Accepting You

Chapter Thirty One

"You should've seen Kulthum's face when I said we were flying business class. She said I should've asked for a larger amount for my mahr."

"Sounds like her," Yusuf chuckled.

"I've always wondered what makes the seats at the front of the plane more expensive than the ones at the back, and I'd be lying if I said I've never wanted to experience one flight," Asiya held up a finger to her lips, "just one flight where my back is facing the curtains instead of my face."

Yusuf swung their hand-held hands as they zoned in on a free table. "Work has its perks."

"Well, I'm grateful that you're using them on us. JazakAllah Khair," Asiya said.

She placed her bag on the table and stayed standing. "What would you like to eat?"

Yusuf touched Asiya's shoulder and gently pushed her into a seat. "I will make you a plate, dear wife. What do you want to eat?"

Asiya smoothed her hands over her dress even though it had no wrinkles. "I don't think I should. People said brides didn't get to eat anything at their events, but I ate a lot at every single one. My stomach feels like a marshmallow."

Yusuf's eyes moved down Asiya's torso, and Asiya's hugged her stomach protectively. "Yusuf!" she hissed.

"I love marshmallows. They're sweet," Yusuf said.

"And puffy and soft," Asiya said.

"Mmm mmm," Yusuf hummed.

Asiya frowned and placed her bag on her lap, hiding away.

Yusuf's smile wilted. "Asiya," he said softly.

"I'll just have fruit, please. Lots and lots of it," Asiya mumbled.

Yusuf nodded and joined the queue.

He returned to their table a few minutes later with a heavy tray.

Yusuf hadn't meant to upset Asiya or make her feel violated. He had been trying to tell her that she was more than fine the way she was.

Asiya picked up her plate. There was a lot of fruit like she had asked for, but Yusuf had also piled mini pastries, vegetarian sausages, and hashbrowns onto it to reinforce his point.

Yusuf's face pulled to the side as he sipped his coffee.

"I'm not a fan of coffee either," Asiya commented.

"I have a love-hate relationship with it. I hate the taste but love the effects," Yusuf said before silently hacking like a cat.

"How much of an effect do you want it to have?" Asiya asked. "There are more cups of coffee on this table than plates of food."

"I'm just trying to wake up," Yusuf fibbed, adding a short fake yawn.

He was already awake. His body was buzzing with adrenaline like an overloaded extension box. He started drinking coffee at Fajr and hadn't stopped since because he wanted to be hyperaware on their flight.

"You haven't flown a lot, have you?" Asiya asked.

Yusuf shook his head.

Flying was foreign to him. He had only been on a plane three times his entire life, and all those journeys happened when his memory was too small to contain many details. "The last time I went on a plane, I was eight. It was with aunt Zulaihat."

"Where did you guys go?"

Yusuf gripped his mug. "Nigeria. For my dad's janazah."

"I'm sorry," Asiya said.