Unbroken bonds

6: First Impressions

Inaya adjusted her hijab, tugging it lightly to make sure it stayed in place. She'd chosen a soft blue one today that matched the floral-patterned ankara gown she wore, giving her a calmness she hoped would settle her nerves. Her heart raced as she hurried to work, feeling the weight of being late on her first day. The tricycle hadn't come in time, and she'd lingered a bit too long with Halima, worrying if her daughter would be alright in her absence.

As she stepped into the grand mansion, the cool, luxurious interior felt overwhelming. Every corner seemed to shine with wealth, reminding her of just how far from her modest life this world was. Just as she turned a corner, Usman, her boss's assistant, appeared, his expression set in disapproval.

"Late on your first day," he remarked, his tone clipped. "I expected better from someone starting fresh."

Inaya's hands gripped her small bag tighter, and she kept her gaze low, feeling a flush of shame. "I'm sorry... I couldn't find a tricycle in time, and I had to make sure my daughter was settled." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze.

Usman eyed her bag, clearly unimpressed. "And where are your things? You were supposed to move into the staff quarters today. Are you planning on making excuses from day one?"

Inaya's cheeks warmed. "I'll bring everything tomorrow," she said quickly, her voice laced with regret. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Usman sighed, his gaze lingering on her for another moment. "Fine," he said, though his tone held a hint of warning. "Don't let it happen again."

She nodded, murmuring a quiet "Thank you," and hurried toward the kitchen, exhaling deeply as she put some distance between them. The shame and tension still clung to her as she took in her new workspace. The kitchen was spotless, stocked with everything she'd need. Her task was simple today—prepare breakfast for her employer.

According to the notes left on the counter, he didn't eat much in the morning. Often just fruits, sometimes a drink. She frowned slightly, finding it odd for someone living in such luxury to have such a light breakfast.

"Just fruits?" she muttered to herself, setting out to toast some bread, slice an avocado, and brew a light tea. What kind of man eats like that in the morning? she wondered, but shrugged it off. By 8:30, she had arranged everything on the dining table, making sure it looked presentable. Her eyes wandered as she began to clean up the living room, noting the expensive furniture, the polished shelves, the feeling of wealth that filled every inch of the room.

Her thoughts were interrupted by quiet footsteps. Turning, she froze as she met the gaze of a tall man, his caramel skin and deep, dark eyes catching her off guard. His hair looked soft, his build strong yet not overly muscular. He was undeniably handsome, but his expression gave nothing away—neither a smile nor a frown, just an intense look that made her heart quicken. His eyes swept over her from head to toe before settling back on her face, as if appraising every inch of her.

Inaya lowered her gaze, her hands tightening around the duster. She waited, her pulse racing, unsure what he would say, wasn't she supposed to greet him or say something? She thought to herself.

"Are you the maid?" His tone was controlled, almost detached, with a hint of curiosity, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

Her cheeks warmed as she glanced up, meeting his gaze. "Yes, sir," she replied, steadying her voice. "I'm the maid."

He paused, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than she expected. She's the maid? he thought, noting her youthful appearance. He was told she had a child, She looked too young to have an eleven-year-old child. Was there some mistake?

Silence settled between them, thick and tense. He seemed about to ask more questions but hesitated, as though it wasn't worth his time. His gaze shifted to a glass shelf where a miniature Mercedes Benz toy car sat, polished and elegant.

"Be careful with that," he said, his voice cooling further. "It means a lot to me." Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, a mix of relief and lingering tension settling in her chest.

Inaya sighed, glancing back at the toy car he'd mentioned. Handsome, yes, she admitted to herself, but something about his cold, distant manner left her feeling unsettled. She shook her head, returning to her work, though her thoughts wandered back to that brief exchange.

Later that day, she returned to Maman Jamila's home, where the familiarity brought her a sense of peace. The cozy, simple space was a stark contrast to the mansion. She shared bits of her day, trying to make light of the intimidating new job and her initial run-in with her employer.

Maman Jamila listened intently, amusement flickering in her eyes. "So you finally saw him?" she asked, pouring tea for them both.

Inaya nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yes, Maman Jamila. The house is incredible, but he..." She shook her head, mimicking Usman's serious tone. "'I expected better,' he said."

Maman Jamila chuckled warmly, patting Inaya's hand. "Ah, my dear, you'll be fine. Men like that—serious, distant—they're all the same. Just stay focused on your work, and they'll respect you for it."

Inaya nodded, feeling comforted by her words. She glanced around the room, a bittersweet feeling settling over her. Soon, she would have to leave here, and the thought tugged at her heart.

Maman Jamila noticed the shift in her expression, her voice softening. "You'll miss it here, won't you?"

Inaya nodded, glancing down at her cup. "Yes... It's been home, and I'll miss it. But I'll come back often, I promise."

Maman Jamila smiled warmly. "We'll keep your chair and bed in the storeroom. The staff quarters have everything, so just pack what you need."

Inaya smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude for Maman Jamila's support. She knew this change would be challenging, but as she glanced over at her daughter, playing happily in the corner, she felt a renewed determination to make this work.