Layla

It was the third day after my impromptu marriage to Asad, and I was still at Adda Malika's house. Everyone here had been going out of their way to cheer me up since that infamous day. Whether they're trying to hide their efforts or not, it's glaringly obvious to me, and I couldn't help but appreciate it, even if I didn't show it as much as I should. Their attempts to distract me from what happened have been mostly successful. The thoughts of my marriage, and everything leading up to it, have been receding bit by bit each day, thanks to Adda Malika, Lulwa, my nephew Adnan, my nieces Amani and Amaya, and even my brother-in-law, Ya Abdullah.

From the moment I woke up that first morning, Adda Malika and Lulwa teamed up to immerse me in all sorts of girly activities. It started with Malika insisting I needed a proper breakfast and dragging me to the kitchen, where they had already set out ingredients for pancakes. Of course, it turned into a group effort, with Lulwa jokingly criticizing my flipping skills and Adda Malika insisting I was "getting rusty." Later that day, they pampered me with a full-on self-care session. Aunty Yam Yam had sent over a home service team from her salon, and for hours, we did facials, manicures, and even henna designs for them. The three of us giggled like kids as Lulwa experimented with bold nail colors and Adda Malika told exaggerated stories of her early days of marriage to tease me.

Adnan, my nephew, however, was the one who got me outside. He was adamant that we needed to "get some air" and pestered me until I agreed to a short cycling session around the compound. It's not like I could say no to him when he gave me that adorable, determined look. He even made a game of it, challenging me and the girls to races, which he always seemed to win, leaving us breathless with laughter.

Ya Abdullah, in his calm and steady way, facilitated a movie marathon for the entire household that evening. He turned the living room into a cozy theater with blankets, popcorn, and a projector screen. Between films, he sparked lighthearted conversations, somehow managing to draw me out of my shell without making it obvious. At one point, Amani and Amaya joined us, bringing their playful energy to the room. They insisted on watching a Disney movie, which we all happily indulged in, singing along to the songs while the kids danced around.

Despite all these distractions, my mind often wandered back to how drastically my life had shifted in a matter of minutes. To be honest, I never imagined it would take the turn it did in the days following that event. I had envisioned countless other scenarios, but this? Never. I am grateful that Malika and Lulwa never pushed me to talk when I wasn't ready. They've just been there, letting me process in my own time. I knew this was my way of rebelling, against Ummi, Ya Malik, and Uncle Alhaji Jo. Low-key, though, I'm no longer worried about the rebellion. What's more intriguing now is why none of them have contacted me directly to address the elephant in the room.

Thinking about it, my phone has been dead since the day everything happened. I shoved it in a drawer and didn't bother charging it. I'm glad I did. From what Adda Malika had told me, they've been asking about me through her, sometimes casually, sometimes with more concern. But no direct contact. Now, with the finality of Ummi's message to Malika that I must come back tonight, "enough with the cat game, time is up", I knew she meant business. There's no escaping it anymore.

A few days ago, I had so much to say to all of them. But after this short break, I've had time to think about how things turned out. I've talked myself into understanding, to some extent, the tight spot they must have been in. The cultural expectations, the pressures, and the family members present, didn't justify their actions, but they did explain them. I was still mad, but I've also realized I'm ready to face them now. Especially Ummi and Ya Malik. For Uncle Alhaji Jo, I'll meet him when I'm ready, not a moment sooner.

The next morning after I returned home, the house was a flurry of activity. Adda Malika had stayed over with me, as she promised she would, and even Lulwa and my other friends Rahilatu and Rahina had shown up bright and early. By noon, the chaos reached a new level. The reason? My in-laws. Asad's mother and sisters were coming to visit us today, or rather, to visit *me*. 

I couldn't believe it when I heard the news last night. The craziness of these past few days had already overwhelmed me, but this was a new layer to the madness. Apparently, my family had facilitated this visit. Why was I not surprised? Every hour since last night, I'd been hearing new things about the events that had unfolded during my brief absence. It felt like everyone but me had been privy to these plans, and now here I was, standing in front of the mirror, wearing a yellow fitted lace gown with intricate embroidery, feeling utterly like a doll. 

Adda Malika was bent over, carefully working on my face with her makeup brushes, her brows furrowed in concentration. Aunty Yam Yam had tamed my hair earlier, pulling it back into an elegant, soft updo that framed my face. The sweet scent of bukhoor floated in the air, thanks to Rahina and Rahilatu, who had been back and forth between the living room, the kitchen, and my room, setting up everything to perfection. 

I tried to tune out their chatter and focus on calming my nerves, but it was almost impossible. My thoughts swirled like a storm, how could I possibly meet Asad's family today? What would they think of me? What would I even say? The thought of having to face them made my stomach twist into knots. I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure I'd ever be ready. 

Then there was Asad. Four days had passed since the last time we spoke. This morning, I'd finally charged my phone after ignoring it for days. The moment it powered on, a flood of notifications appeared, including missed calls and messages from Asad. The sheer volume of them surprised me, especially knowing his reserved nature. A small part of me, a very tiny part, felt something akin to warmth knowing he'd been worried. Adda Malika had even told me that Ya Malik had instructed her to convince me to switch my phone on because Asad was trying to reach me. But, in my stubbornness, I'd held off for as long as I could. 

I thought about the questions spinning in my mind. How did Asad feel? Was he happy with this decision? Did he feel trapped, like I did? The thought of him scared me in ways I couldn't explain, yet it also left me with questions I secretly wanted answers to. But I brushed those thoughts aside. It didn't matter. At least, that's what I told myself.

"Layla!" 

Adda Malika's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. She'd been calling my name, apparently more than once.

"A penny for your thoughts?" She teased, raising an eyebrow. 

I blinked at her, wiggling my own brows in a silent question. 

"We're done," She said with a grin. "I thought you'd want to see your beautiful face. Go ahead, look at yourself!" 

I turned my eyes to the mirror and froze. 

Wow. 

That was all I could think. My reflection was... stunning. Adda Malika had worked her magic, as always. She had a knack for makeup, thanks to her years as a social media influencer, but today she'd outdone herself. My features were perfectly highlighted, soft, subtle, and elegant. If this were any other day, I'd probably be squealing with excitement. But today, I simply stared at myself, speechless. 

"Wow," I muttered under my breath, unable to stop the word from escaping. 

"Wow is right!" Lulwa's voice rang out from the corner of the room, where she'd been lounging on my bed. "Layla, your in-laws are going to be floored. They won't even know what hit them!" 

Rahilatu chimed in, dramatic as ever, "Forget floored, they're going to fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness for whatever crimes their son has committed by marrying her in such a rush."

Rahina giggled. "Honestly, Layla, if this whole marriage thing didn't happen, you could just win them over with your face. Problem solved." 

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're all ridiculous." 

"But we're not wrong!" Lulwa shot back.

"Just wait until you step into that room. They'll probably start asking for tips on how to find a second daughter to marry off to their other sons."  Rahina said. i didn't have the energy to correct her.

"Son, actually. Just two sons based on my research." Rahilatu corrected.

The room erupted in laughter, and despite my nerves, I felt a flicker of warmth. These girls knew how to make me feel better, even when I didn't want to. 

The door opened, and Aunty Yam Yam stepped inside, looking elegant in her pastel veil draped over her shoulders. Her face was calm, but her tone carried an unmistakable urgency. 

"The guests are here," She announced. "You all should start rounding up. We'll need to head downstairs in a few minutes." 

My heart sank. The laughter in the room seemed to fade into a dull hum as my nerves surged back. This was it. The moment I'd been dreading. 

"Layla," Adda Malika said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You've got this. Trust me." 

I nodded, though my throat felt tight. I wasn't sure I believed her, but I knew there was no turning back now. As I stood and smoothed out the fabric of my dress, I looked at the mirror and took a deep breath.  The fitted bodice features a sophisticated zigzag pattern that contrasts beautifully with the delicate flowers cascading across the gown. The sleeves, made entirely of lace, added a touch of elegance and highlighted the detailed craftsmanship, while the form-fitting design accentuated the curves with subtle grace. This was supposed to be my Eid outfit.

I sat there quietly, my back straight but my shoulders tense, beside Asad's mother. Her presence, so warm and encompassing, softened the edges of my nervousness a little, even though I hadn't properly seen her face yet, thanks to Ummi's big veil covering most of it. But her aura alone was enough to make me realize she wasn't the kind of mother-in-law I'd imagined in my many sleepless overthinking nights. There was something about her, graceful yet unpretentious, composed but so... kind.

The moment I had entered the room, all eyes had turned to me, and her daughters, Asad's sisters, wasted no time fawning over me. 

"Ya Allah," One of them, Sahla, I think, had said with a bright smile, her tone playfully dramatic, "Now I understand why my brother has been acting so so strange." Her words came with such teasing affection that the nervous knot in my stomach loosened just a little. 

The other sister, Nahla, I had learned, giggled along with her, nudging each other knowingly, while 4 other women gushed from their side. Asad's mother, Ammi, as she told me to call her, reached for my hand and held it gently. "Mashallah, my daughter," She said, her voice soft yet firm as she held my gaze for a brief moment. "May Allah bless and protect you always." Her duas flowed in perfect, beautiful Arabic, words so pure that they hung in the air like silk threads weaving a blessing over me. I blinked rapidly, trying not to let the weight of her kindness overwhelm me.

It was strange, comforting, even, how familiar she felt. The way she spoke to me, and touched my hand so tenderly, reminded me of my own mother, Ummi. And yet, as I drifted in and out of the conversations buzzing around me, I found myself noting little details that made Ammi unique. I couldn't help but realize that she must have learned Fulfulde, my father's language, just as my mother had, perhaps for the same reason. For love, I thought, for her husband. 

I shifted slightly as Ammi's hand on mine brought me back to the present. 

"Layla," She said gently, her tone both commanding and motherly, "I want you to tell me if there's ever anything you want, anything, my dear. Especially now, as we prepare for the wedding."

I opened my mouth slightly to respond, but the words felt stuck in my throat. My mind wandered back to the earlier part of the conversation when they had first asked me if I wanted a wedding. At the time, the answer had seemed obvious. I'd said no, believing it was the simplest answer, given the circumstances. I didn't want a fuss or any of the chaos that I thought might accompany such an event. 

But before I could blink, Ummi and Adda Malika had politely, and yet very firmly, intervened. 

"Layla," Adda Malika had started, her voice sweet but unyielding, "This isn't just about you." 

"It is a joyous occasion, my love," Ummi had added. "It must be celebrated. Properly." 

Ammi had nodded in agreement, speaking with gentle authority. "It's our responsibility, Layla. You and Asad deserve to be celebrated. Happiness, no matter the circumstances, should always be cherished. Always." 

At that moment, I'd realized there was no point in arguing. Between my mother, my sister, and now Ammi, I knew the decision was out of my hands. So I had let myself drift out of their chatter, nodding along at the right moments, my mind swimming in thoughts I couldn't quite pin down. 

I was pulled back yet again when Ammi said something that made my heart stop for a beat. 

"Sahla, bring them here." 

I blinked as I turned to see Sahla, her other sister and a girl rise and move to the side of the room. When they returned, they were carrying boxes. Not one, not two, but several. Stacked high.

Ammi leaned forward slightly, her voice calm as always but laced with an affection I hadn't yet grown used to. "This is just a small gift for today," She said, gesturing to the boxes now being set on my lap. "I didn't have much time to prepare, but next time we meet, Inshallah, I'll do it properly." 

I nearly choked on air. Small gift?

The boxes, red boxes, heavy and ornate, were stacked so high that I could barely see over them. Their delicate detailing glimmered under the light, and the weight of them pressed firmly onto my legs. My breath hitched. There was nothing "small" about what was unfolding before me. My fingers grazed the edges of the top box instinctively, and I felt its smooth surface give away its luxurious contents. My mind screamed that I didn't need to open them to know what they held. The cool metallic gleam that peeked from one slightly ajar box confirmed it. Jewelry. Gold. 

I couldn't even look up. If I did, I'd probably embarrass myself with how wide my eyes must have been. 

"You don't need to be so shy, my dear," Ammi said, her voice warm with happiness. "It's just a little something. You are part of our family now." 

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. "Jazakillahu khairan," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. This is too much, Ammi.  I wanted to add but I knew better than to embarrass myself or underestimate what I deserved, I have boundaries to being humble, fortunately, or unfortunately. "This is a lot."

"No, no," She said quickly, waving her hand dismissively. "What is 'a lot' between a mother and her daughter?"

I looked down again, unable to form any more words. 

Sahla grinned at me, leaning slightly forward. "Layla, if this is 'a little something,' I can't wait for you to see what Ammi brings next time. This is her sixth love language." She said teasingly, earning a quiet laugh from the others. 

"You will be shocked, trust me." One of the aunties said.

I swallowed hard, my lips twitching into a shy smile. "I..." I murmured truthfully. 

Ammi reached over and placed her hand gently on my knee, forcing me to look up at her, at least a little. Through her veil, I could see the softness of her gaze. "Just say you are happy, my dear. That's all I want to hear. Your happiness is my happiness." 

I nodded slowly, my voice failing me. "I... I am happy, Ammi," I said softly. It wasn't a lie, even if I couldn't quite wrap my head around it all yet. 

Her smile deepened beneath the veil. "Good," She said, her voice like a balm to my nerves. "Now, take your time, Layla. You are part of us now, and there's no need to feel nervous. You'll see, it will all be beautiful, Inshallah." 

As I sat there, my lap hidden under layers of gold and my heart pounding from a mix of nerves and awe, I thought about how strange life could be. Days ago, I had felt like my world was spinning out of control. And now, here I was, surrounded by these women, warm, welcoming, and full of love.  A little too good to be true even for my ever-optimistic, confident self.

I felt Ammi squeeze my hand one last time before leaning back, her voice soft and content. "May Allah bless every step of this journey for you and Asad." 

As the soft hum of conversation continued around us, Ammi's hand gently patted mine, bringing my attention back to her once more. Her warmth hadn't wavered; if anything, her presence only grew more reassuring as the minutes passed. With that same composed and motherly demeanor, she turned slightly toward my mother, who was seated not far from us.

"Hajiya Fatma," Ammi began, her voice carrying the same respectful tone that had laced every word she'd spoken since I arrived. The room quieted ever so slightly as if everyone instinctively knew something important was about to be said. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to have a few moments alone with Layla. There is a matter of some importance I would like to discuss with her privately."

——————
Hello darling readers,

How you've all been well! And I hope I've been missed🤭 I'm back!

I've a challenge for you all! If we beat and double the comments in the last comment section in this chapter and the next, we might just get a triple update this week😄 Oh, did I forget to say? It's double update tonight so scroll up for the next chapter!

Enjoy!

As always, your comments and dms are deeply appreciated so keep them coming! Find me on IG: husna_thewriter