I tried to shrink into my seat and be as invisible as possible. If I stayed quiet enough, maybe I would fade into the background and Zainab and her friends would lose interest, but it didn't seem to work. I could feel their eyes on me, sharp and deliberate. Zainab leaned in toward them, laughing softly, her head tilted just enough for them to follow her line of sight. As they glanced at my table and their whispers grew animated, my fingers tightened around my glass.
Then the microphone cackled. Zainab was already on her feet, strutting toward the podium with effortless confidence, heels clicking against the polished floor as though this was her event, her moment. No one had invited her to speak, no one stopped her either.
"Good evening everyone," she said brightly, flashing a smile that made the room warm to her instantly. "It's so nice seeing familiar faces again. Honestly, I don't know how much I missed this until tonight". She spoke easily, comfortably, as she played hostess, thanking people for coming, reminiscing lightly about school days and inside jokes that earned nods and chuckles. She looked right at home behind the microphone, and then there was a shift in her tone.
"Reunions are funny things, aren't they?" she said, eyes scanning the room. "They remind us how life has a sense of humor. Funny how some people sit among princes, thinking they are royalty". She paused, letting her gaze land, ever so slightly, in my direction. My chest tightened due to her direct jab at me. "It is funny how charity can make everyone look equal until life starts separating everyone again. No matter how polished things look on the surface, people always find their way back to who they really are. A pig will always return to the mud".
I stiffened, feeling her eyes on me, the weight of her words like a sharp hand on my shoulder. "And," she continued almost casually, "it's always fascinating when the so-called 'good girls' find their own ways of navigating life. Charming, isn't it, how appearance can be deceiving?".
A hush spread at the table as my chest tightened. Abigail, noticing my tension, held my hand, squeezing it in reassurance. "Ignore her, she is just a bitter bitch," Abigail whispered to me, trying to lighten my mood. "Last I heard, she doesn't have anything doing, just relies on daddy's money and following Ethan around like a love-sick puppy". But it didn't work.
Zainab, satisfied with her speech, descended from the podium, weaving her way back toward Ethan, draping herself on him. I felt my stomach twist. I forced myself to focus on Abigail's easy chatter. Moments later, I saw Ethan approaching, moving past tables with a quiet command that turned heads. He stopped at our table. "Hi Abigail, Lara," he said, exchanging pleasantries with them. When his gaze flickered to me, I quickly looked down, pretending to adjust my bracelet. I felt my pulse hammering; my first instinct was to escape, to vanish from the room. Immediately, I excused myself as I stood and walked away, avoiding his gaze, and made my way to the bathroom.
I stepped into the bathroom and went straight to the sink as I opened the tap and washed my hands. Liking the feel of it, I couldn't splash water on my face because of my makeup, so yeah, this was all I had to ground my nerves. As I washed my hands, the events of what just happened replayed in my head. The party just started and all this had already happened: Zainab, Ethan... I was really considering picking up my bag and just leaving. At least that would save me from all this.
The sound of the bathroom opening broke me out of my reverie. I looked towards the door and—speak of the devil—Zainab strutted inside. The moment she saw me, a smile stretched on her lips as she walked slowly towards me. "Oh look who we have here, Amara," she sneered. Her designer heels clicked against the tiles as she approached, leaning slightly toward me. "I heard you just returned from abroad last month. What, deported?" she said.
I bristled but didn't step back. "I came back," I said, looking my tone neutral, keeping my spine rigid. "Why does that concern you?".
"Oh, feisty aren't we?" she said, tilting her head before letting out a sadistic laughter. "Don't tell me you are here planning to crawl into Ethan's bed, because if you have such plans, it would be best to abort. Ethan he never took you seriously. You were just... fun. A moment's distraction—yet and yet, here you are, thinking you belong at the same table as people like him". She paused, letting the words sink in.
"And you—the so-called good girl?" Zainab whispered, her voice a jagged blade. "Don't think I forgot that little episode. You were just a convenience, Amara. He fucked you in that classroom like a dog and threw you away".
The words hit like a physical blow. My breath hitched; the memory of that day flooded in, for so many years I had locked up that memory, but today it came in full force. The shame, humiliation rushing back in a suffocating wave.
Smiling, seeming satisfied with herself, "A little birdie told me you now dance for survival. Who would have thought the Virgin Mary, our little chapel prefect, would become a... that?". Zainab continued, "By the way, I have a party coming up soon. If you are available to entertain... you know where to find me". And just like that, she walked away with a smug smile on her face, shutting the bathroom door with a bang.
And once I was alone, I dropped to the bathroom floor. Hopelessness, different emotions flooded my chest. I thought I was over it; it has been years, but the memory was still so fresh. As streams of tears fell down my cheeks, I felt suffocated, my chest felt tight, it was getting hard to breathe. Sadness, hopelessness, anger all came at once as I sat on the bathroom floor crying like a baby.
It took several minutes before I could stop the waterworks. I looked into the mirror and all I saw was a dejected woman; my makeup was ruined. So I just simply took out my wipes and cleaned my makeup totally. When I was done, I sent a quick message to Abigail that I was going home, before making my way to the parking lot where the cab I ordered was to arrive in 5 minutes. I needed to get out of here; it was a terrible idea coming here in the first place. What was I thinking?.
I took a shaky breath as I waited for the cab, fidgeting with the strap of my bag, wishing I could disappear. The thought of the night's chaos, of Zainab's laughter, still replayed in my head. Then I noticed a shadow stretching across the parking lot. At first, I thought it was just someone leaving, maybe a staff member, until the figure moved closer. My pulse skipped a beat as the silhouette sharpened, filling the space before me with a sense of inevitability. It was him.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. The streetlights caught his profile and my stomach dropped. He was making his way towards me, his strides calm. Five meters... three meters... his presence was towering, almost oppressive, and I realized he wasn't going to let me slip away this time. Our eyes met, and in that instant the world narrowed to nothing but him. A quiet dread settled in my chest, heavier than anything I had felt all night. I wasn't sure I was ready for this confrontation.
"Amara," he said in a low and deliberate tone.