UNENDING

8- Bid

-ASIYA-

The grand ballroom chandeliers cast a shimmering light on the sea of elegantly dressed guests, making the room sparkle like a fairy tale. It was my first formal event with Al-Qasim since our marriage over a year ago, and I couldn't help but feel like an imposter. The weight of the costly jewellery adorning my neck and wrists only seemed to emphasize my insecurities. I didn't get to wear the ruby necklace, but Al-Qasim didn't ask any questions.

I could barely recognize the girl in the mirror, swathed in a designer gown that whispered opulence with every step I took. On the other hand, Al-Qasim looked every bit the part of a man who had grown up amidst wealth and privilege. His confident demeanour and effortless charm drew people to him like moths to a flame. Watching him easily navigate the crowd only made me more acutely aware of how out of place I felt.

As business associates and acquaintances hounded him, I slipped away, my eyes searching for a familiar face amidst the throng of strangers. Spotting my mother-in-law, I approached, hoping her presence would provide some comfort. Our conversation was brief but cordial, her eyes assessing me with the same scrutiny I felt from everyone else. It wasn't long before I excused myself, the need to find a moment of solitude overwhelming.

I headed towards the bathroom, desperate for a few minutes away from the overwhelming glitz and glamour. But as I navigated through the crowd, a group of women intercepted me. At the centre was Safa, her eyes burning with an intensity that made my heart race. Her friends flanked her, their expressions of pure disdain.

"You told him it was me, didn't you?" Safa's voice was sharp, accusing. The memory of the incident she referred to was still fresh in my mind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I managed to say, though my voice wavered.

"Don't play dumb, Asiya. You're trying to ruin Safa in Qasim's eyes," one of her friends sneered.

Another chimed in, "Your marriage is a mistake. We'll make sure it ends, and Safa will have him. She's the one who truly belongs with him."

The words stung, each one like a dagger, to my already crumbling confidence. I felt cornered, outnumbered, and powerless. But before I could fully succumb to the panic rising within me, a new voice cut through the tension.

"That's enough, Safa." A girl stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. "Leave her alone."

Safa's eyes flashed with irritation, but she didn't argue. The girl turned to me with a reassuring smile. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

She gently took my arm and led me away from the hostile group. I was still on guard, unsure of this unexpected ally. As we walked, she introduced herself, her tone friendly and genuine." I'm Labiba."

"Asiya," I replied.

Labiba continued talking, sharing bits about herself and asking me questions. Her warmth was disarming, and I gradually relaxed in her company. She safely escorted me to the bathroom, waiting patiently as I composed myself. When I emerged, she was still there, a reassuring presence in the midst of chaos.

"Ready to go back?" she asked with a gentle smile.

I nodded, grateful for her kindness. We returned to the ballroom together, and she guided me to my seat. As I settled down, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Despite the cruelty I had faced, there were still people like Labiba who saw me for who I was, not for what I lacked.

She was about to say something, but two men cut her off. I looked at the identical men as they both locked arms with her. She smiled at them and then looked back at me. "My friends, Owais and Junaid," she says.