A walk on thorns

Chapter 30| Worse Arrival

Sabrina's POV

“This is so kind of you, MJ. Your words feel like a soothing balm, lifting the weight I've been carrying for years. Oh, Sabrina is a determined prostitute. Oh, who will marry you while you’re gallivanting on the streets? Oh, you’ll be thirty-two without a man in your life. They say these things as if they’re easy for me to bear, as if I’ve chosen this path. And yet, Anisha, who suffers in silence, is their daily favorite.” I smiled, a mix of relief and exhaustion bleeding through my expression. “Thank you for your compassion, for your words, I can’t even express how much it means.”

“Don’t, Sabrina. Why thank me for something so obvious? I just did what anyone should do. You’ve been there for me too, this is mutual. And let me tell you something,” he leaned slightly closer, his voice dipping to a conspiratorial tone, his gaze steady and unwavering, “tell those who threaten you with age that you won’t be thirty-two and alone. And even if you were, so what? Having a man isn’t the ultimate achievement for a woman. If it were, your sister would be the happiest woman alive with her handsome, wealthy, and influential husband.”

His words carried a kind of defiance, the boldness lighting up his features with a confidence that made my heart stir.

“Delivered!” I chuckled, shaking my head at his audacity. “You know what? I’ll tell them. In fact, I’ll add that I’m not alone anymore, I’ve got a fierce protector who’ll come for anyone who dares mess with me.” I laughed lightly, but the sincerity of the statement settled deep in my chest.

“Aha! And it’s not just talk. I won’t be lenient with anyone who provokes my Hazelnut.” His grin was wide, mischievous, and almost contagious.

“But MJ,” I said, softening my tone, “you know I have to be careful, right? This fight, it’s with people who will never appreciate my efforts, no matter what.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, thoughtful. “You’re doing this because you want her to see she can stand up for herself, that there’s no harm in fighting back. But you’re walking a tightrope, Hazelnut. Just don’t let their ignorance drag you down.”

I nodded, his words resonating. He always knew how to balance his humor with seriousness, how to lighten the weight without dismissing it.

“Speaking of Hazelnut,” I teased, tilting my head, “what’s with this nickname you’ve been calling me?”

He smirked, leaning back as if reveling in the question. “The color of your eyes, Sabrina. Three years ago, when I first saw your page, I noticed it, those hazel eyes. Masha Allah, they’re beautiful. I didn’t even need to meet you to know.”

A surge of warmth rose to my cheeks, and I bit my lip, helpless against the wave of shyness.

“Ayy, don’t blush now!” he laughed, throwing his head back in a way that made the dimples in his cheeks deepen even more.

“Well,” I retorted playfully, “should I tell you how distracting your dimples are? You might find it just as unfair as this conversation.” My giggle broke through, teasing and light.

“Are you flirting with me, Sabrina?” His eyebrow arched, his smirk turning sly, but there was a softness in his tone that made my heart flutter.

“Perhaps,” I replied, meeting his gaze boldly. “Rubina’s not here to scold me, so why not?”

The air between us grew warm, the tension playful but charged. We both burst into laughter, our voices mingling like an unspoken agreement to let go of the heaviness, even if just for a while.

After our emotional exchange, we spent the rest of the day walking through the park, a peaceful silence falling over us occasionally. Lunch at a nearby restaurant felt like a celebration, a break from our lives’ chaos. On our way back, I asked him to stop by a store so I could pick up a few essentials. He obliged without hesitation, waiting patiently as I navigated the aisles.