Bewitched

27

MUMTAZ

I was losing my mind. Truly. My sanity had slowly started to slip, and it all began with one stupid Instagram account.

This girl. This girl who somehow managed to get Muntassir, of all people, to parade around with her like they were some perfect, happy couple. And her feed was filled with pictures of them together—him smiling, laughing, looking so carefree. In his car, at restaurants, on walks... God, I hated it.

Months of pictures. Months of stalking, if I was honest with myself. It hadn't been difficult finding her profile. All I had to do was scroll through the people Muntassir's sister followed, and there she was. Like a slap in the face. Every day, I checked her page to see if she had posted something new with him. And every day, I felt my heart sink a little more.

He seemed to be thriving, living his best life. That bright, energetic smile in every photo was unmistakable. He'd moved on, and it grated on me in ways I couldn't explain. Wasn't he obsessed with me? Wasn't he the one who wanted to marry me? We were so close to tying the knot. And now? He's out there with someone else, laughing, frolicking around town like we never happened.

I threw my head back in my seat, frustration boiling under my skin. Why did it bother me so much? I had done this. I called off the engagement. I'm the one who created this mess. So why was I sitting here, stewing in jealousy?

"Mumtaz?"

I blinked, looking up to see Sasha and Piper standing over me. Sasha dropped a piece of paper onto my desk, and Piper folded her arms, staring down at me with a knowing look.

"What's this?" I asked, picking up the paper. I could feel them watching me closely.

"Take a look," Sasha said, crossing her arms. "We think you'll be interested."

I scanned the document, and the words blurred for a second before something jumped out at me: Remote work opportunity. Office presence required during fashion week.

Sasha placed her hands on my shoulders, squeezing lightly. "You should apply."

"What? Why?" I asked, staring at the paper but not really reading it anymore.

Piper leaned in, her expression gentle but firm. "Because you're clearly miserable and angry here. And if you get this, you can work from home, in Nigeria."

They were ganging up on me. I could feel it. I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not miserable," I shot back, though my voice lacked conviction. "And I'm not angry either."

Sasha gave me a pointed look. "Then why are you always lurking around that girl's Instagram and making angry faces?"

I felt a flush creep up my neck. "I'm not lurking. I just don't like her feed, okay?"

Piper snorted. "Oh yeah? And that has nothing to do with the fact that she keeps posting with your man?"

I rolled my eyes, but Sasha cut in before I could respond. "He's not your man, Mumtaz. He's the man you left. Big difference."

I clenched my jaw. I didn't want to have this conversation with them. Not now. Not when I was feeling like I was about to unravel. "I'm not looking at her feed because of Muntassir," I lied, knowing full well they could see right through me.

"Mumtaz," Piper said, sitting down beside me, "we've been friends for years. We know you. And we know that you still care about him."

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the paper in my hand. Of course, I cared about him. That much was obvious, even if I didn't want to admit it. But what did it matter now? He had clearly moved on, and I... I was stuck.