Eclipsed Echo

CHAPTER SIX

     
                   
 SYHA

"Down to earth, Aafi. You've practically brought your whole wardrobe here."

      Aafia couldn't take me to the rooftop right away because she noticed I wasn't following the dress code. The theme of her party was black, and everyone had to wear something in that color. Meanwhile, I was in a casual jumpsuit with my white tennis shoes, the same ones I'd been wearing since I checked out from my hotel this morning. That's when I realized why a bunch of people dressed in black were hanging around the lobby.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me into her walk-in closet to find something more suitable.

"Like I told you, we come here for holidays sometimes, so I always pack extra clothes," she explains, almost defensively. "And luckily, I brought a few black dresses just in case. You never know when someone might have a wardrobe emergency, right? Since it's my party, I figured it's my job to make sure everyone's taken care of." She gives me a small, sheepish smile, as if bracing for judgment.

     A smile tugs at my lips. That's Aafia for you—always thinking ahead, always looking out for others. She's as thoughtful as ever, even in the little things. I don't know anyone else as wealthy as her who'd go to such lengths for others. It fits her perfectly—her name means kindness, after all. And knowing her, she'd probably be heartbroken if I refused to wear one of her dresses.

     So I glance around, marveling at how organized everything is. A couple of nightgowns hang neatly on one side, alongside a row of shoes, their pristine condition suggesting they've hardly ever been worn. But what truly catches my attention are those seven black dresses hanging on the main rack, each one distinct yet equally stunning. The fabrics shimmer under the soft lighting, ranging from delicate lace to sleek satin, each dress exuding its own elegance.

"Choose which one you like the most," she says, checking her phone again.

"These are all so beautiful." I say, running my fingers across the fabrics. "I'm amazed you brought so many options."

     Aafia looks up from her phone, a playful smile on her lips. She steps closer, peering at the dresses with me as I run my fingers on each of the dresses.

 "So, how was life abroad? When did you finish your studies?"

"It was okay," I pause. "Was just trying my best to go with the flow to survive." 

It was never my home, never felt like a comforting place. Every day, every month, every year, no matter how many people I met, nobody could give me the warmth I felt while living here. I was at fault, too. I gave up on life so easily, focusing solely on my studies and lacking the energy to welcome new people into my life.
I glance at Aafia and attempt a smile. "And, yeah, I graduated a few months ago. That's why I could come back."

She catches my unease. "Well, I'm so glad you're here now."

Her phone beeped again, interrupting our conversation. She checked it and then shifted her gaze back to me.

"Take your time and come to the rooftop when you're ready, okay? I'll be waiting for you," she says before leaving me alone in the huge wardrobe.

     After Aafia left, my focus shifted back to the dresses. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was wandering in Barbie's wardrobe. I walked toward the dresses, running my fingers over each one, trying my best to choose.  

Aafia has a model-like figure, and I'm sure all these dresses are custom-made for her. There's no way any of them will fit me.

    After a lot of sorting, I finally picked one that is kind of similar to the one Aafia is wearing right now. Slipping it on, I went near the mirror, examining the way the fabric draped over my body. The gown falls just to my ankles, making it easy to walk. I twirled a bit, watching the dress flow gracefully with my movements. It felt elegant and flattering, making me feel both stylish and confident.

    I think I should be worried about how tightly it hugs me around the waist. The sleeves, featuring intricate lace motifs that contrast strikingly with the black fabric, make it even more worthy of trying out. I lingered for a long while, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. The gown looks too good on me, making me feel like the protagonist of one of those countless books I've read.

 I blame Aafia for making me feel like this.