Asiya had downed her tea because she could no longer stand the taste. Yusuf had spoilt it, and even though she had extra packets of sweetener in her bag, no amount of sugar would've fixed it.

Everything made sense: Yusuf's family's lack of communication, his hesitation, and how he avoided her questions about them.

Yusuf's family wasn't the problem, or, according to him, the entire problem. She was.

Yusuf hadn't said that. Not exactly. But what was Asiya supposed to think?

Yusuf's family was still coming over, but did that mean they actually wanted to meet her?

Technically, Asiya only had to impress Yusuf's mother. She was the person Yusuf was closest to.

If Asiya and Yusuf got married, they wouldn't live with his external family or probably see them often.

But his mother sometimes acts as their mouthpiece.

Yusuf's words.

Did that make Yusuf's mother better than the rest of his family, or worse?

What did that even mean? That she could think for herself but chose not to?

Why?

If only Yusuf had given Asiya more time.

The few extra seconds Asiya had bought herself by guzzling down her drink hadn't been enough for her to decide whether she wanted to call everything off. The three-hour train journey hadn't been long enough, nor had the night.

Asiya had tossed Yusuf's words in her mind all night, and despite her turning and the wrinkles in her bedsheets, her mind had not produced a single thought she was confident in.

Yusuf's family didn't have to like her, but Asiya wanted them to. She wanted them to think she was good enough—for Yusuf, for them. Asiya wanted to feel like she was enough.

Yusuf's reassurances were like someone putting a plaster over a broken leg. They had done nothing for Asiya.

Asiya pinned her scarf under her chin, gave her reflection a once-over and left her room.

"You okay? Asiya's mum asked as Asiya walked down the stairs.

It was almost 2:00 pm. Yusuf and his family would arrive soon. Asiya's entire family, including baby Fawaz, had gathered at the bottom of the staircase to welcome them.

Asiya hadn't told anyone what Yusuf had said. If she had, her mother would've wrapped the meeting up before it started.

"I'm nervous," Asiya admitted.

Her mum took her hand. "Oh, sweetheart. Pele. They'll love you."

I wouldn't bet on it.

The doorbell rang, and everyone straightened. Asiya's mother dropped Asiya's hand and shooed her family backwards so there was enough space to open the door.

"Yusuf! Asalamu alaykum! Welcome! We're so glad you're back," Asiya's mum greeted, slipping into the role of the perfect host.

Yusuf replied and stepped into the house with two women. One was taller than the other, but they were both shorter than Yusuf.

"This is my mum and my khala, auntie, My mum's older sister." Yusuf's hands moved in front of the women as he introduced them.

Salam's were exchanged, names were told, and shoes were removed.

Kulthum gave Yusuf's family an animated tour of the house with Asiya and her parents before they sat in the living room.

Yusuf's aunt didn't walk with the group while they toured her home. She didn't stick with Yusuf or his mum. 

She followed them. 

She was always two steps behind, as though she was their bodyguard and didn't trust their safety in Asiya's home.

Asiya watched Yusuf's family settle on the sofa opposite her. 

His aunt was the last to sit down, and she did so cautiously, her flowy shirt bunched in one of her fists as she eyed and dusted non-existent crumbs off the soft leather.

"Your home is lovely," Hannah, Yusuf's mum, complimented.

"Thank you. Alhamdulillah. We're glad you're in it," Asiya's mum beamed.

"Yusuf is a lovely lad, but we wanted to meet and make sure everyone was on the same page before making any decisions," Asiya's dad said.

"Of course," Hannah nodded.

"That is the proper way to do things. Family and their opinions are important," aunt Hina said as she cut Yusuf a look he ignored.

"Very, but not more important than the couples," Aminah commented.

Asiya watched aunt Hina's thin, slit eyes slide onto Aminah, who was bouncing a happy Fawaz on her knee.

Unlike Hannah, aunt Hina hadn't smiled once. "How long have you been married?" aunt Hina asked Aminah.

"Nearly five years," Aminah responded.

"Alhamdulillah," Asiya's dad added.

"I can't imagine how nerve-racking it might be for you, Hannah, with Yusuf being your only child. When Aminah introduced us to Farooq, I didn't know what to do, and I think my exact words were, 'Excuse me?' when Asiya told us about Yusuf," Asiya's mum chuckled.

Hannah chuckled too, her cheeks rounding cheerfully as she did.

"How did you react when he told you about Asiya?" Asiya's mum asked.

Asiya watched Yusuf and his mum exchange a look before Yusuf's face shut down.

Hannah smiled, short wrinkles bordering her eyes as she did so. "Oh, gosh. Over the top, as usual. I put Yusuf through it."

Yusuf didn't add any commentary of his own.

He was pinched in between his aunt and his mum on the sofa. His hands were strapped to his side, and his legs were firmly together like his family members were two moving walls pressing in on him.

Asiya shifted in her seat as conversations flowed throughout the room.

 Hannah's voice was light and bright. The sides of her lips lifted upwards as she spoke much more than Asiya had expected.

Yusuf was speaking to Farooq, and Asiya's dad, but his eyes kept flickering over to his still, silent aunt, and every other minute, they would land on Asiya.

Asiya ignored Yusuf's gaze each time. 

She hadn't spoken to him since he had left the first-class carriage to take his seat on the train, which was odd for them as they usually talked into the night.

After a few more minutes, they split up to eat. Asiya's mum directed Yusuf's family into their dining room.

"Just us girls," Asiya's mum sang as she sat down.

"Asiya, are you and your sisters close?" Hannah asked her. "I had a lot of fun growing up with my sisters."

Asiya straightened her posture and smiled. "Yeah. Alhamdulillah. It is nice."

"When you're not annoying," Kulthum snubbed before she licked her spoon.

Asiya shook her head, her smile remaining firmly on her lips. "Who do you believe is the annoying one, auntie?" she teased.

Hannah laughed.

"Do you know how many kids you would like?" aunt Hina asked.

Asiya blinked, and her smile shrank as she became shy. "Er, I'm not too fussed, to be honest. Whatever Allah wills."

Aunt Hina pushed away her plate and picked up her glass. "So you don't want kids?"

Asiya watched Aminah's eyes roll to the ceiling.

So what they say is true, Asiya said inwardly. 

She wasn't married yet, but people were already probing Asiya on topics that should've been a no-go because they fell under her and Yusuf's private life.

"I do. InshAllah. I'm just not set on a number," Asiya said.

"That's quite odd. Other women think about kids a lot. Makes me wonder what else you haven't thought about."

Aunt Hina's tone was simple, void of any obvious judgment or malice. 

It could've been due to Asiya's biases, but something about aunt Hina's sentences felt off to Asiya. For a reason, aunt Hina hadn't yet given her, it felt mean.

"Do you plan to continue working after you get married?" aunt Hina asked.

"Do you like your job, Asiya?" Hannah swooped in. Her voice sounded even sweeter and lighter than before, as if she was trying to compensate for the lack of kindness in Hina's own.

"Yes, I love it," Asiya replied.

"It landed right in her lap! Alhamdulillah," Asiya's mum commented.

Asiya turned back to aunt Hina. "I'm going to continue working, inshAllah. Yusuf and I have spoken about it."

One of aunt Hina's brows pricked up. "Really?"

"Yes."

"How are you going to balance all your duties? How can you be a good wife, homemaker, and mother if you're always working?"

"She won't always be working," Aminah interrupted. "InshAllah, Asiya will be fine, and she won't be alone. She'll have Yusuf."

"Men and women have set roles," aunt Hina said.

"Yes. Alhamdulillah for Islam," Aminah said.

"I also meant culturally. There are things that are meant to be respected. Though I doubt that means anything to you," Aunt Hina said as she folded her arms.

"We're from different cultures. I think Hina is just saying there'll be some different expectations," Yusuf's mum added quickly.

Expectations. There's that word again.

"I'm sure the kids have already spoken about such things, and inshAllah, there'll be nothing they won't be able to work out," Asiya's mum said.

"Islam trumps culture anyway," Aminah said while Asiya nodded.

Asiya slouched into her seat slightly. She picked up her fork and turned her attention back onto her plate, thinking that was the end of whatever that was, but aunt Hina continued talking to Asiya.

Their conversation felt like an inquisition. 

Aunt Hina's questions were intrusive, but she asked them carelessly anyway.

Then, she seemed to mock Asiya's answers or put a lot of effort into letting Asiya know they weren't good enough.

Asiya's patience thinned into anger with every tut, sigh, and remark Yusuf's aunt made.

Tension began to creep in between them, and Asiya was sure others felt it, too, because her mum instructed Kulthum to finish her food in the kitchen.

"Have you guys discussed finances? Money? How will you contribute?" Aunt Hina asked.

Hannah put down her spoon and cleared her throat.

"What?" Aunt Hina looked at her and pouted like a child before turning to Asiya. "I just wanted to make sure you're not a gold digger."

Asiya could tell that wasn't a joke, but everyone else at the table chuckled weakly.

"We've discussed it," Asiya said snippily as irritation prickled through her. "Yusuf's told me how much he earns, and I think–"

"You know how much he earns?" Aunt Hina cried.

Asiya's eyebrows pinched together. She hadn't planned to disclose Yusuf's salary or what she and he had discussed. "I think that's enough questions for now," was what Asiya had intended to say if the woman had let her finish her sentence.

Aunt Hina tutted and said words, mostly in a different language, under her breath.

Disrespectful was the only one Asiya understood.

"Times are different now," Yusuf's mum said with a tight smile.

"No." Aunt Hina shook her head at her. "They are different."

One could see the tension now. It was on Asiya's face, in her hunched shoulders, and bouncing through her left leg.

It was in Hannah's neck that she was rubbing nervously, and it could be heard in Asiya's mum's laugh as she tried to dismiss aunt Hina's comment.

"Yusuf and I are not that different. We share a culture," Asiya said, a dull anger drumming through her.

"Oh," aunt Hina waved her hand, "We don't count that. Yusuf's dad is dead, after all."

"Our food is getting cold," Aminah said.

Aunt Hina scoffed and leaned her head closer to Hannah. "What did I say about disrespect?"

"The only one being disrespectful here is you," Asiya said boldly. "I don't think Yusuf would appreciate you speaking about his absent father that way."

"Sorry. I forgot missing dads is a touchy subject. The shoe is normally on the other foot."

Aunt Hina's words rang in Asiya's ears.

"I beg your pardon?" Asiya's mum said.

"I think Hina will explain what she really meant," Hannah said.

Asiya knew her mum wasn't asking for clarification. 

Aunt Hina had spoken clearly enough for everyone to hear. 

Her mother was issuing a warning, adding another one to Aminah's and Asiya's. 

They were giving the woman a chance to stop talking. They were showing her amnesty.

However, aunt Hina seemed intent on pocketing their red cards as if she were the referee of a football game.

"You and Yusuf are not the same. At all. You are black."

Aunt Hina said the word black like it was an insult. She used the word like it was an insult. The word crackled up the back of her throat and splintered through the air. The insult struck Asiya so hard that her head turned.

Expectations. Expectations.

Yusuf hadn't told Asiya about those expectations or why his family had them.

Questions piled rabidly in Asiya's mind, and Yusuf's words were no longer enough to answer them. Aunt Hina, who had shown she didn't need a mouthpiece, could.

Asiya levelled her voice. "What's wrong with being black? You said the word like it was an insult."

"It's not an insult," Hannah said, but her voice was too mousy to overpower the ringing in Asiya's ears.

Aunt Hina squared her shoulders and placed her elbows on the table. "No. It's not, but it should be."

- 

Author's Note: Well, all I am going to say is this is just the beginning 😆. What would you do if your potential family-in-law made such comments at your dining table? In my house, hands would be thrown 😮‍💨. 

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think and don't forget to vote, comment and share😘. 

- 

Chapter Glossary

Asalamu Alaykum: Arabic greeting. It means peace be upon you.

Khala: (Urdu) Auntie.

Alhamdulillah: Arabic phrase. It means praise be to God/We thank God.

InshAllah: Arabic term. God willing. 

Pele: (Yoruba) Sorry.