Suleiman's Story World

 The Letter I Was Never Meant to Read , Part 3 (Final) The wedding was beautiful — at least, that’s what everyone said. I didn’t see beauty. I saw Hauwa in white, smiling for photographs, her eyes carefully avoiding mine. The ceremony ended, and I tried to disappear into the crowd, but fate had other plans. As I turned to leave, a small folded paper was pressed into my hand. I looked around — she was gone. It wasn’t the same old letter. This was new, written in a hurry. "If you’re reading this, I just want you to know… I waited for you until the last moment." The words blurred as my eyes filled. She continued: "I chose him because you didn’t choose me. But in another life, maybe it would have been us." At the bottom, there was no “H.” — just her full name, written with a finality that felt like goodbye. That night, I burned the new letter. Not because I wanted to forget, but because I knew I never could. Some love stories aren’t meant to have endings — only echoes. ...

The Letter I Was Never Meant to Read , Part 2 Hauwa didn’t speak at first. She just stared at the letter in my hand, her lips trembling as if words were trapped inside. “Where did you find it?” she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “In the cabinet,” I said. “You wrote this?” She hesitated. Then she nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek. The night air felt colder. “Why?” I asked. “Because…” She paused, glancing toward the main house where my brother’s laughter spilled into the night. “…because I couldn’t marry him without telling you the truth.” Her words cut deep. The truth? That she loved me? Or that she had been playing both sides all along? “I thought you moved on,” she said, her voice shaking. “You didn’t wait for me.” “I waited,” I said. “But you were gone.” Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world disappeared. We were back under the mango tree, laughing like children, dreaming of a future that would never come. “Tomorrow is my wedding,” she whispered. “If you...

The Letter I Was Never Meant to Read part 1 It was a rainy afternoon, and I wasn’t looking for trouble. I was simply searching for my missing umbrella in the living room cabinet when I found it — a brown envelope with my name written in shaky handwriting. The paper was old, the ink slightly faded, and it smelled faintly of perfume. I should have left it there. But I didn’t. The first line made my hands tremble: "By the time you read this, I will be gone." There was no full name — just an initial: “H.” My heart skipped a beat. I thought of Hauwa — my childhood friend, my secret love… and the woman my brother was about to marry. The letter spoke of a love hidden for years, of stolen moments under the mango tree behind the old mosque, of whispered promises made under the quiet Zaria moon. Then it revealed the truth that shattered me completely: "They chose him, but it was always you." My brother walked into the room just as I was reading those words. He was smiling, ho...