Accepting You

Chapter Eighteen

Yusuf had always planned to tell his mum and introduce her to Asiya.

That had never been a question. It was when that Yusuf had been battling with.

He knew he wanted to tell his mum in private and in person.

Yusuf hadn't decided on the when. But after leaving Asiya's family home, Yusuf no longer had the luxury of making that decision.

He had to tell his mum today. Asiya's parents had made it clear that Yusuf's and Asiya's relationship was heading towards a dead end if they didn't meet his mother soon.

He had planned on visiting his family and staying the night at home after he had finished from Asiya's. 

But Yusuf hadn't planned to discuss marriage with his mum, so by the time he arrived at his aunt's house, his nerves were worn, and his mind was exhausted from running through all the plays the night could go through.

"Yusuf! I couldn't see you properly through the keyhole! You scared me," his mum said as she opened the door.

"Of course he would, when he always surprises us with his visits," aunt Hina sniffed from behind her as she walked past.

"Well, it's a good surprise," his mum said before pulling him through the door.

"I would hope so. I'm your only child," Yusuf smiled.

"Yes. That won't stop growing," his mum grinned.

Yusuf curled his spine to hug her. His mum squeezed him tightly before letting him go. "We were just about to eat. Come and join us."

"Who is us tonight?" Yusuf asked as he shook off his shoes.

"Just your aunts and cousins. Just family. It's a girl's night tonight."

"Sorry. I guess I've spoilt that," Yusuf said before chewing on what skin was left on his lower lip.

"Yusuf," his mum frowned, "You could never spoil anything. Besides, they'll be so happy to see you!"

Yusuf scratched the back of his neck. "I'd love to see them too, but I was just planning on picking you up and going home."

"Yusuf! Where are your manners?" his mum snapped and lightly stomped her foot. "You've been travelling all day; your family is here, and there's food. You clearly need to eat 'cause you're not thinking straight."

His mum dragged him down the hallway and into the living room. "Yusuf's home!" she hollered before she pushed Yusuf into the mosh pit of his family.

Like birds swarming over bread, Yusuf's aunts clustered around him. They pecked kisses onto his cheeks, pinched and pulled him to plates of food on the floor.

"Hi Yusuf," his cousin Rahimah waved lazily in his direction without removing her eyes from her phone.

His other cousins didn't even bother to greet him.

"Hi," Yusuf responded politely as he sat down and crossed his legs.

"Yusuf. Eat!" his mum shoved a made plate in front of him. "I know some of this stuff is your favourite."

Yusuf agreed, but his stomach turned, rioting at the thought of pushing more food into it, and bile sloshed up his throat.

Asiya's mum had stuffed him with snacks, swallow, soups, and stews when he confessed to being unable to identify most of the Nigerian dishes on the table.

He couldn't eat anything more, not without something coming up first.

"I'm okay, mum. Thanks. I had a heavy lunch. I'll just take my plate home," Yusuf said.