The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the bustling scene. Malah, her hair tied in a practical bun, juggled a stack of lunchboxes while keeping a watchful eye on Shahvaiz, who was attempting to shovel a piece of toast into his mouth at record speed.
"Oooo, my baby," Malah chuckled, her voice laced with amusement and concern. "Eat slowly, you'll choke on your food."
Shahvaiz, his cheeks puffed out with a mouthful of toast, nodded vigorously, his eyes wide with panic. "Mom, I'll get late for my first day of school," he squeaked, his voice barely audible. "Teacher will punish me and call you. I don't want to disappoint you, Mom."
Malah smiled, her heart melting at his earnest concern. The little boy who had once clung to her for comfort was now a confident, if slightly clumsy, preschooler.
Saalar, leaning against the kitchen counter, observed the scene with a fond smile. "Shahvaiz, eat slowly," he exclaimed, his voice laced with brotherly exasperation. "Why are you making Mom worried?"
A wave of warmth washed over Malah. Saalar, the once rebellious teenager, had blossomed into a responsible young man, his protective instincts towards his siblings a testament to his growth. The boy who had initially rejected her presence was now her most ardent supporter.
The transformation had been gradual, a delicate dance of shared grief and newfound understanding. They had stumbled, they had fought, but they had also found a way to create a new kind of family, a family built on love, resilience, and the unwavering memory of Amna.
---------------------------------------------
The morning routine continued, a well-oiled machine of rushed breakfasts and last-minute adjustments. As Malah helped Abeha with her backpack, the little girl's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Mom!" she burst out, her voice filled with childish excitement. "Who do you love the most? Me, Saalar, Arsal, or Shahvaiz?"
The question hung in the air, a silent challenge. Malah hesitated, her heart aching with the impossible choice. She loved them all, each one a unique piece of her newfound family.
"Oh, Abeha," she replied, kneeling down to meet her daughter's gaze. "I love you all the same, just like you love each one of your toys."
Abeha pouted, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. "But you have to say one," she insisted, her voice rising in pitch.
Malah chuckled, ruffling Abeha's hair. "Okay, okay, little detective. I love you the mostest, because you're the smallest and the sweetest."
Abeha's face lit up with a triumphant grin. "I knew it!" she declared, throwing her arms around Malah's neck.
Saalar, who had been listening to the conversation with a hint of amusement, cleared his throat. "What about me, Mom? Don't I get any love?"
Malah ruffled his hair playfully. "Of course, you get lots of love, my big boy. You're the protector of the family."
Arsal, ever the drama queen, sighed dramatically. "What about me? The entertainer, the life of the party?"
Malah laughed. "You get the award for the funniest kid ever. Now, let's get you all to school before we're late."
After sending childern to school, malah rushed towards university. there is important test, and she is late.
The university campus buzzed with youthful energy as Malah stepped out of her car. The familiar routine of dropping off the kids, a routine that had once felt overwhelming, now brought a sense of calm. She was juggling multiple roles, but she was finding her footing, her strength growing with each passing day.
As she walked towards the library, her destination for a quiet study session, a familiar voice called out her name. Dawood, a classmate with an undeniable charm, was jogging towards her, a wide grin plastered on his face.
"Hey, Malah!" he greeted, his enthusiasm undiminished by the early morning chill. "How are you?"
Malah smiled politely, trying to hide the wave of exhaustion that threatened to consume her. "I'm fine, thanks. How about you?"
Dawood paused, his smile fading slightly. He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. "Malah, I've been meaning to tell you this for a while. I love you. Would you be my girlfriend?"
The confession hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Malah's heart skipped a beat, taken aback by the suddenness of his declaration. She searched for the right words, her mind racing.
"I'm sorry, Dawood, but I can't," she finally managed to say, her voice soft but firm. "I hope you understand."
Dawood's smile faltered, replaced by a look of hurt. "But why?" he asked, his voice tinged with disappointment.
Malah hesitated, searching for the right words. "I'm not in a place for a relationship right now," she explained, her voice gentle. "I have a lot on my plate, taking care of my children and juggling university. I need to focus on them."
Dawood nodded, his expression a mixture of understanding and disappointment. "I get it," he said, forcing a smile. "But don't close the door completely, okay?"
Malah managed a small smile. "Of course, Dawood," she replied. "Thank you for understanding."
As Dawood walked away, a wave of loneliness washed over Malah. She knew she was making the right decision, but it was a painful one nonetheless. She missed the simple joys of a romantic relationship, the companionship, the shared laughter. But her priorities were clear, her heart fully invested in her children and their well-being. For now, that was enough.