Accepting You

Chapter Twelve

"Wake up, sleeping beauty." Dawood used his toes to nudge Yusuf in his side.

Yusuf stretched the sleep out of his body before propping himself up with his elbows.

"I wasn't sleeping," Yusuf grumbled.

"You were snoring," Dawood deadpanned.

Yusuf looked at his watch. "My eyes were resting for exactly thirteen minutes. It takes twenty minutes on average for someone to fall asleep," he said.

"Plus. I would never sleep and risk missing the food," Yusuf grinned as he nodded towards the pizza box in Dawood's hands.

"I've noticed a pattern with you," Dawood hummed as he placed the pizza box on the floor. "You only attend the Quran circles when we order food."

"Ha!" Yusuf snickered as he flipped open the box. "Be serious. I come every weekend, and on the weekdays, I'm free."

"Yes, and somehow, those are always the days when Musa orders food."

"What can I say? Allahuma Barik," Yusuf smirked as he used a plastic knife to separate a slice for himself. "Allah's timing is the best timing."

"Yeah, yeah." Dawood waved away Yusuf's gloats.

"How's your job search going?" Yusuf asked before biting into his slice.

"It's not," Dawood answered. "Honestly, I've not looked for one since I got let go. I want to enjoy the peace and freedom. I've decided to enjoy it until my savings get low."

"That sounds nice," Yusuf said.

"It would be as nice as it sounds if my mum wasn't on my ass." Dawood kicked one of his legs over the other. "She wants me out of the house, but only if I'm married. Not having a salary is stopping that, according to her."

"I don't think that's the only thing stopping you," Yusuf teased.

Dawood rolled his eyes. "What about you? Your mum still bringing rishta's over to yours?"

It was Yusuf's turn to roll his eyes.

Ever since he had sketched his signature on the dotted line of his training contract, his mother and aunt had been acting like they were in the match-making business. His aunt was the major stakeholder, and Yusuf had the honour of being their only client.

For the last two years, they had been shoving biodata's, profiles and women in Yusuf's face.

The last time Yusuf visited home, his aunt paraded rishtas in front of him like they were suspects in a lineup.

Because of that, he had decided to stop telling his family when he would visit.

"They're focused on one rishta now," Yusuf said with a grimace. "A girl I went to school with."

"Did you like her?" Dawood asked.

"Nope. Didn't fancy her then, and I do not fancy her now," Yusuf replied.

It didn't matter how often Sarah 'coincidentally' showed up at his aunt's house when he was visiting; Yusuf would not engage with her.

Especially now that a future with Asiya was no longer a dream and Yusuf had a chance to be with her outside the walls of his imagination.

Puddles of yellow oil stained Yusuf's fingertips as he moved the piece into his mouth and chewed.

It was Saturday afternoon. It had been three days since he gave Asiya his number, and he hadn't received any messages or missed calls from unknown numbers.