A walk on thorns

Chapter 46|Hi Barbie!

Sabrina's POV

I can't wait for the day when the school finally grants me a space in the hostel. On that day, I will unapologetically pack my things and leave Anisha's house without so much as a word of notice. It will be a silent departure, but one born out of necessity and self-preservation.

MJ offered me an apartment, a house, really. Three spacious rooms, a grand parlor, and a fully equipped kitchen. Everything inside screamed luxury, comfort, and care. The kind of place anyone would dream of. But I knew, deep down, that I couldn't accept it. Not because I doubted his intentions, but because I couldn't justify it. Islamically, it felt wrong. Staying alone in a place none of my family knew about would invite unnecessary questions, and, inevitably, unnecessary visits from MJ. It's a line I can't cross. Not now. Not ever. How could I? Where's the wisdom in accepting such a grand gesture from someone I barely know? These thoughts alone kept me tethered to Anisha's house, even when every fiber of my being longed to leave.

Patience is hard. It's a battle fought silently, with clenched teeth and a steady heart. But patience also brings peace, unless, of course, you let yourself become a scapegoat. That's how I felt today. A scapegoat. Anisha's words had rained down on me, but instead of cooling the heat, they only pressed the sand beneath my feet, making it burn hotter.

Still, I wouldn't crumble. Even though I'm made of sand, I have sense. I have resilience. Yes, guys aren't to be trusted easily, but MJ is different. He's kind. Genuinely kind. Even if he ever proves otherwise, I'm not blind. I know the difference between right and wrong, and I wouldn't allow myself to fall into a trap. But Anisha's outburst today? It was senseless. How could she speak so harshly to someone who only wanted to make her daughter happy? No matter how much MJ and I love Rubina, we could never love her as her mother does. We were just trying to do what's right.

And I'm holding onto this nonsense because I understand her pain. I recognize it. But I won't let it drag me down. I've tied my belt tighter, ready to endure whatever she throws my way, for Rubina's sake and for the sake of my peace.

Rubina's cakes will arrive tomorrow at the event center. But today, I ordered another one. A smaller, more intimate cake for a celebration at home. Rubina will return at one o'clock, and I want to do something special for the maids, especially Sarah. They've been Rubina's real mothers, the unsung heroes. Without them, who knows how Rubina's life would have turned out? They deserve recognition. Appreciation. They've given their hearts to a role they never signed up for, and they did it wholeheartedly.

Today being Friday, I followed my usual routine. I called Baba before Juma'ah prayers, as always. He's recovering from a week of battling malaria, Alhamdulillah, he's doing better now. Mama, as expected, is off with Aunt Saudah, flitting from one wedding to another.

I asked Sarah to prepare dinner early. We needed this celebration. When Rubina came home, I dressed her up and took her downstairs to the mini parlor, where everything was set. It was a small gathering but warm and heartfelt. And truth be told, Rubina was freer, happier, and more radiant with them. She felt safe, loved. And they deserve that joy, too.

The way they laughed, the way they popped the champagne, it stayed with me. These girls, often overlooked, were just as tied down as I was. But today, I saw them in a new light. Their laughter, their silly jokes, it was contagious. For the first time in a long time, the house felt alive.

I captured it all. Their real moments of joy, unguarded and pure. We cut the cake together, shared it, took selfies, danced, and made heartfelt wishes for each other.

In that moment, the burdens didn't seem so heavy. For once, everything felt right. Even if just for tonight.

My chubby Barbie!