The Distance Between Us
505 Words
The calm after the storm was not immediate.
Though the world applauded Zuwena and Ayaan’s courage, though Nassor Lab grew in valuation and vision, there lingered a new silence between the two. The kind of silence that follows a victory hard-won, when the noise settles and hearts begin to ask quieter questions.
Zuwena sat alone one afternoon in the new Dar es Salaam office a minimalist, sun-drenched space with large glass panels. She stared at the outline of the solar project expansion for rural Kigoma, but her mind wandered to the moments when Ayaan had grown distant.
He still showed up, still called, still looked at her like she was the center of his orbit but something inside him seemed further away. He had left behind his empire, his legacy, his name and she worried he hadn't yet found what he wanted in its place.
Meanwhile, Ayaan wandered the coast. He had taken to long walks — often disappearing from meetings, avoiding media, even brushing off potential partnerships. Zuwena wasn’t the only one who noticed. His co-founder at their side project, EcoByte, finally confronted him.
“You’re unmoored, man,” she said. “You jumped out of the ship, but you haven’t started swimming.”
“I’m not lost,” he said. “Just… quiet.”
“You built the right thing. With the right person. Don’t wait for peace to come from outside.”
Back at the office, Zuwena received an unexpected visitor: Mariam Said.
The older woman entered with poise, dressed in a soft lavender dress and a headscarf that suggested humility, not power. She sat without invitation.
“I did not come to apologize,” Mariam began. “But I came to understand what he sees in you.”
Zuwena raised an eyebrow. “You traveled here to do that?”
“Yes. And to tell you the board stripped me of majority control last week. Your press conference did more than go viral. It rewrote public loyalty.”
Zuwena said nothing. Just watched.
Mariam’s lips trembled for a moment. “I raised him to conquer. I never imagined he’d choose… integrity.”
Zuwena finally spoke. “You raised a king. He just refused to sit on your throne.”
Later that night, Ayaan came home early. Zuwena was in the kitchen, barefoot, humming an old taarab melody.
He stood there for a moment, watching her. Then stepped forward.
“Do you love me more now that I have nothing?”
She turned. “You never had nothing. You always had me.”
He nodded. “I’ve been afraid. Not of losing power but of needing someone more than I ever planned to.”
Zuwena touched his cheek. “Let’s be afraid together. Let’s build scared. Let’s love uncertainly, but with everything we’ve got.”
He pulled her close. “Then marry me.”
Her breath caught.
She whispered, “Ask me when I’m wearing shoes.”
He smiled. “No. Now.”
She laughed, kissed him, and said, “Yes.”
- Writer
