"Are you sure?" Yusuf turned his head so he was facing Asiya.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Yusuf asked again, his eyes roaming over her face, searching for a twitch of discomfort, unease, apprehension, for anything he could pull on or use as an excuse to not step through his aunt's front door.

Asiya rolled her eyes. "Yusuf, you've asked me this question like a hundred times now!"

"I just want to make sure that you're sur–"

"Yes!" Asiya snapped. "I'm sure, and we're already here, anyway!"

But we can still turn back, Yusuf whimpered inwardly.

Unlike that day when he confronted his aunt, he could stall and reverse his planned actions. He could undo whatever was written and rewrite his future by restarting the car engine, pulling out of the street, and returning to their hotel, but only if Asiya agreed. Her agreement was necessary because, without it, all that would be left was suspicion.

Yusuf glanced at the front door. Because of the wedding, it had received a new coat of paint, and bundles of flowers were on either side and bordering the walkway leading up to it. The door was covered with dainty fairy lights that blinked out welcomes and invitations every few seconds. But to Yusuf, it looked no different to the entrance of a haunted house.

He didn't want to go in there because of Asiya, because of the people in there, and because of himself, too.

"Yusuf, I'll be fine," Asiya reassured. "Your mum wants us here."

"But...I'm ashamed to say it, but she's just one person," Yusuf said.

"Wars have been won with less," Asiya smiled before exhaling loudly. "We're not in a war, though. We're at your cousin's nikkah, and we have every right to be here, even if someone tries to say otherwise. They're your famil–"

"Our family," Yusuf corrected before grimacing, embarrassed.

They hadn't treated Asiya as such. How could he even claim they were a family? His family had treated her like an ugly duckling, as though she was an imposter who had no place in a world that had also been created for her.

Yusuf hadn't helped her treatment either. He had waited too long to say something and had failed to gallantly defend Asiya, and Yusuf still wasn't helping her. He hadn't told her what had happened, and he wasn't warning her about the position they were entering the house from.

His words were still secrets, meaning he was why Asiya's heart was unguarded.

He was the one currently puncturing holes and creating leaks in Asiya's fortress. The same fortress she had allowed Yusuf to seek shelter in.

Urgency and determination suddenly gripped Yusuf by the neck. He had to tell Asiya everything before his aunt, and Sarah drew their weapons and told her themselves.

"Asiya," Yusuf said shakily. "The reason why I don't want us to go inside is because–"

"Yusuf, you don't have to tell me. I already know," Asiya said calmly.

Yusuf wanted his seat to eject him out of the car. It felt like an army of ants had crawled under his skin, and their small legs were tearing through him, cutting off his oxygen and blood supply as they aimed for his heart. "Wha-Wha-What, you know?"

"You're just looking out for me. You don't want me to be insulted, upset, or hurt, and I appreciate that and you so much, but I'll be okay. You don't need to worry." Asiya unbuckled her seatbelt. "Sticks and stones, Yusuf. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can't hurt me," she sang before kissing Yusuf's cheek.

"Come on, the car is getting stuffy," Asiya moaned as she unlocked her door and pushed it open.

Sticks and stones, Yusuf repeated to himself. Sticks and stones.

-

Yusuf followed the small crowd of men into the garden. The ceremony was over; his cousin was married, and he and Asiya could now get the hell out of his aunt's house.

He just needed to find her.

The men and women had been in separate rooms for the nikkah, and Yusuf could not concentrate throughout it.

His mind had been occupied with thoughts of Asiya. What had she been doing? Who had she been sat next to? Had she seen his aunt? Had people spoken to her? And if they had, what did they say?

Yusuf felt like an hourglass. There was no way he could have this many chances. There was no way his luck wasn't draining out through him.

He needed to find Asiya, tell her, and hopefully leave together.

"Yusuf!" He felt Asiya wrap her hand around his arm. "I thought it would be simple because it was an at-home affair. Boy, was I wrong," Asiya whistled quietly.

The garden had been transformed. It looked nothing like the one Yusuf had been sitting in a few weeks ago. The grass had been neatly cut, there were no imposing weeds and flower bundles matching the ones at the front of the house were arranged all over, like the sky had rained petals.

A large marquee had been set up, and Yusuf allowed Asiya to drag him inside it with the other guests.

"Wow! Allahuma barik," Asiya gasped as she stared at the excessive chandeliers hanging from the tent's roof.

The décor was something to marvel at. Still, it did nothing to Yusuf. It didn't change his feelings. To him, it was like they had sprayed confetti over a graveyard.

"Look at the size of the favour bags!" Asiya whispered excitedly. She gently nudged Yusuf in his side. "Do you think it would be cheeky if I looked inside one?"

"Asiya, I need to talk to you," Yusuf said lowly.

Asiya moved her gaze onto his face. The front of her eyebrows creased together slightly. "Is everything okay?"

"I'll let you decide that after we tal–"

"Yusuf! There you are!" His mother said as she bounced towards them.

His mum clasped her hands around his cheeks and jerked his face downwards so their faces were at eye level. She pressed two kisses on either side of his cheeks before she used her fingers to pinch one painfully. "So nice to finally see you!" She said snarkily.

Yusuf released a breath as he patted his cheek sulkily. "Mum. What happened to salam?"

His mum batted her clutch against his arm. "Stop being a baby," she said dismissively.

"I was just telling Yusuf that everything looks unreal!" Asiya gushed.

"Yes, it does, doesn't it!" Hannah grinned. "The girls outdid themselves with the sister's side, too! How was the men's side, Yusuf?" Hannah asked.

"Huh?"

"How did the boy's side look?" Asiya questioned.

"Did everything over there go okay?" Hannah queried.

"I mean, they both said yes, didn't they?" Yusuf replied with a shrug.

His mum bashed her bag against his arm again. "Details, Yusuf!"

Yusuf dropped his shoulders. This wasn't the conversation he wanted to be having. "I don't know what to tell you! Everything looked nice, and Rahimah's husband cried while signing the papers."

"Awww," his mum and Asiya cooed simultaneously in high-pitched voices.

Yusuf's lips remained straight while his mum and Asiya fangirled over his brother-in-law's actions.

The words he needed to say to Asiya stretched through his mind, pushing against the rest of his thoughts, reminding him of their urgency. "Actually, Mum, Asiya and I were–"

"It would've been nice for you to have gotten to know Farhan before he married Rahimah," his mum said in a pinched tone as she lightly swatted her bag against his arm again. "Being the only man in the family, you could've formed a friendship. Given him some help and advice."

"I'm not the only man in the family," Yusuf argued.

"The only young man," his mum said. "Do you really think Farhan wants to spend time talking to all those uncles? And a bunch of Rahimah's aunts? You could've become friends if you weren't ignoring us."

Yusuf felt Asiya's hands slide off him, and he watched her clasp them together at her front. "Mum, you know why I haven't really been around," Yusuf said defensively as he wrapped an arm around Asiya's waist.

"Yes, I know," his mother sighed before sharply clapping her hands together. "Oh! That was one of the reasons why I was looking for you, actually! Your aunt! She wants to talk to you."

"What?" Yusuf stammered.

His mum shrugged lazily. "She wants to apologise or something."

Yusuf gripped Asiya's waist tighter for stability. "It's not me she should be apologising to."

"Hey, it's okay," Asiya said, subtly tickling her hand against his back. "Did she say anything else?" Asiya asked his mum.

"Just that she feels bad that you guys have been isolating yourselves from the family and that she needs to apologise," Hannah informed.

"That's good," Asiya said.

"That's nonsense," Yusuf shot.

They weren't isolating themselves; they had been isolated. Asiya had practically been driven out of the family by stakes, fists, and torches of fire. Yusuf had refused to engage with them until they apologised to her, and his aunt was one of those who hadn't.

The narrative his aunt was spinning was false. She was twisting everything, turning her lies into the truth like she was Rumpelstiltskin.

Yusuf couldn't help but also ask why now? Why didn't she call him? Call Asiya? Text him? Why wait till now? And why not ask to talk to him herself? Yusuf looked around the marquee, counting his family members as he spotted them. He hadn't seen his aunt since he had entered the house. Why was she hiding?

Something felt off. Yusuf could feel it in his gut. He felt how the sky must feel when heavy, dark clouds clustered over it, nervous and suspicious, unaware of what threat they held, rain, snow, hail or whether they held no threat at all.

"I'm not going," Yusuf said.

"Yusuf!"

"Perhaps you should," Asiya said thoughtfully. "Maybe it would be good to hear her out."

Ignoring his mum, other witnesses, and all traditional customs, Yusuf lowered his forehead against Asiya's. Yusuf squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't trust her. I don't want to talk to her. I want, no, I need to talk to you. She shouldn't even be apologising to me, and what if she has nothing valuable to say?"

The honesty of Yusuf's concerns tickled against Asiya's lips. Their lips were so close the slightest movement would cause them to press against each other.

Asiya shifted her head from underneath him, and because of his mother's presence, Yusuf didn't stop her. "We can talk afterwards, and you won't know the value of her words until you hear them."

Yusuf laced his hands desperately with Asiya's. He tangled their fingers into a tight mess like he was trying to play noughts and crosses with Asiya's own.

He didn't want to leave her. Every cell in his body was screaming, urging him to stay glued to Asiya's side like a parasite, and his body felt so overstimulated and overwhelmed it was like his cells were mutating to make that possible.

Something was off, but how could Yusuf tell Asiya why without telling her what happened last time? Without involuntarily handing his aunt the strings attached to him, that would let her play puppet master?

"Maybe she'll apologise to me after she speaks to you," Asiya said, but the smirk on her face and the wiggle of her brows suggested she thought otherwise.

Asiya pulled away from him and stood next to his mother in solidarity. "Just go, Yusuf. InshAllah, nothing bad will happen."

- 

Author's Note: Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. 🙂.  Yusuf 🤝🏾 keeping secrets and pushing people away. InshAllah, I'll have the next chapter up by mid-week (to make up for not uploading last week 😭).

Also, on Human Rights Day (today), I beg you not to stop boycotting, praying, protesting, writing to, emailing and calling your politicians, MPs and senate members. If you haven't done that, start now. I know it can feel scary. People have lost jobs, job offers, positions, etc., I've lost friends and been hate-crimed for showing solidarity and in some places, people have been stabbed and shot, but honestly, what's scarier is that over 20,000 humans have been killed in two months. Of that, almost 9,000 of them were children.

It is even scarier to allow governments to speak and act as though some humans do not matter. Hold. Them. Accountable. People are not collateral. If some of us are made out to not matter, what makes you think us and our kids do? ☹️. This genocide reaffirms that children are growing up in a world where their lives hold no value. People are more valuable than this, and (it is shameful) we have to force people to recognise this.

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Chapter Glossary

Nikkah: The marriage in Islam.

Salam: shortened version of Asalamu Alaykum. A greeting.

Allahuma Barik: "May Allah Bless You/it". It's often said to another Muslim as a token of appreciation.

InshAllah: Arabic term. It means God Willing.