Yusuf reread the text and decided today would be a good day.

The message from Asiya's dad had dispersed the clouds covering Yusuf's blue skies. It had cooled down the temperature of his pillow last night and silenced the hive in his mind. It had been the beat to his morning routine that Yusuf had practically danced through.

Asiya had told her dad.

It didn't matter that there had been a delay. It didn't matter when she told him, or even what she had told him. She told him.

Asiya wasn't scared of him. She wanted him.

Yusuf wasn't sure to what level.

A small part of him murmured words of caution, telling him to remain reserved. The delay had probably been for a reason.

But the message and the call Yusuf was soon going to make was the start of something with Asiya.

Yusuf couldn't help but smile.

Beginnings were always sweet. It was written in scriptures, fairy tales and happily ever after's that the first bite was always the best one, even if it came without a promise of another one.

Yusuf glanced at the clock, pushed his chair back, and commenced his plan.

He could've worked from home, but that small, cautious part of him had won that debate. If the call with Asiya's dad went badly, Yusuf didn't want to be at home, where he would be forced to face that reality immediately.

Asiya's dad had told Yusuf to call him whenever it was best for him. Yusuf wanted to get the call over and done with so he and Asiya could move on.

With fast feet, Yusuf left the employment department's floor and slipped into a universal bathroom. 

It was a single stall protected by four brick walls and a disability-friendly lockable door.

It wasn't the most dignified place to have a first call with his potential father-in-law, but he needed privacy.

Yusuf lowered the toilet cover over the seat and sat down. His eyes counted the minutes passing on his watch. 

Once it was 9:15 am, Yusuf unlocked his phone, clicked on Abdul-Rahman's contact, and pressed call.

Yusuf's breath latched onto the walls of his throat each time the ringing paused.

"Hello?" A gruff voice echoed out of Yusuf's phone after the sixth ring.

Yusuf gripped his hand tighter around his phone. 

All the nerves hiding underneath his happiness suddenly surfaced, like someone had ripped off his Superman cape.

Yusuf's breath was taking up too much space in his throat, leaving barely enough for his words to come out. 

The best Yusuf could do was wheeze a salam into his phone's microphone.

"Wa alaykum salam." Asiya's dad responded normally, as though Yusuf didn't just sound like Voldemort. "Thanks for calling. How are you doing, Yusuf?"

It was a simple question that only needed a simple answer. Fine. One syllable. One word. 

But Yusuf was unable to easily find the word under all his nerves.

Sound bubbled out of Yusuf's lips as he stuttered a weak reply.

Great. He probably thinks I'm stupid, Yusuf inwardly sulked.

Yusuf had spoken in front of large audiences, interrogated people like they were criminals, and had his presentations assessed by individuals who possessed a ridiculous amount of wealth and power with ease. Yet with Asiya's dad, someone he couldn't even see, Yusuf was tongue-tied and butchering their conversation before it started.

Asiya's dad, probably out of pity, asked Yusuf a few ice-breaker questions, which helped Yusuf loosen up before he clicked his tongue, marking a shift in their conversation.

"Okay. Let's get to the point," Asiya's dad said.

His statement caused the hairs on Yusuf's skin to stand up.

"Am I right to assume that you and Asiya have a...history?" Asiya's dad questioned.

Yusuf felt his tongue jump, trip, and skip over words in his closed mouth. Something that, judging by Abdul-Rahman's serious tone of questioning, he couldn't afford to do when he opened it.

Yusuf steadied his breath, mentally counted to five and decided to keep his answers short and simple.

"We went to sixth form together," Yusuf confirmed.

"Is that all you were? Classmates?" Asiya's dad pressed.

"Yes."

"If you were only classmates, where has this marriage proposal and all these feelings come from?" Asiya's dad queried.

Although his tone wasn't accusatory, Yusuf could hear the accusation buried under his words.

Panic rippled through Yusuf, and he nearly slipped off the toilet cover when he realised Asiya's dad was asking if Yusuf and Asiya had ever dated.

Even though he and Asiya hadn't dated, he still felt the need to fight his corner and knock away any sort of suspicion.

He cleared his throat, hoping something convincing would cough up.

"No! I mean, yes! Yes, we were classmates. Only classmates. We've never hung out. We didn't even speak to each other outside of school. I just admired Asiya from afar. I didn't even know she was in London," Yusuf answered frantically.

"My feelings are...," Yusuf rocked forward on the toilet cover, "they're unexplainable, I know. I just liked-like your daughter, sir. I saw her and decided to take a chance I probably wouldn't get again."

That was an understatement. But it was one Asiya's dad, after a few agonising minutes, accepted.

"Alright, Yusuf. It would've been ideal to meet you in person, but I'm happy for you and Asiya to get to know each other. On the condition that until you and I can meet, you speak with the imam at Old Kent Road Mosque and use him to organise and chaperone all your in-person meetings."

Yusuf's heart skipped at those words, but he placed a hand over his chest to stop it from getting ahead of itself.

"Is that all?" Yusuf asked, with a slight shake of his head.

He was sceptical about accepting Asiya's dad's permission. Yusuf's dua and prayers had probably helped swing Asiya's dad's decision in Yusuf's favour, but it still felt too easy.

Yusuf had expected more of a grilling from Asiya's dad.

After he had questioned Yusuf's intentions, Yusuf expected the conversation to become so heated that he put his phone on the floor.

Yusuf had fumbled his way through their phone call, giving dry and disorganised answers. His performance had been far from his best.

Yet, Asiya's dad had given Yusuf permission just like that. The decision felt like a snap of a finger

Yusuf had been surrounded by so much anxiety for weeks. Asiya's dad had unwrapped it in seconds.

He had blown most of Yusuf's anxiety away like it was a frail dust cloud and not something that had been bogging him down for weeks.

Asiya's dad howled. His laugh rolled out of him and over Yusuf like waves. "Did you expect a grilling, Yusuf? I'd already done my research. I conducted a little background check on you. I'm sure, as a lawyer, you know how easy they are to do. Besides, I'd prefer to grill you in person."

Yusuf could hear the man's smile in his words and was sure he had punctuated them with a wink.

Yusuf's chuckled before noting down the imam's contact.

"I'll let Asiya know what I've decided later today, InshAllah. Whatever she decides, whether she decides to message you, is up to her," Asiya's dad said.

"Jazakallah khair," Yusuf thanked.

"Oh, and I didn't know your dad was from Niger state!"

Yusuf pinched his shirt. "Yeah, he's Nupe."

"It was a very delightful discovery. Do you see your dad's family often?" Asiya's dad asked.

Yusuf wished he could match the man's enthusiasm and give him an answer that wouldn't disappoint him as much as it disappointed himself.

Yusuf lightly tapped the sides of his phone. "Not really. Most of my dad's side doesn't live in the UK. Only one of his sisters does. We message occasionally, and she does try to visit. But ever since he died, we don't really talk much."

"Alright. I look forward to meeting you and your family soon, InshAllah," Asiya's dad said.

Once he had cut the line, Yusuf pressed his hands against his face and groaned.

Making the call in the bathroom had been the right idea. Yusuf felt like a child who had run around after eating too many sweets. He was going to be sick.

- A -

"Yusuf's dad was Nigerian."

The plate Asiya was holding nearly slipped out of her hand. "What?"

Asiya put down the plate, swiped her hands against a dishcloth and picked up her phone to see her dad's face.

"Mmm hmm. Omo Yoruba," Kulthum sang as she squashed her face into the video screen.

Asiya's eyebrows flared upwards. "Is he actually?"

"No." Her dad gave Kulthum a glare. "He's Nupe. His dad was from Niger state. It made getting opinions of him much easier."

Asiya's eyebrows pinched together as her dad fed her some information he had gathered about Yusuf.

Most of the facts her dad gave her were mundane. They were things Asiya would've probably found if she had Googled Yusuf's name.

The rest of the information was subjective, but it had superiority.

The opinions and comments her dad had received about Yusuf's personality and behaviour had come from people who had been standing silently in the corners of Yusuf's life, watching him grow. 

People from the mosque, the football club Yusuf played at, his teachers, and their friends.

Yusuf had probably thought they were just passer-by's in the story of his life—people he probably hadn't expected to leave an impression on at all.

"It's all good, Asiya. From what people say, he's a nice boy," her dad concluded.

Her dad straightened the camera, removing Kulthum from the view. "However, some of what your mum said may be true. His dad died when he was a kid, and from what I've learnt and from what Yusuf said, he's not really in touch with that side of his family."

"What are you saying, dad?" Asiya asked before sucking on her lower lip.

Her dad pressed his lips together, and his eyes roved over Asiya's tight face.

"Nothing," he sighed. "I didn't give him your number, so it's up to you to message him and create a group chat. Whatever you want. Okay?"

Asiya nodded.

"Don't forget to message Imam Abdullah. I'll speak to you again soon, darling. Love you."

"Love you too, dad." Asiya blew her dad a kiss before hanging up.

Asiya sat on a stool and rested her head on the counter.

I got what I wanted. Shouldn't I feel happier?

Asiya should've been delightfully squealing, jumping, and dancing around her flat. 

If she called Olivia and told her the news, her friend would ask why she wasn't doing that.

A part of Asiya's joy had been nicked by her father's tone, and his face had briefly creased in concern as he looked at her.

Her dad might as well have stuck black and yellow caution tape over his mouth.

She knew what her dad had wanted to say.

Don't get your hopes up, Asiya. We're not sure about him, Asiya. A similar culture and the same religion may not be enough for his family to accept you, Asiya. Colourism and racism exist, Asiya.

They hadn't issued warnings like this when she had been getting to know Ibrahim. There were no pinched lips or wary eyes.

Asiya clicked on Yusuf's name in her phone book.

Asiya had worked hard. She had spent years sawing away the bubble of insecurity her younger self had been trapped in. Asiya reinforced her armour by reciting daily affirmations and the Quran.

When she felt desperate, as though the air around her was tightening and trying to trap her back into that bubble, she blew it apart using breathing techniques.

You want this. You want to give it a go with him, Asiya reminded herself.

What had all that work and trouble been for if she allowed speculations and old insecurities to block the path she wanted to take?

She was better than that, and Asiya knew to think better of people.

Asiya exhaled sharply and imagined all her self-sabotaging thoughts were bulleting out of her.

She typed 'hello' into a new message and pressed send before she could change her mind.

Yusuf 20:48 pm: Who's this?

Asiya 20:49 pm: Asiya.

Asiya watched the grey speech bubble jiggle intensely on her screen for a few minutes before disappearing.

With shallow breaths, she waited for the bubble to reappear, but it didn't.

Still, hope hovered inside of Asiya.

Asiya propped her elbows on the counter and supported her head with her hands. She remained static, barely blinking at her screen to catch Yusuf's message once it arrived.

But after ten minutes, Asiya abandoned the idea of Yusuf texting her back.

Asiya shuddered as her mind created a cruel picture of Yusuf wrinkling his face at the sight of her name.

She flung her phone across the room, imagining Yusuf had also done that, and it landed quietly on her sofa.

"You got worked up. Over a man. For nothing." Asiya stabbed a finger at her reflection in the kitchen tiles.

"What a joke." Asiya slapped her hands against the counter before deciding that, on this occasion, eating her feelings was better than dealing with them.

As Asiya was plating her toast, a sharp ping sounded.

Asiya launched onto her sofa and dug her hand underneath the cushion her phone had slipped under.

With unsteady hands, she unlocked her phone and clicked on her messages.

Yusuf 21:15 pm: Hello. ☺️. Asalamu alaykum. I'm glad you texted.

All the butterflies in Asiya's stomach burst out of their cocoons. They flapped their wings rapidly, and their edges brushed and tickled Asiya's insides.

"What would Olivia say?" Asiya thought out loud. Her breaths had thinned into wheezes when she read Yusuf's reply.

Asiya could imagine one of her friend's green cat-like eyes slurring shut with a wink. Play it cool.

Asiya shifted her shoulders back and counted to thirty before her fingers tapped on her screen.

Asiya 21:18 pm: Oh. Really? Were you scared I wouldn't?'

Yusuf 21:18 pm: Yes. I didn't know where we stood. I confessed my feelings to you, and you aired me for weeks. 🥲.

Asiya 21:18 pm: Ha! Are you sure you're not used to that happening?

Yusuf 21:19 pm: Me? Used to that? Nah. I'm a catch. 😎.

Asiya 21:19 pm: We'll see. 🤔.

Yusuf 21:19 pm: What do you mean we'll see? 👀. We're getting married, Asiya.

Asiya rolled her eyes, but the sides of her mouth crept upwards.

Asiya 21:20 pm: I'm not making any promises. 🤨.

Yusuf 21:20 pm: We're getting married.

Asiya 21:20 pm:  🙄 Who told you that?

Yusuf 21:21 pm: It's my qadr. 😌.

Asiya 21:21 pm: What about my qadr? What if it isn't mine?

Yusuf 21:22 pm: My dua will change that, inshAllah 😉.

Asiya put her phone down. She picked up a cushion, squashed it against her face, and screamed as a ball of feelings bounced inside of her.

How could she play it cool when Yusuf wasn't?

Yusuf was dousing Asiya in fire, and she felt like she was a phoenix.

She had thought their attraction was mutual.

Yusuf's behaviour was flattering. But more than that, it was exciting.

In the past, men made feel Asiya like she was a placeholder. Throughout her search, Asiya's feelings had never weighed lighter than the ones of the potentials she had liked.

She had never experienced an attraction from this perspective. 

Where Asiya was in the tower, and the potential was at the bottom, doing the chasing, waiting for Asiya to let down her hair and give them access.

No one had ever laid down their cards without Asiya revealing hers first.

The people Asiya admired never seemed to admire her as much back. They would always find something about Asiya that prevented them from holding her in their hearts the way she held them.

That was one of the reasons why Asiya had initially entertained Ibrahim.

Asiya 21:26 pm: Astagfirullah 🤣. Who are you? What have you done with Yusuf?

Yusuf 21:27 pm: 🤣. I am Yusuf.

Asiya 21:27 pm: Okay. 😀. I wanted to confirm that before I created a group. 

Yusuf 21:28 pm: 👍👍👍👍.

Asiya 21:29 pm: You okay with it being on WhatsApp?

Yusuf 21:29 pm: I'm so glad you messaged me, I'm okay with anything. 

-

Authors Note: Need me a man that's smooth like Yusuf. 🥲. Dawood didn't know what he was talking about. 😌. Hehehe. There we have it folks they're finally speaking! 🥳. I would love to know what you thought. 🤍.  See you on the next one. InshAllah. 

-

Chapter Glossary

Salam: shortened version of Asalamu Alaykum. A greeting.

Wa Alaykum Salam: Arabic response to the above. It means, and unto you peace.

Dua: To call out to God. It is an act of worship, prayer.

Imam: A title. Someone who is a leader. 

InshAllah: Arabic term. God willing.

JazakAllah Khair: It means, May Allah reward you with good.

Mosque: A place where Muslims pray.

Quran: The thing that is recited. The religious book.

Qadr: Destiny.