Yusuf apologised that same day. A sorry rattled out of him as he robotically drove.

On their first day back home, Yusuf hovered around Asiya like bees did around flowers. He had been doing that all day. Moving around her like the slightest shift in her atmosphere would create invisible ripples that would resonate through Asiya and cause her to break.

On their second day, they had a counselling session with sister Khaladi. The strings of patience Asiya had been whittling were snipped when Yusuf had started feeding sister Khaladi superficial summaries of their weekend.

Why aren't you talking about your aunt? The question had felt like acid resting on Asiya's tongue.

It took all of Asiya's strength not to leave the room. She spent the entire session squishing all her frustration into a stuffed animal. She strangled and crushed the neck of the toy giraffe while imagining it was that of her husbands.

On the third day, Yusuf asked for Asiya's attention by brushing his hand against hers while she was in front of her bathroom mirror, preparing to go out.

It was something he hadn't done since his verbal apology. His action was brave, but his touch was delicate. Asiya barely felt him do it, but the aftershocks of his touch murmured through her.

With a touch that felt like it belonged to a ghost, Yusuf steered Asiya so her attention was on him.

"I know...I know I don't always say the right thing or anything sometimes. I know how that makes you feel. I know how it made me feel when I was younger. I hate that I'm causing those feelings." The rising of Yusuf's chest stalled before he squeezed his eyes and continued. "It's weird. I want to tell you things. Asiya, it's like I have everything written down in my head. I have descriptions, poems, paragraphs, stories, letters and every single one is dedicated and addressed to you."

Asiya watched Yusuf lift his hand. He splayed his fingers apart before tucking them into a fist. His breath staggered while he repeated that action a few more times before he returned his hand to Asiya's waist and continued speaking.

"When I try to tell you, recite the poetry, give you what you deser–what I want to give you, it's like the words fly out of my mind, or they get jumbled up, or it's like they evaporate and it's silly because I don't think I'm traumatised. I know you would understand. I thin–know nothing will happen, but it's like–"

"It's okay, Yusuf," Asiya soothed.

She understood. Asiya was seeing it happen.

Yusuf was talking unnaturally fast, almost incoherently. She could tell his inner panic was stretching through him, kidnapping the words he wanted to say and leaving him fumbling with incomplete sentences and words resembling ones under a hangman.

Asiya knew who Yusuf was. She also knew he was trying to be better.

Seeing him like this, as though he had been repeatedly failing at pushing a thread through the hole of a needle. Flustered and uncertain, his eyes unfocused and hopping around like a helpless bird made Asiya feel bad but understand.

Asiya had been pushing him too hard. Why had she been trying to fold him out of shape and into a new one like he was origami?

"I'm so sorry for that day. I shouldn't have handled or spoken to you like that," Yusuf apologised.

"It's okay," Asiya repeated. Her eyebrows were lowered with concern, but she still gave him a small smile. "I promise I understand. You're trying, and things will improve with time and help."

Yusuf's mouth twisted, and he squeezed his eyes tightly as though he didn't deserve to or even want to see the kindness and empathy sketched on Asiya's face.

"It's just my aunt. She's alway–"

Asiya felt her body heat shrivel to her centre.

She hated that. She hated how that woman still affected her. She hated how Hina had managed to sink her claws so deep into their relationship that traces of her poison still filtered through even when Asiya and Yusuf pulled them out.

Asiya wanted it to stop.

After they had left Rahimah's wedding, Asiya had intended to dig. She had planned to get to the bottom of whatever had been behind Yusuf's behaviour.

Asiya had never been a fan of mysteries, though. Fictional mysteries and non-fictional ones, true crime and drama gave her anxiety, and judging by Yusuf's current behaviour, embarking on a journey to discover what had happened between them promised no treasure at the end.

Yusuf was standing, but he looked like he was about to shatter apart as he struggled to speak to Asiya about what had happened between him and her.

Just how many more pieces was Hina going to shave off her relationship? Off Yusuf? How many more pieces were they going to give her?

"It's okay." Asiya's words sounded like they had grown teeth. "You don't have to tell me about her or what she said to you at Rahimah's, not now if you're not ready. Not ever. Her name doesn't have to be mentioned ever again."

"I think I sho–"

"Yusuf, please," Asiya whispered.

If Yusuf carried on talking, everything he had said was at risk of being tainted.

Asiya used to believe that ignorance was a false sense of bliss. A problem didn't go away because one ignored it. People were simply being delusional by acting like it did. Their happiness was fake, and their bliss was weak, like a soapy bubble. A small discovery from reality would cause it to pop.

But at this moment, all Asiya wanted to focus on was how good it had felt to hear Yusuf say all those things. To listen to him acknowledge her fears and try to ease them.

Yusuf was trying and willing. Yusuf was making an effort to do what mattered. His conversation with his aunt didn't.

Asiya had accepted his apology and was ready to move on, even though a defensive part of her was poking her back, trying to stop her from doing so.

A part of Asiya's mind was nagging her, pulling at her sleeves and trying to divert her attention by saying she was weak by allowing Yusuf's shaky confession to convince her to drop her magnifying glass and the topic altogether.

She was weak.

Maybe even desperate, but Asiya didn't care.

Now that she had mentally abandoned her concern for that situation, Asiya was allowing one sense to trump her sense.

All Asiya could focus on was how considerate Yusuf was with his hands.

Yusuf's hands were rough. No matter how often Asiya tried to massage hand cream into the callouses Yusuf had from lifting in the gym, they didn't seem to improve.

Yet, when he touched her, Asiya never felt a bump or hardened layer of skin, but the selected amount of pressure Yusuf exerted still managed to shoot straight to her core.

Was that even possible? For a touch to feel so well placed and deliberately executed that one didn't even feel the thought behind it, they just felt the result. They only felt the sparklers that lit from the touch and the trail of heat that followed.

"To be honest...Phew. I think I can only handle one confession at a time," Yusuf chuckled weakly. His face looked shiny under the spotlights, and the front of his hair flattened as sweat trickled out.

Asiya wasn't paying attention, though. Yusuf's sentence barely registered in her brain, and his words seemed to disintegrate as they touched her eardrum.

"And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquillity in them..."

Asiya did find tranquillity in Yusuf. His touch was proof of that. It felt safe and warm and just right on her, like there was a recipe to it, and Yusuf had not only followed it but practised and perfected it.

Yusuf only had a light hand on Asiya's waist. His fingers were barely gripping her side, but it felt like his hands were everywhere, overgrown and stretching all over her like branches on a tree, capturing Asiya and her heart. She didn't want someone to ruin this, not anymore.

His touch. His words. His struggle in delivering them to Asiya. His honesty. It felt like Yusuf was whispering a thousand words against her skin, and all Asiya wanted was for his lips to stamp them onto her.

-

"Sorry, Asiya. My photo shoot ran over," Olivia informed from behind her.

"I just arrived, too." Asiya left her seat to give her friend a tight hug. "It's okay."

"Oh my gosh. I feel like I've not seen you in forever!" Olivia said, her words smushing into the side of Asiya's head.

They broke apart, and Olivia picked up a menu as though she would need it. Hotspot had franchised. Its name had grown bigger, and almost every city in the United Kingdom had at least one branch. But some things, like the sticky air, the food quality and the girl's orders, never changed.

"It's been so long I wasn't even sure if I would still get invites to Iftar!" Olivia said as she slammed the spine of her menu against the table.

"Olivia." Asiya rolled her eyes playfully. "Let's be serious. You don't need invites. You have a permanent seat at my dining table."

"I would hope so," Olivia huffed. "I helped you pick and build it. I basically have parental responsibility. The poor table and chairs. I've been turned into an absent parent. They've probably been missing my ass."

"I've missed your ass," Asiya smiled.

"Who wouldn't?" Olivia giggled.

"Gosh," Asiya pressed her hands over her mouth as she registered the upcoming dates.

Ramadan was starting in less than a week. So much time had passed. She had been married for almost a year. Yusuf and Asiya were just passing the halfway mark.

If Asiya dared to look back at the past, it felt like they had been married for longer. The few months they had been together didn't feel long enough to contain all the chaos in their relationship.

"Heelloooo. Earth to Asiya." Olivia clicked her fingers in front of Asiya's face, sharpening Asiya's vision. "Knock knock. Is anyone there?"

"Sorry."

"Well. I guess that answers my question about how you and Yusuf are doing," Olivia said with a light but smug tone.

"It just feels like we've been married for longer than half a year. It almost feels scary," Asiya confessed with a slight frown. "Feels like I've been so absorbed with Yusuf and the marriage bubble to even notice the time."

"It's your first year of marriage. I think that's normal. It hasn't all been good, but no relationship always is, and I think it's a good thing for someone to be in a relationship where they don't notice time passing." Olivia tucked her hair behind her ears before continuing. "When my parents started noticing the time. Counting and voicing how long they spent together or apart, it felt like they were counting down to the end of their relationship. It was like they were waiting for time to pass and for them to be able to finally walk away."

Asiya appreciated her friend's perspective by patting Olivia's hand.

Maybe Olivia was right, and the way time had passed was good.

Asiya used to constantly fret over time about how much she lost and could have left. It didn't help that the quickening of time was a sign of Yawm al-Qiyamah.

Like Olivia had said, it hadn't always felt great, but perhaps not noticing time as much was a sign that her life had been so full and vibrant that she was finally living it. Not worrying about time was a blessing.

"Just to double-check. You have been okay?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah," Asiya nodded. "I thought his cousin's wedding was going to be a mess. We almost had a blip, but everything went okay."

"Phew."

The sound was so short that Asiya nearly hadn't heard it come out of Olivia's mouth. Phew was also such an ambiguous sound. It could mean nothing. However, being empty also meant it could be filled with anything.

The nagging in Asiya's mind was background noise that could fill it. The context in which Olivia's phew had sounded and the timing felt suspicious and sharp in Asiya's ears. The sound popped the bubble her ignorance had blown.

"What do you mean by phew?" Asiya questioned.

"Hm?"

"Why did you say phew?"

"Did I say phew?"

Asiya narrowed her eyes. "Yes, you did." Her stomach was turning. Why was Olivia acting dumb?

"Oh," Olivia shrugged. "I was relieved, I guess. It's just an expression."

Asiya's eyes dissected Olivia.

Olivia's back was no longer slumped into her chair. Her posture was unstable, her back bent at an awkward angle. Her fingertips were white and gripping the sides of her menu while her eyes were downcast, focused on it.

Focused on a menu that she didn't need.

Asiya could feel her friend's foot drumming a fast beat into the floor under their table, and the thumps synched with Asiya's heart.

"Then why did you pretend you hadn't said it?"

"Asiya, you're making a big deal out of nothing," Olivia pouted as she spread her menu and began to trace her finger under the menu items.

"No," Asiya snatched the menu from under Olivia. "You are."

"Olivia. Do you know something?"

Olivia gave Asiya a stoic look. "What would I know, Asiya?"

I almost forgot, Asiya thought as her lips fought a smile. I almost forgot how good Olivia's eyes look when they are magnified.

When Asiya turned her eyes into spotlights and focused on Olivia's, Olivia's eyes glittered with everything she knew. Every emotion, secret, and piece of information Olivia voluntarily and involuntarily collected could be seen, like the cuts and inclusions in a gem. Olivia's eyes allowed a person to differentiate between real and fake. Her friend's eyes always betrayed her.

"What wouldn't you know," Asiya mumbled.

That had always been her advantage, or maybe for someone like Olivia, who didn't use their knowledge against people, her curse.

Pretty privilege meant people confessed things to Olivia like she was a priest.

Asiya quickly learnt that people did so because they thought it would make Olivia feel closer to them and more inclined to start a relationship. It happened so much when they were kids that it made teenage Asiya insecure and question why Olivia had settled on their friendship when it was clear she had plenty of other people to choose from.

This behaviour Olivia could siren out of people had probably increased over the years.

Her career as a makeup artist had taken off. Olivia had clients waiting on a waitlist to get onto her actual waitlist. She had racked up more than four hundred thousand followers online, and people recognised her in the street.

Olivia was pretty, but now she had power.

There wasn't a community in Britain that hadn't heard of Olivia. There wasn't a person who wouldn't want Olivia to know them. Even if it was the dirtiest part of them.

Olivia held Asiya's stare for much longer than Asiya had thought she could before her face crumpled. "I'm sorry I denied it, okay! I panicked! I didn't want you to know! I didn't want to know!" Olivia rambled. "I didn't want to know anything about Yusuf! I know it's not true, though! It's, what's that word you use? Fitneck? Fatnah?"

"Fitnah," Asiya corrected.

"Yes! Fitnah! Not worth it, Asiya! All false! All fitnah! Just a bunch of bull!"

"What do you know?" Asiya's voice was quiet.

"Do you really want to know?" Olivia's voice was equally quiet.

No. Yes. I don't know. Is this right? By forcing Liv to tell me, am I dragging another person into my relationship? Am I being a bad friend? A bad wife? I told Yusuf to let it go. I told him earlier today I was letting it go.

Asiya had initially decided that she didn't want to know. But now that Asiya knew there was something she didn't know, the justifications for her earlier decision were weakening, and she could hear that voice again, nagging at her loudly.

Asiya opened her mouth. She was meant to have settled this issue with Yusuf, but her desire to know more was eating through her, making her feel starved.

"Yes. I really do."

The words shot out of Asiya so quickly that they weren't fully formed when they landed in the atmosphere. They sounded breathless and desperate. But Asiya was desperate.

- 

Author's Note: 🥁. Please don't hate me! 🫣 I went away and I really didn't want to split this chapter up. Splitting it up has messed up my plans and numbering, lol, but Microsoft Word told me this bit alone was six pages (and my margins are set to narrow 🤓), so I had to force myself to stop! However, splitting it into two means the next chapter should be up by Monday, hopefully earlier InshAllah.

Will Olivia tell her? Actually, what will Olivia tell her? Olivia wasn't there. She only knows what people are saying or what she's been told. 🙃 I don't know how to feel about that. 

My family and I attend an Islamic getaway/retreat annually around this time. It's full of activities and educational talks, and it's just an opportunity to meet other Muslims, to be honest. I've been attending it since I was nine, and I'm in my twenties now, so it's pretty much a tradition, alhamdulillah. I met two of my besties as a kid when I was there. 😭. They attended every single year, too. Last year was the first year I was alone. One is married with a bebe, 🍼, Allahuma Barik, and the other is in her final year of university.

This year was fun, though. I met a lot of gorgeous sisters, and we stayed up chatting every night. 🥹. I'm super sleep deprived. I forgot how nice it is to be able to talk freely. (Especially with the ongoing genocide) to speak to people who hold the same values, have the same views, and just get stuff without you having to explain. And even if they don't get it, you don't have to defend yourself because (most importantly) they won't judge you.

If you ever need someone like that, my DM's are open. ❤️. 

-     

Chapter Glossary

Iftar: The meal eaten by Muslims at sunset after they have broken their fast. 

Ramadan: The ninth month in the Islamic calendar. Muslims who have reached puberty, are (mentally and physically) healthy, not pregnant, not breast feeding or on their period are obliged to fast from sunrise to sunset everyday. 

Yawm al-Qiyamah: The Day of Resurrection, Reckoning or Judgment. Everything will be destroyed. Mankind will be raised and judged. 

Fitnah: Has many meanings, but most commonly used to describe a test. In this context it means, falling into a sin or sin.

This verse: "And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquillity in them..." comes from the Quran. Surah Al-Room - Verse 21.