Beyond "I Do"

1- Shattered Grace

A'isha's POV

Muhammad and I had been married for a month, and while our relationship was still a bit strained, things were slowly improving. The awkwardness and coldness that had defined our first week of marriage had begun to thaw. We managed to have small talk, but nothing more than that. Sometimes it felt like I was living with a college roommate rather than my life partner. But it was definitely better than it had been in the beginning.

Today was Friday, and we were going to visit his family for their monthly dinner. It was cute to see their family traditions; they met up on the last Friday of every month to eat or hang out together. Unfortunately for me, Farida wouldn't be there as she had gone back to Kano with her husband. I was a little disappointed because I enjoyed her company and her lively stories.

However, I was glad I had the company of little Layla, Muhammad's baby stepsister, who had been FaceTiming me every once in a while to tell me about her day. We were actually besties now, despite the age difference. Her infectious giggles and sweet innocence were a bright spot in my otherwise tense new life.

While Muhammad was at work, I decided to keep myself busy preparing for the evening. I didn't want to show up empty-handed, so I headed out to buy ingredients to make a chocolate and vanilla cake for dessert. I also stopped at the gift shop to buy a gift for Bilal and Layla.

At the store, I grabbed a couple of children's Islamic books and a teddy bear for Layla. For Bilal, I bought a video game and a toy drone. Satisfied with my purchases, I headed back home to start baking my cake.

Once home, I put on some music and got straight to work in the kitchen. Sam was there and I asked him to stay and help me. Having him around made the kitchen feel less lonely, and his chatter kept my mind off everything.

We continued baking, and by the time the cake was in the oven, the kitchen was filled with the rich, warm aroma of chocolate and vanilla. Sam cleaned up, while I began piping my cake with some frosting. I sprinkled some chocolate shavings over the cake, and put it in a nice cake stand.
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I went upstairs and began to prepare myself for the evening ahead. Shedding my boubou, I slipped into the comfort of my silk robe, the smooth fabric a welcome contrast to the day's tensions. As I started to gel down my messy braids, I couldn't help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in my stomach. Tonight was another opportunity to bridge the gap between Muhammad and me, but the weight of our strained relationship hung heavy in the air.

Turning my attention to my makeup, I focused on the familiar routine, seeking solace in the mundane tasks. As I applied the finishing touches to my face, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught my attention. A soft knock on my door followed, and I called out, "Come in."

"Assalamu alaykum," Muhammad greeted as he stepped into the room.

"Wa alaykum assalam, welcome back," I replied, offering him a small smile.

"Thank you. Did you have a good day?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, I made a cake for us to take with and I bought gifts for Bilal and Layla," I replied, trying to inject some lightness into the conversation.

"Gifts? You'll spoil them too much," Muhammad teased lightly.

"Good! I need to embody my role as a rich auntie very well while I'm still childless," I joked, but the room suddenly felt stifled with tension. Muhammad cleared his throat awkwardly, and I inwardly cringed at my attempt at humor. Was that a bad joke? Ugh!

"I'll just go and quickly change so we can go, I'll be done in thirty minutes," Muhammad said, breaking the awkward silence.

"O-okay," I replied, feeling the weight of the moment as he shut the door behind him.