The Choice between hearts (part one)
1415 Words
Chapter Six: The Choice Between Hearts (Part One)
The message stayed on Idris’s phone long after the screen had gone dark.
He sat by his bedroom window, watching the last streaks of sunlight disappear behind the rooftops. The familiar sounds of the neighborhood drifted in through the open window—children chasing one another down the street, a woman calling her son home for dinner, and the distant call to prayer echoing peacefully across the evening sky.
Usually, those sounds brought him comfort.
Tonight, they only reminded him of everything he was about to leave behind.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Idris,” his mother called gently. “Your father is waiting.”
He slipped his phone into his pocket and took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door.
Every step toward the living room felt heavier than the last.
His father was seated on the sofa with a folder resting on his lap. His mother sat quietly beside him, her expression unreadable.
“Sit down,” his father said.
Idris obeyed.
His father opened the folder and placed several papers on the coffee table.
“I’ve completed your admission process.”
Idris stared at the documents.
The name of a university in Kaduna was printed clearly across the top.
“Your classes begin next month.”
His throat tightened.
“So… it’s final?”
His father nodded once.
“It is.”
Silence settled over the room.
His mother glanced at Idris with sympathetic eyes but remained quiet, allowing father and son to speak.
“I know this is difficult,” his father continued, “but opportunities like this don’t come twice.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
Idris looked down at his hands.
“I do.”
His father leaned forward.
“Then tell me what is troubling you.”
Idris hesitated.
He had rehearsed this conversation a hundred times in his head, yet now that it was happening, the words refused to come.
“I’ve built a life here.”
“You’ll build another one.”
“I have people who matter to me.”
“You’ll meet new people.”
“It’s not that simple.”
His father’s expression softened.
“It never is.”
For the first time that evening, Idris looked directly into his father’s eyes.
“What if I don’t want to leave?”
The question hung in the air.
His father sighed deeply.
“When I was your age, I left my parents, my friends, and everything I knew.”
“Were you happy?”
“No.”
The answer surprised Idris.
“I was frightened,” his father admitted. “But that decision gave me the life I have today.”
He looked around the modest living room.
“It allowed me to give you opportunities I never had.”
Idris remained silent.
“I know you’re thinking about someone.”
His heart skipped.
“I…”
“You don’t have to explain.”
His father smiled sadly.
“First love often feels like the whole world.”
Idris’s cheeks warmed.
“It isn’t like that.”
“No?”
He shook his head.
“It’s… different.”
His father chuckled quietly.
“That’s exactly what I told my own father.”
Even Idris couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
For a brief moment, the tension eased.
“I respect your feelings,” his father said, “but I won’t let them decide your future.”
Idris nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
Whether he accepted it was another matter entirely.
⸻
The next morning, the sky was gray with heavy clouds.
Amina stood outside the school gate, absentmindedly smoothing the sleeves of her uniform while waiting for Idris.
When she saw him approaching, she knew immediately.
He didn’t need to say anything.
His face already had.
“It happened.”
He nodded.
“My father confirmed everything.”
She swallowed.
“When?”
“I leave in two weeks.”
Two weeks.
She had expected a month.
Maybe longer.
Not two weeks.
Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to smile.
“Then we’ll make every day count.”
He looked at her, surprised.
“You’re not angry?”
“I wish I had more time to be.”
A small laugh escaped him.
“I don’t know how you always find something hopeful to say.”
“I don’t.”
She shrugged lightly.
“I just don’t want our last memories together to be sad ones.”
For a moment, Idris simply looked at her.
He wondered how someone could carry so much kindness so naturally.
⸻
Classes passed slowly.
Neither of them paid much attention to the lessons.
Instead, they found themselves stealing glances at one another whenever the teachers weren’t looking.
During lunch break, they sat beneath the old mango tree that had quietly become their favorite place.
“I brought something,” Idris said.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small paper bag.
Amina raised an eyebrow.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Inside were two meat pies from the small bakery outside the school.
She laughed.
“You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?”
“I knew you’d figure it out.”
“You always skip breakfast when you’re stressed.”
“You notice everything.”
“I notice you.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Both of them fell silent.
Amina looked away, embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay.”
Idris smiled softly.
“I’m glad someone notices.”
She finally looked back at him.
“I’ll always notice.”
For a brief second, the world around them disappeared.
The chatter of students.
The ringing of the school bell.
Even the breeze seemed to pause.
Until someone loudly called Idris’s name from across the courtyard.
The moment vanished.
⸻
Later that afternoon, Amina walked home alone.
Her mind replayed every conversation she and Idris had shared over the past few months.
She remembered the first time they met.
The awkward greetings.
The silly arguments.
The jokes that only the two of them understood.
She hadn’t realized those ordinary moments were becoming memories.
At home, her mother noticed the change immediately.
“You’ve been quiet these past few days.”
“I’m just tired.”
Her mother smiled knowingly.
“Tired hearts are harder to hide than tired eyes.”
Amina looked up in surprise.
“You can tell?”
“A mother usually can.”
She hesitated before sitting beside her.
“Mama…”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever been afraid of losing someone important?”
Her mother became quiet.
“Many times.”
“What did you do?”
“I thanked Allah for the time I had with them.”
Amina frowned.
“That’s all?”
“What else could I do?”
She gently held Amina’s hand.
“We don’t own people, my daughter.”
“We’re only entrusted with them for a little while.”
The words settled deep inside Amina’s heart.
She didn’t like them.
Because they were true.
⸻
That evening, Idris couldn’t sleep.
He found himself scrolling through old photographs on his phone.
Pictures from school events.
Group selfies.
Class celebrations.
Hidden among them was a photo Amina had taken without him noticing.
He was laughing at something Bashir had said.
She had captured a version of him that even he rarely saw.
Happy.
Without thinking, he smiled.
Then another message appeared on his phone.
This one wasn’t from his father.
It was from an unknown number.
If you really care about Amina, stay away from her before it’s too late.
Idris sat upright.
His heartbeat quickened.
He read the message again.
No name.
No explanation.
Just those chilling words.
He immediately called the number.
The phone rang once.
Then switched off.
He stared at the screen, unease settling in his chest.
Who had sent it?
And more importantly…
How did they know about Amina?
Outside, thunder rolled across the darkening sky.
The first drops of rain began to fall against his bedroom window.
Idris had no idea that the mysterious message was only the beginning.
Someone knew far more about him and Amina than they ever imagined.
And before the week was over, that secret would come looking for them.
The story continues seamlessly in Part Two, where the mystery behind the anonymous message begins to unfold and the emotional stakes rise dramatically.
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