Kismet [ENGLOT]

Chapter 16

Engfa's POV:

The day of the performance had finally arrived. After weeks of tireless preparation, it was time to step onto that stage. I stretched in bed, trying to calm my nerves, and reached for my phone, hoping—against all logic—that there might be a message from the one person who had been occupying my thoughts for weeks. But as I scrolled through, Charlotte's name was noticeably absent. My heart sank, but I shook off the feeling and focused on the sea of other messages pouring in.

Jeff had sent a quick reminder:

*Jeff*: "Fa, are you ready for tonight? Don't forget, call time is 4 PM. We need a meeting before the play."

I sighed, noting the seriousness in his words, but I was grateful for his diligence. Then, predictably, there was Heidi, as brash as ever:

*Heidi*: "Rise and shine, sleepyhead! Can't wait to see you mess up tonight! Good luck!"

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. Typical Heidi, always delivering her form of "encouragement" wrapped in playful jabs. I scrolled further until one message in particular caught my attention—it was Nessa, always the thoughtful one.

*Nessa*: "P'Fa, are you up? Wanna grab breakfast to start your big day?"

Her message made me grin, a warm contrast to Heidi's teasing. Nessa might be unserious on the outside, but I knew her kindness ran deep.

*Engfa*: "I'm up for that. See you in 30 at the usual spot," I quickly replied.

I set my phone down, a mix of excitement and disappointment fluttering in my chest. I had hoped—stupidly, perhaps—that Charlotte might've sent something, even if it was just a quick "good luck." But the silence from her end was louder than any message could have been.

Then, another notification popped up—a text from my dad. My stomach clenched as I opened it.

*Dr. Edward Waraha*: "Good morning, Engfa. I heard from your mom that you're performing in the school play tonight. I've already secured a ticket. Good luck, honey. Break a leg. See you tonight..."

A quiet tension settled over me as I read his words. My father hadn't been around much since the divorce; his focus had shifted almost entirely to his work and his new family. I didn't expect him to reach out, much less attend the performance. Part of me resented the formality in his words, as if I were just another task on his never-ending checklist. Did he even care about the person I'd become since we drifted apart?

It wasn't that I craved his attention anymore. In fact, I had spent years learning to live without it, hardening myself to his absence. But the idea of him sitting in the audience stirred up old, buried feelings, a mess of resentment and longing I thought I'd gotten past. If not for my mother, I would've wanted nothing to do with him at all.

I shook my head, forcing my mind back to the day ahead. The message from him didn't change anything. Today was about the performance, about giving my all on that stage. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, mentally steeling myself. No distractions, not even this.

Just as I grabbed my keys to head out and meet Nessa, my mother's voice rang through the hall, halting me in my tracks.

"Good morning, Miss Engfa Waraha! And just where do you think you're going without so much as a 'Hi' or 'Good morning' for your mother?" she called out, feigning disappointment. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, her playful smile brightening the morning.

I chuckled, slipping my phone into my pocket and heading over to her. "Good morning, Mom," I said, pulling her into a hug. "I thought you'd already be off at the tennis club with your friends or something."