My throat tightened.
“But what if I disappoint them? What if they can’t accept…”
“What if they surprise you?” she interrupted gently. “What if they love you more than what they expect from you? And if they don’t…” She squeezed my hand. “Then you’ll find your real family, the people who choose to love all of you.”
I felt tears prick my eyes, thinking of Marley’s easy acceptance, her parents who apparently loved her unconditionally.
“What if the person you care about isn’t exactly what they have in mind?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Then you love them anyway, and you hope your family learns to love your happiness more than their own plans.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then at least you’ll know you chose love over fear. And trust me, honey, that’s a choice you can live with. The other way around…” She shook her head and scoffed. “That’s the choice that kills you slowly.”
“It’s scary,” I whispered.
“Terrifying,” Funmi agreed with a watery smile. “But you know what’s scarier to me? Looking back at your life and realising you never really lived it, that you spent all your time being what other people wanted instead of discovering who you actually are.”
She lifted her glass with her free hand, ice cubes clinking softly against the sides.
“Besides, if you’re already questioning everything they taught you about love and life, you might as well question it for something that makes you genuinely happy.”
And despite everything, the weight of secrets, the fear of family judgment, the complexity of having feelings for someone from a completely different world, I found myself smiling.
A huge wide grin spreading across my face, and the warmth spread through my entire body until I felt lighter.
“I told you to sit back and relax,” I said as Marley hovered behind me in the kitchen, her arms sliding around my waist. “I don’t know how you can stand here behind me inhaling these onions without your eyes peppering you.”
“You’ve started again with your foreign lingos. Peppering?” She laughed against my shoulder. “Is that even a thing?”
“It’s a thing where I’m from. Your eyes will start peppering you soon, just wait.”
“My eyes will start… burning, you mean?”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not the same thing.” She squeezed me tighter. “But fine. Maybe my belle is sweet for you, so the onions can’t touch me.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Your belle is what now?”
“Sweet. For you. You know, like how you say it. My stomach is happy because of you.”
“Marley, that’s not?—”
“Wait, wait. Let me think of another one.” She was grinning now; I could hear it in her voice. “Ah! This your onion sef, it’s doing me somehow.”
“Jesus Christ… I don spoil you finish.” I shook my head, still smiling as I continued dicing the purple onion carefully, trying to focus on my knife work despite the way her chin rested on my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck.
“You have… and about why I’m standing beside you while you dice these onions…” she murmured, her voice softening. “Maybe it’s because I just enjoy being close to you. Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t accidentally cut yourself.”
“Uhmm, hello. I’ve been cooking since I was ten,” I protested, but I was smiling as I said it. The familiar weight of her against my back felt right.
“Mmm, but have you ever cooked while distracted by someone as charming as me?” she teased, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below my ear.
My knees nearly gave out as I quickly turned to face her.
“Speaking of distractions… let me distract you a little. I got you something. It’s on the dresser in the bedroom.”
