Accepting You

Chapter Seventeen

"When are you getting married?" Fatimah demanded as she stomped towards Asiya's desk.

Asiya put her pen down and rolled her eyes, but a smile slipped across her face. She currently associated only one person with the word married and all its variations, definitions, and tenses.

"It's not even been a month since we started getting to know each other," Asiya said.

"And?" Fatimah placed a hand on her hip. "You should see your smile. It's clear evidence that love doesn't work on a timeline."

Asiya snorted and pushed her chair back. "It's way too soon. Our families haven't even met yet," she reasoned.

"So you're waiting for your parents' permission before you allow yourself to fall in love with Yusuf?" Fatimah clicked her tongue. "What a dutiful daughter you are."

Asiya feigned an annoyed sigh and lightly pushed Fatimah towards the door. "Remind me again why I asked you to get lunch with me?"

"Because you love me. But not as much as you seem to love Yusuf," Fatimah sang as they left Asiya's office.

"Again. I don't love him," Asiya said as she pressed the button to call the lift.

"Now I'm concerned," Fatimah frowned. "You've seen the man. You've gone on dates with him, and you're always talking to him."

"Yes, to get to know him," Asiya argued lightly.

"It's been ages since I attended a big, fat Nigerian wedding, Asiya. Stop being selfish and give me a reason to dress up. How much more do you need to know about him?"

Asiya knew Fatimah was only teasing her, but her stomach swirled like a pile of leaves on a windy day. "A lot," she answered truthfully.

Asiya knew all of Yusuf's CV-like facts. She knew his likes, dislikes, and interests and could write down his traits. 

Each time they spoke, Asiya learned a little more about Yusuf, allowing her to slowly piece together a clearer picture of him like a puzzle.

His actions towards her were building a foundation for those feelings. However, Asiya had an itch Yusuf was failing to scratch.

"We haven't spoken to his family. We've not heard anything from them since Yusuf and I started speaking. Not a phone call, text or letter. They've said nothing. Nada. Nothing at all," Asiya said.

"He's meeting your family this weekend, isn't he?" Fatimah asked.

"Exactly! He's meeting mine. I don't think he's bringing his." Asiya tapped her toes against the floor. "Don't you think it's weird?"

"Not really," Fatimah answered. You guys don't live at home. You've been speaking for a few weeks, but he's only just meeting your dad and family. He needs proper permission—in-person permission—before he takes things further."

"Ibrahim brought his parents with him when he first met my family," Asiya said.

Fatimah wrinkled her nose and tutted. "Ibrahim was different. The arrangement was different. It's the first meeting. Yusuf probably knows the focus will be on him and all that's happened between you guys so far."

Asiya watched the numbers on the lift screen change as the lift climbed towards them. "Stop defending him," she mumbled.

"Can't help it. I like the guy for you," Fatimah winked.

"I like the guy for me, too," Asiya admitted. "I just have questions."

Like if Yusuf's family would like her and accept her, who had his family envisioned as a wife for him? Would Asiya ever compare? Would Yusuf's family care that she was black?