A walk on thorns

Chapter 45| The Class Party

Sabrina's POV
The Class Party!

It’s the day, my baby’s birthday! Yesterday was a whirlwind, the kind of busy that leaves you breathless but fulfilled. MJ, ever the thoughtful partner, was by my side through every moment. His determination to ensure that Rubina would never share the traumas he had endured growing up was both admirable and heartwarming. He bought six dresses and four cakes for her, and we baked two more together. The dresses were delivered yesterday along with one cake, which would be taken to her school alongside one of the cakes I baked. The grand Barbie cake, however, was scheduled to arrive at the park tomorrow.

I’d also prepared a collection of pink fashion eye masks to add a touch of elegance and glamour to the main event. Even though Rubina had told me about Mrs. Fiona’s warm introduction of her to the class, where she shared beautiful stories and encouraged friendships, I followed up with Mrs. Fiona just to ensure everything was progressing well. Alhamdulillah, it was a success, the children were kind and easily drawn into forming bonds.

Today’s event at the school promised to be a celebration of all our hard work. The school staff, led by Mrs. Fiona, had taken on the responsibility of decorating the hall. During break time, the Nursery 3 kids gathered in the brightly adorned event space, with cheerful cartoon songs playing in the background. Meanwhile, in the changing room, Anisha was helping Rubina into her dress. Watching Rubina’s face light up as her mother lovingly prepared her was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Inside the hall, it was just MJ, myself, Mrs. Fiona, and three other teachers and nannies managing the crowd. Observing the teachers calmly handling a group of ninety energetic children was awe-inspiring. Teaching truly is an art, yet one of the most underrated professions in Nigeria.

“You look as beautiful as ever, my most beautiful,” MJ whispered, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I smiled, glancing down at my outfit a black shimmering straight dress paired with its matching kimono and a black turban. The makeup artist had insisted on dark eye makeup, which felt unlike me but added a bold edge to the look. Even the six-inch heels, though intimidating, elevated the entire outfit.

“And you’re as dashing as ever,” I whispered back with a giggle. “I want to hide you.”

MJ, in his effortless style, wore a grey short-sleeve shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. His understated fashion sense never failed to turn heads.

The room quieted as Mrs. Fiona’s voice rang out: “Now, a round of applause for our beautiful celebrant and her mom!”

My heart swelled as Anisha and Rubina walked in gracefully. It was a breathtaking sight. Anisha glowed in a heather and golden Ankara bou-bou, her turban cap perfectly styled, with a golden veil draped elegantly around her shoulders. Rubina looked like a princess in her cream-colored beaded lace gown, complete with a cascading train. Her hair, straightened to perfection, fell softly on her shoulders, and her pearl rhinestone shoes sparkled with every step.

“Masha Allah, they look so beautiful together,” MJ murmured, leaning against the wall beside me.

“They do,” I replied, my voice catching. “I just wish they were as happy as they look.”

“They will be, Insha Allah. It’s just a matter of time, Beauty,” he said, his gaze steady and reassuring.

The lump in my throat threatened to spill into tears, but I swallowed hard. “Don’t cry, babygirl,” MJ whispered with a soft smile, brushing away the moisture gathering in my eyes.

“We should move closer; we’ll be needed soon,” I suggested, eager to distract myself.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed, picking up our cameras from a nearby table.