A walk on thorns

Chapter 21| Time Flies...

Anisha’s POV

Tears streamed steadily down my cheeks as I tried to make sense of the past and align it with the chaotic present. These products, simple and unassuming, seemed to hold a strange connection. I realized this the moment Jalila set them before me, her expression calm but unreadable, as though she knew something I didn’t.

Mama has been sending me these things for as long as I can remember, and I’ve always thrown them out without a second thought. Yet now, here they are again, brought to me by Jalila, who has kept them stored away all this time. Wallahi, I feel so lost. A part of me insists that these items are the solution, that if I’d used them from the start, none of this mess would’ve happened. But another part, the part clinging to my old self, argues against it and sides with Sabrina.

I used to think just like Sabrina. I asked myself the same question: why should I consume something and expect it to affect someone else? It didn’t make sense to me, and it still feels wrong. But telling Sabrina I agree with her now is out of the question. The way she carries herself, so self-assured, almost smug, is frustrating beyond words.

Jalila is coming the day after tomorrow to take her things back. Until then, I’m stuck here, torn between hope and doubt. I can’t lose what might be my last chance at happiness. If this is the wrong path, Allah knows and sees everything. He promised that no soul will be burdened beyond what it can bear, and I’m holding tightly to that promise for comfort.

Even after making this decision, my conscience remains uneasy. Sabrina’s words about me breaking her heart cut deeper than I want to admit. She’s my sister, and no matter what, that bond matters. Knowing I’ve hurt her in some way makes my chest ache in a hundred different ways.

The tears wouldn’t stop as I replayed everything in my mind. Jalila’s persistence, Mama’s unwavering belief in these items, and Sabrina’s sharp, painful words, all of it swirled together, leaving me more confused than ever. I felt stuck, adrift in a sea of doubt and indecision, with no clear way forward.

Sabrina's POV
3 days later

For the past three days, Anisha and I had been avoiding each other. Yesterday, I heard a choking sound in the middle of the night, but I dared not step out, I wanted to avoid stories that touched the heart. That reckless woman was still lingering around. I saw her twice, and each time our eyes met, she had that cunning smirk plastered across her face for no apparent reason. I knew she was targeting me, but she had no idea who Sabrina Tahir Ribado truly was. I promised myself that the day she dared to taunt me would be the day of her greatest regret.

She will hear words she never imagined existed, and if she tries anything physical, I will make sure to leave her with a mark she’ll never forget. I am not her mate!

To my utter disbelief, this Nadeera of a woman controlled everything in the house, what came in, what went out. Even the housemates only attended to her when she was around, except for Sarah and Jessica, who had been employed by Anisha since her early days. Anisha herself was no more than a shadow in this house, an insignificant figure whose presence was unwelcome from the start.

Meanwhile, my bond with Rubina was blossoming beautifully. Her mother barely had time for her, and now she was becoming more attached to me with each passing day. However, I’ve noticed something peculiar, a repetitive habit she displays when she’s tense or confused. I doubt either of her parents has ever noticed it. The truth is, this child was raised 80% by Sarah, Jenny, and the other housemaids. That’s the reality.

Yesterday, Rubina spent almost two hours on a video call with MJ. He was sharing tips with her about photography and painting, interspersing his advice with funny stories from his early days on the job, how others laughed at him and underestimated his talent. I admired the way he explained everything so simply, making it easier for her to grasp. But now, I wonder how I’ll make time for her once school starts. The registration process begins next week, and it already feels like an eternity. Even though MJ promised to help since he has connections, I still feel the weight of pursuing a degree that I know I’ll never use. If my family had been supportive, I could have been in my final year at the Artistry Academy in Lagos or Egypt. But for them, it’s an absolute no.