Only for You

3: Beneath the Surface

Fatima descended the staircase, the warm glow of the evening sun filtering through the windows, casting a soft golden light on her outfit. She was dressed in a flowing dark brown summer dress, layered in delicate tiers that added a touch of elegance to the loose, airy fabric. The halter neckline highlighted her graceful shoulders, while the dress flowed down to just above her knees. She paired it with transparent high-heeled sandals that elongated her legs, adding a modern twist to the vintage-inspired dress. A beige YSL clutch was tucked under her arm, and her wrists sparkled with a Cartier trinity ring and a gold watch. She looked every bit the stylish, yet understated woman she always aimed to be.

As she walked into the kitchen, the rich aroma of various dishes filled the air. The kitchen itself was a vision of sophistication—sleek, minimalist, with light gray cabinets and marble countertops. The centerpiece of the room was the island, topped with a smooth marble surface that gleamed under the soft lighting. On the counter, every dish her mother had prepared was neatly arranged, a feast that spoke of hours spent cooking with care and love.

"Wow, mama," Fatima said, her voice filled with genuine admiration as she took in the spread.

Fiona turned around, a proud smile on her face as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Oliver's going to arrive any minute now. Can you set the table for me? And don't you look cute," she added, her eyes lighting up as she took in her daughter's outfit.

"Thank you— but you're not even ready," Fatima pointed out, eyeing her mother's apron-clad figure with a smirk.

"I'll be quick. I'm going to go shower and get ready. We're having dinner on the patio," Fiona replied, already untying her apron as there was a knock at the door. She paused, then added, "Oh, and Oliver is bringing his son."

Fatima's eyebrows shot up. "Oh my God, y'all are really serious," she teased.

Fiona waved her off with a playful scold, "Go get the door!" before heading out to freshen up.

Shaking her head with a small laugh, Fatima walked out to the front door. As she opened it, her expression brightened when she saw Anthony standing there with a bouquet of sunny yellow orchids in hand.

"How's the most beautiful fiancée ever?" he greeted her, his voice warm and affectionate.

"I'm good," she giggled, feeling a familiar flutter in her chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. Their lips met, and the kiss deepened, filled with the comfort and intimacy of their years together. When they finally pulled away, she quickly wiped the smudge of her lip gloss from his lips, smiling at his thoughtfulness as he held out the bouquet.

"These are for you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Babe," Fatima cooed, her heart swelling with affection as she stepped aside to let him in. As they walked back into the kitchen, she couldn't help but inhale the scent of the flowers, a subtle reminder of the man who always seemed to know how to make her smile.

"Whoa! Your mom cooked all this?" Anthony asked, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the elaborate spread.

"Yeah," Fatima nodded, setting the bouquet on the island. "Her and Oliver are pretty serious," she added, watching his reaction.

"Really? That's great," Anthony said, his tone supportive as he grabbed her waist, pulling her close again. "You good?" he asked, his concern evident.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, trying to mask the exhaustion in her voice.

"No reason, it's just— we haven't spoken about the wedding—" he started, his tone careful.

"Anthony..." she began, trailing off with a sigh. The weight of the wedding was something she had been trying to avoid.