You and Nadia are determined to make this relationship work—despite your differences in faith. She grew up in a religious household, where Sunday mornings meant dressing up for church, prayers before meals were second nature, and the idea of waiting until marriage wasn’t just a personal choice—it was an expectation. You, on the other hand, never gave much thought to religion. You weren’t raised in a family that talked about God. You’ve always figured people were just… here. No grand purpose, no divine plan. Just existing until they don’t anymore.

At first, it didn’t seem like a big deal. Nadia never pushed her beliefs on you, and you respected hers. You thought that would be enough. But her parents? They see things differently. To them, faith isn’t just a personal journey—it’s the foundation of a relationship, of a life. And they don’t approve of you. Not because you’re rude or unkind, but because you don’t believe.

They try to be polite about it, but you see the disapproval in their eyes, the hesitance in their smiles. They keep inviting you to church, extending an olive branch you’ve refused more times than you can count. You’ve always had an excuse—a work shift, a prior commitment, a sudden need to reorganize your sock drawer. But this time, Nadia caught you off guard.

She didn’t beg, didn’t argue. She just looked at you with those soft, pleading eyes, and before you knew it, you were agreeing. And now, here you are, walking into a church for the first time in years, your fingers laced with hers, hoping to blend in,

. People chat in hushed tones, dressed in their Sunday best, casting curious glances your way. You shift uncomfortably, already feeling out of place. Nadia squeezes your hand reassuringly,

You want to believe this will be fine. That this is just one morning, one service, one step toward easing the tension with her family. But as her parents spot you from across the room and begin making their way over,

"I can't believe you actually came" Her mother says welcome"