Maya never wanted to attend her sister's engagement party, but her mother is not taking no for an answer.
She had rehearsed all week's deadlines at work, which could result in her demotion since the rumors were flying around her workplace, a migraine, a sudden business trip that cannot be declined, none survived her mother's final words.
You are not missing your sister's engagement party. We have family, and she needs your support. Family and support is not supposed to be together in the same sentence while talking about Kim.
Everyone saw her soft, token, and elegant, but my heart always knew her as cold, competitive, and she was her only opponent. At first, Maya didn't mind her. She had already believed it was a childish rivalry when they were young or maybe time to adjust since her mother just wanted peace in her home, and accepted to love her husband child.
Growing up, her mother asked her to treat her like her own immediate younger sister, no difference, no coldness, just love and acceptance. At a point, everything changed. It was subtle at first, extra praises and patience, then it wasn't anymore. She became the daughter everyone pointed to, the standard and example everyone should attend to.
Along the line, Maya stopped fighting for space in her own home, seeking for her mother's love and comfort, her father's validation and approval. How she hoped to grow up quickly and get her own space where no one would measure her and find her lacking.
Then there was David and Nora. Nora has been part of our world since she was little, a sister Maya had always believed should be exchanged for Kim. Her life with the duo was the only part of her world that felt untouched, the two of them felt safe, familiar.
They met Daniel in their second year in the university when Nora had issues locating her new department. He had helped her locate it. In their first year in school, Maya loved him. It seemed she won every fight just for him being her kite in time of distress.
The little conversations that lasted longer than they should have, study sessions turned into midnight dates, those silent talks that had great meaning just to them.
With him, everything didn't feel competing. At first, it felt simple with him, then safe that she told him about the tension back at home, not everything but enough that led him to make promises on how he was going to make a home for the both of them, how he was going to give peace, love and comfort she yearned for.
For the first time in a long time, Maya believed that she might have something that was now hers.
Daniel had paid a visit to her family house a second time. Her had mother insisted, saying they needed him to come around more often whenever they were on holiday, so every one will get to know each other.
Not knowing that the one that promised her love was now standing hand in hand with another woman, looking everybody in the eyes except her, maybe the guilty conscience or both were just playing dumb.
Everything unfolded in her eyes the morning her mother called her, panicking that Kim was rushed to the hospital since she had been complaining about dizziness and tiredness.
On reaching the said hospital, Maya saw her mother who seem to be panicking.
"Mama"
Maya's voice was low so as not to wake up the sleeping tigress, but it seemed she had been waiting for her, kept open her eyes with a smile plastered on her face.
"Sister," Kim called out while reaching her hand to her, which seemed unusual and uncomfortable for Maya.
Maya heart always knew Kim'l never to be trusted. She stayed where she was without an attempt to acknowledge her greeting.
"Maya," her mother called, gesturing her to reach out to her sister.
"What happened?"
She asked, ignoring her mother's initiation.
Her mother handed her a folded test report without a word. Maya had always found it hard to read a test report, but one thing is that she can perfectly tell what the patient was diagnosed with, or maybe all these years with Daniel had paid off. Maya blinked once again.
"She's pregnant," she asked, confused at the panic. "Is that all?
Her mother stood eagerly, waiting for an outburst or comfort, none still forthcoming. She looked at her as if she didn't understand the gravity of the present situation.
"Your father doesn't know yet," her mother said in a tight whisper, her hands twisted together. Maya noticed immediately, which was not usual whenever something was threatening the family peace.
Maya frowned lightly as she adjusted her skirt, feeling strangely restless.
"He's not going to kill her," Maya said nonchalantly.
On the hospital bed, Kim's eyes filtered toward Maya.
"She's his favorite," Maya continued as she tilted her head slightly.
And that was the first sentence that didn't sit right with them, Kim looked away, and her mother stopped wringing her hands.
A soft knock interrupted the silence. The door opened, and a nurse stepped in with a clipboard, her voice professional. Maya believed she had felt a bit of tension in the room.
Turning to Kim, she said, "We need to run more tests." Kim nodded weakly, and her mother immediately moved close to the bed, maybe to offer support at the moment. Everyone in the room was occupied. Maya felt like an extra in a scene that did not require her presence or help.
Folding the test report gently on the side table, she quietly turned and walked out. Everyone was now familiar with her 'no dramatic exit'.
The hospital corridor felt cooler than the room, at least the air out here felt peaceful. Her heels clicked lightly against the tiles.
She exhaled, trying to push back the thought of her mother not visiting their family doctor other than coming down to the local hospital.
Maybe to avoid of her husband, who made sure that nothing passed under his nostrils. She stepped outside the hospital building and reached for her phone instinctively.
No new message, which was not becoming normal. Her thumb hovered over Daniel's name. Maya hesitated her own message was yet to be replied to. He had been distant lately, maybe busier. Sometimes missed calls returned hours later with a tired apology.
Maya had always believed that becoming a doctor wasn't easy. He was probably exhausted. Maybe she had been overthinking the distance. Her fingers bounced lightly against her keyboard as she typed him a message.
"Final year pressure," he'd said often, complaining about hospital rotations and research, and she understood.
Maybe she believed she had been overthinking the distance. Her finger bounced lightly against her keyboard, and she typed a message:
"Call me when you are free."
Then paused, her thumb hovered over the send button before she slowly deleted the message. If he was stressed; she didn't want to add to it.