loud music hit him.

Men and women laughed loudly.

Some danced.

Others smoked.

Groups sat together chatting while colorful lights flashed around the room.

For a moment, the entire place felt strangely unfamiliar.

Almost uncomfortable.

And then it struck him.

He used to enjoy places like this.

Years ago.

Before responsibility changed him.

Before he started seeing life differently.

Imad never drank.

He never smoked.

But many of his friends did.

Eventually, he grew tired of that lifestyle and walked away from it completely.

Most of his friendships disappeared along with it.

Only Taj had chosen the same path.

---

His eyes continued searching through the crowd.

Then he saw them.

A group of girls sitting with a few guys.

Laughing.

Talking.

Completely absorbed in their own world.

And right there among them...

Was Husna.

She was leaning close to her best friend, staring at something on her phone.

Imad knew the friend immediately.

Nusaiba.

Just then, Nusaiba looked up.

And froze.

"Husna."

"What?"

"Imad is coming."

The smile disappeared from Husna's face instantly.

"What?"

She quickly looked around.

And found him.

Standing there.

Watching her.

Waiting for her to look into his eyes.

The moment she did...

Imad turned around and walked away.

---

"Husna!"

Nusaiba called after her, but Husna was already rushing out of the club.

By the time she reached the parking lot, Imad was standing beside his car.

"Imad!"

He didn't answer.

"Imad, it's not what you think."

That finally made him look at her.

"It's not what I think?" he repeated. "Are you seriously trying to defend yourself right now?"

"No. No, I'm not."

She shook her head desperately.

"I just came here. I was about to leave. This was my last time. I promise."

Imad laughed bitterly.

"You promised before."

Silence.

"You promised, Husna."

His voice cracked slightly.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Imad—"

"No."

He raised his hand.

"This is it."

Her eyes widened.

"I need a break."

"What?"

"We should break up."

For a moment, Husna simply stared.

Then she laughed in disbelief.

"You're breaking up with me over this?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

"Imad, you can't be serious."

"Move aside."

"No."

She stood in front of the car door.

"You're not leaving until you take that back."

Imad closed his eyes briefly.

"Husna, look at the time."

His voice was calmer now.

"It's past eight."

"And you're still here."

"Please."

For the first time, he sounded exhausted.

"I need space."

"I need time to sort out my thoughts."

Husna's expression hardened.

"And you're acting like you're the only one with problems?"

She raised her voice.

"Stop acting innocent, Imad. Stop making me look like the bad person here."

Imad stared at her.

Disappointment.

Exhaustion.

Frustration.

Everything showed in his eyes.

At that moment, he knew if he stayed any longer, he might say something he would regret.

So without another word, he gently moved her aside, entered his car, and drove away.

When he arrived home, he parked inside the garage but made no effort to leave.

Instead, he leaned his head back against the seat and stared at the roof of the car.

His chest felt heavy.

For the first time in years, tears gathered in his eyes.

What was he supposed to do now?

Should he tell his father he no longer wanted the marriage?

How could he?

This wasn't just about him anymore.

It involved two families.

A promise made years ago.

And despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to disappoint his father.

Not anymore.

The rebellious version of Imad had disappeared long ago.

Now he was responsible.

Obedient.

Reliable.

So why did he feel trapped?

Would Husna change after marriage?

Maybe.

But deep down, he knew that wasn't the real issue anymore.

The real issue was far worse.

Every day that passed, he felt himself caring less.

Loving less.

And lately...

He wasn't even sure love remained at all.

His attention shifted when movement caught his eye.

Laila.

She was leaving the main house.

Pulling off her apron as she walked toward her small building.

Without realizing it, Imad watched until she disappeared from sight.

Then his eyes returned to the darkness.

A few minutes later, she appeared again.

This time heading toward the small hut.

The place she often sat alone.

And suddenly, an unexpected thought crossed his mind.

Maybe he needed someone to talk to.

Not because Laila was particularly close to him.

In fact, she was probably the last person anyone would approach for emotional comfort.

Yet somehow...

He found himself stepping out of the car.

---

By the time he reached the hut, Laila was already seated on one of the rocking chairs watching an action movie on her phone.

Hearing footsteps, she looked up.

Immediately recognizing him.

"Good evening, sir."

Imad sat down opposite her.

"Well... you don't need to greet me every time."

Laila smiled slightly.

"You need something?"

"No."

He simply sat there.

Quiet.

Fiddling with his fingers.

"Okay..."

The awkwardness settled immediately.

Laila glanced at her phone.

Then at him.

Then back at her phone.

Should she leave?

Should she stay?

She wasn't sure.

Because whatever this was...

It wasn't normal.

Imad had never behaved like this before.

Minutes passed.

She stopped watching her movie completely.

Instead, she silently scrolled through her phone while stealing occasional glances at him.

And every time she looked, he seemed more exhausted than before.

Eventually, she decided it was best to leave.

She stood up.

But before she could take a step..

"Laila."

She paused.

Turning around slowly.

For the first time, she truly looked at him.

And what she saw startled her.

He looked drained.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like someone carrying a weight too heavy to bear.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Then gathered enough courage to ask the question.

"What's wrong, sir?"

Her voice was soft.

Genuine.

"You don't look okay."

And without either of them realizing it...

Those simple words became the beginning of something neither of them was prepared for.

The first crack in the wall between them.

The very tip of an iceberg that was only just beginning to break.

Watch Out For Episode 14

Like, Comment and Follow To Be On Track!

© 2026 Aliyu Fatima. All Rights Reserved.
“Hidden Behind the Apron” is an original story written by Aliyu Fatima.
Do not repost, copy, or reproduce without permission.
Pen Name: Alfatima
Image: AI
Fire in words stories

EPISODE TWELVE
Hidden Behind The Apron

It had already been announced that Alhaji would be returning from England on Friday.

And immediately, everyone in the house was warned to be more cautious, including Laila.

According to Mrs Aaliyah, Alhaji disliked laziness and hated seeing people slack around.

But to Laila, whether Alhaji was around or not made little difference.

She always did her work properly anyway.

Friday arrived quickly.

After breakfast, Laila went outside to sweep the compound.

She had barely started when she suddenly heard her name.

“Laila!”

It was Mrs Aaliyah, and judging from her tone, she seemed slightly rushed.

“Yes, Madam?”

“Leave the sweeping and go clean the library.”

Library?

Laila paused slightly.

There was a library in the house?

Mrs Aaliyah immediately noticed the confused expression on her face.

“Of course you wouldn’t know,” she said. “I never mentioned it before. Drop that and follow me.”

Laila quietly followed her through the hallway until they stopped before a large door she had always noticed but never questioned.

Of course, she would never dare ask wealthy people what every door in their mansion led to.

Mrs Aaliyah opened it.

And instantly, Laila understood.

The library was massive.

Large bookshelves stretched across the walls, filled with books of different sizes and colors. At the center stood a large office table surrounded by neatly arranged chairs.

It felt more like a private study than an ordinary library.

For a moment, Laila silently walked around the room, curiously running her fingers across a few books before carefully returning them to their places.

Then she finally began cleaning.

Imad returned home earlier than usual that day.

He was supposed to pick his father up from the airport and had only come home to get his mother first.

Whenever Alhaji returned from abroad, it was always Imad who personally picked him up instead of sending the driver.

As he walked through the hallway, his attention immediately fell on the library door.

Open?

That alone surprised him.

Especially today of all days.

Even as his children, Alhaji rarely allowed anyone inside the library freely, making the place feel almost personal to him.

Curious, Imad stepped inside.

He looked around briefly before finally spotting Laila standing on a ladder while dusting the upper shelves.

The moment she heard footsteps behind her, she froze and turned sharply.

Her heart nearly skipped.

For one terrifying second, she had genuinely thought someone, or something, was standing behind her.

Imad immediately noticed the startled expression on her face and chuckled lightly.

“Of course it’s you,” he said. “Sorry… I startled you again.”

Then he glanced around.

“I wondered who could be in father's library. I didn't think it would be you.”

Laila slowly climbed down the ladder.

“Well, if you keep appearing out of nowhere like this,” she muttered, “I might end up having a heart attack one day.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Imad burst into laughter.

Laila blinked in confusion.

Was that supposed to be funny?

Because she definitely hadn’t intended it as a joke.

Still, not wanting him to feel awkward laughing alone, she smiled slightly too.

“Well,” Imad said between his laughter, “you don’t look like someone who could easily have one.”

This time, Laila laughed softly.

And honestly…

That was the very first time Imad had ever truly heard her laugh.

He had seen her smile before.

But never laugh.

And strangely enough, he thought she looked even prettier laughing than smiling.

But of course, he kept that thought entirely to himself.

“Anyway,” he continued, glancing at the ladder, “be careful up there. It’s dangerous.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Imad nodded before walking out.

But the moment he stepped into the hallway, he lightly hit his own forehead in frustration.

What exactly was wrong with him lately?

By past five, Alhaji had finally arrived.

From the upstairs window, Laila watched as the security guards hurried to greet the incoming car before the gates opened fully.

The car drove inside.

Laila immediately came downstairs and stood quietly near the entrance.

She figured greeting him while serving would feel awkward.

The moment Alhaji entered the house, she respectfully lowered her head slightly.

“Good evening, sir.”

Alhaji stopped walking.

His sharp eyes rested on her briefly.

“And who are you?”

Before anyone could answer, his eyes landed on the apron she wore.

“You must be the new help.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

That single word was all he said before walking away.

Mrs Aaliyah and Imad followed after him shortly.

About thirty minutes later, dinner was served.

After everyone finished eating, Laila cleared the plates before finally retiring briefly to her room.

Later, she returned once again to pick up the remaining dishes before finally ending her duties for the night.

The next morning, Laila woke up early to prepare breakfast.

Mrs Aaliyah had already instructed her the previous day on what to cook.

By eight o’clock, the family had gathered at the dining table.

Whenever Alhaji was around, everyone ate together.

After serving them, Laila proceeded upstairs to continue cleaning.

She remained mostly uninterested in their conversation while scrubbing nearby.

Until Alhaji suddenly spoke.

“Well,” he said calmly, “I mentioned before leaving that we would discuss your marriage arrangements with Husna once I returned.”

Laila’s hand slowed against the mop.

“And while I was in England, Husna’s father called. He said we should proceed with the arrangements.”

Silence followed briefly before he continued..

“So we’ll pay them a visit soon and fix the wedding date.”

The mop slipped from Laila’s hand instantly.

Downstairs, Imad paused midway while spreading butter across his bread.

He slowly looked up at his father.

Surprisingly…

There was no excitement on his face.

Maybe there would have been months ago.

But now?

Now he felt strangely unsettled.

Alhaji immediately noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

Imad forced a faint smile quickly.

“Nothing,” he replied. “I’m glad.”

But internally, his thoughts were far from glad.

At first, marrying Husna had never seemed like a problem.

Their families had always been close, and both fathers had long planned to strengthen that relationship through marriage.

And honestly, Imad had once wanted it too.

But lately…

Something felt wrong.

Yes, he still cared about Husna.

Maybe even loved her.

But he no longer felt completely drawn toward the future they were planning together.

And no matter how much he tried ignoring it, something deep inside him kept whispering that this marriage might be a mistake.

Still…

He wanted Husna.

Or at least, he kept telling himself he did.

Upstairs, however

Laila felt like her heart had shattered completely.

A crushing pain spread through her chest so heavily that she had to bite down against it just to remain standing.

A silent tear escaped her eye.

Yet somehow, she still forced herself to continue cleaning.

By the time she came downstairs, she found Imad collecting the plates alone while Mrs Aaliyah and Alhaji had already returned to their rooms.

“Give them to me,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to.”

Imad handed the plates over without arguing.

But now that he looked at her properly…

Something was wrong.

She looked like someone who had barely survived drowning.

What happened?

He wanted to ask.

But despite all the time Laila had spent with them, they still hadn’t reached the point where he could casually question her emotions.

So instead, he remained silent and let her leave.

Yet surprisingly, throughout the entire day, Laila’s mood never improved.

Even Mrs Aaliyah eventually asked if she was feeling sick.

That evening, once her duties ended, Laila quietly returned to her room.

And for the first time in a very long while…

She cried until her eyes hurt.

Because at that moment, she truly felt broken.

And somewhere deep inside her aching chest, a painful thought slowly formed.
Maybe she had never been worth loving after all.

Watch Out For Episode 13
Like, Comment and Follow To Be On Track!

© 2026 Aliyu Fatima. All Rights Reserved.
“Hidden Behind the Apron” is an original story written by Aliyu Fatima.
Do not repost, copy, or reproduce without permission.
Pen Name: Alfatima
Image: AI
Fire in words stories