Chapter 6
1286 Words
Sarwa’s POV
Zeyan didn’t come with me.
I asked the front desk about my mom’s reservation. Since the restaurant was owned by my mother, the staff immediately assisted me. The moment I stepped into the private room, I knew—I was early.
Or maybe… they were just late again.
A staff member pulled out a chair for me.
“Young miss, I’ll notify Madam and Mr. Mercer about your arrival and prepare the order,” he said gently.
I nodded, forcing a small smile.
Time passed.
It always did.
And I always waited.
I had learned how to wait without asking questions, without expecting too much. Because expecting only made it hurt more. I was never their priority.
I probably never would be.
Two hours passed.
No message. No explanation. Not even a single word.
Just me… sitting there, hoping—pathetically—that maybe this time would be different.
The door opened again.
“Young miss, should we notify Madam again?” the staff asked hesitantly, as if he already knew the answer.
“No need,” I said softly. “They know. They’ll come when they’re finished. You may go. I’ll just call if I need anything.”
I smiled at him, pretending I was fine.
I always pretended.
When the door closed, the silence became unbearable.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to leave.
I wanted to stop hoping.
But I couldn’t.
Because some part of me—no matter how small, how broken—still believed they would come… and this would finally feel like a family dinner.
I kept telling myself they were just busy.
That whatever they were doing must be important.
Important enough to forget me.
I glanced at my watch.
Three minutes before midnight.
So close.
So close to the end of the day that was supposed to matter.
The door suddenly opened.
Dad and Zain walked in.
My heart leaped. I stood up quickly, ready to greet them—ready to finally feel seen.
But they walked past me.
Like I wasn’t there.
“Did they already go home?” Dad asked, referring to Mom and Farra.
I froze for a second before answering, “They haven’t arrived yet.”
They sat across from me and immediately began discussing business.
Numbers. Deals. Plans.
Their voices filled the room—but none of it was for me.
I sat there, quietly watching them.
Listening to them talks so easily… so naturally.
And I wondered—
Will there ever be a day when they talk to me like that?
Even just about business.
Even just for a moment.
I don’t need affection.
I don’t need warmth.
Just… acknowledgement.
Just to feel like I exist to them.
I swallowed hard, forcing the ache down.
A little later, Mom and Farra arrived.
I stood up again—still hoping, still trying.
But they didn’t even look at me.
They just sat down.
“Let’s hurry. We still have a flight to catch,” Mom said, already signaling the waiter.
No greeting.
No “sorry for being late.”
No “happy birthday.”
Nothing.
Just like that.
Hours of waiting… for nothing.
I smiled.
But it hurt.
It hurt so much I thought my chest would break open.
Dinner was silent.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that suffocates you.
The kind that reminds you—you don’t belong here.
We looked like a family.
But we weren’t one.
When it ended, they left in pairs.
No one asked me to come along.
No one even noticed I stayed behind.
I was… forgotten.
Again.
The moment I stepped outside, the rain poured heavily, soaking me in seconds.
And just like that—
I broke.
“For what was the dinner even about?” my voice cracked. “Don’t I deserve a present? An explanation? Or even just a greeting?”
My chest tightened as the words spilled uncontrollably.
“Why invite me if they didn’t even want me there? Do they even know it’s my birthday… or was I just part of the schedule?”
Tears blurred everything.
“Why bring me into this world just to feel like this? Like I’m unwanted… like I don’t matter?”
My hands trembled.
“Why can’t they even look at me? Is saying ‘happy birthday’ really that hard? Is pretending to care too much to ask?”
My voice dropped to a whisper.
“Did I do something wrong…?”
“Why am I so easy to ignore?”
“Why… am I so hard to love?”
I cried until my voice disappeared.
Until even breathing hurts.
My phone rang.
Zeyan.
“Where are you? Want me to pick you up? It’s raining heavily outside—”
“Ze…” I choked, unable to stop sobbing.
“Ze…”
“Hey—hey, what’s wrong?” His voice shifted instantly, sharp with panic. “Where are you? I’m coming.”
“At the restaurant…”
“Wait for me.”
The call ended.
A few minutes later, he was there.
He rushed toward me without hesitation, his expression tightening the moment he saw my face.
“You’re soaked,” he said, quickly helping me into the car. “Here—wear this.”
He handed me his jacket, careful, gentle.
“Don’t worry. I won’t look. I’m driving.”
That was all it took.
The care.
The attention.
The small things no one else ever gave me.
“Ze…” My voice trembled again. “Why don’t they love me?”
He went silent.
“Do they hate me?” I whispered. “Am I… that hard to love?”
He immediately pulled the car over.
“No,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t say that. That’s not true.”
I broke down against him.
“They love you,” he continued softly, holding me tighter. “They’re just… bad at showing it. But that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable.”
“Then why does it feel like I don’t exist to them?” I cried. “Why do I feel invisible every time I’m with them?”
He gently cupped my face.
“Hey… look at me,” he said. “You’re not invisible. Not to me.”
His thumb wiped my tears.
“You deserve everything good in this world. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”
My chest ached—but this time, it wasn’t just pain.
It was something warmer.
“Let’s go home,” he said softly. “I prepared something for you.”
I blinked. “Really?”
He nodded. “So don’t cry anymore, okay?”
I gave a small, fragile smile.
Of all the people I thought would care…
It was him.
The one I never expected.
The heaviness didn’t disappear.
But it softened.
And for the first time that night—
I didn’t feel completely alone.
When we arrived home, he rushed inside, pulling me along.
I barely had time to react when—
Confetti burst above me.
“Happy birthday,” he said, smiling.
Not rushed.
Not distracted.
Not forced.
Just… real.
“Make a wish.”
My hands trembled as I looked at the cake.
At him.
At this moment.
I closed my eyes.
And for once… I wished for something simple.
To be loved.
I blew out the candle.
And when I opened my eyes—
I was smiling.
“Did you make this?” I asked softly.
“Of course,” he said with a grin. “Only the best for you.”
And somehow…
The pain didn’t disappear.
But it didn’t consume me anymore.
Because for once—
Someone chose me.
- Writer
