CHAPTER 14: REGRETS AND CONFUSION.

MAYA.

Before long, Hossein's car came into view, a welcome sight as Maya shivered in the early morning chill. Late November in Nigeria marked the beginning of the dry season, and the air was already crisp with a hint of coolness. Maya was grateful to escape the chilly morning air, clad only in the casual clothes she'd worn the previous day. She had always detested cold weather, and her friends and family knew that hoodies were her staple, regardless of the weather. Even Mrs. D, couldn't change her love for hoodies.

As she settled into the car seat, Maya's thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous night, and she let out a groan, burying her face in her hands. The memory of Mrs. D's panicked expression flashed through her mind, and Maya shrank deeper into the seat, feeling a wave of frustration wash over her.

The silence in the car was a welcome respite as Hossein drove them home, the only sound of the soft hum of the engine. Maya was grateful for his thoughtful discretion in not turning on the radio, allowing her to wallow in her thoughts. Her brain felt foggy, a familiar consequence of drinking too much. She cursed her lack of recall, unable to remember the events of the previous night, especially those involving Andrew.

A pang of frustration shot through her. Why did it have to be Andrew who found her? Why couldn't it have been Hossein, someone she trusted implicitly? She would have been content to let the memories of the previous night fade away, especially given the drama that had unfolded with her father's arrival.

But no, Andrew had to appear, ruining her plans and leaving her with a tangled web of emotions. Maya's mind is seethed with resentment.

Fucking Andrew! Why did he always seem to be at the center of her chaos?

From the moment Andrew burst into her life, he had been a constant, maddening presence. Whether her day was going smoothly or spiraling out of control, Andrew always seemed to be at the epicenter, wreaking havoc and disrupting her equilibrium. He had a knack for inserting himself into her life without warning or invitation, and Maya had grown accustomed to brushing him off, recognizing that his meddling was just a part of his nature. But this time, something was different.

The events of the previous night had crossed a threshold, venturing into uncharted territory. The intimacy they had shared was a game-changer, leaving Maya feeling bewildered and disoriented. Her mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions, and she couldn't seem to untangle the threads. Argh! I'm so freaking confused about everything!

Maya's mind was reeling, her thoughts a jumbled mess that threatened to overwhelm her.

"What are you going to do now?" Hossein asked, breaking the silence.

Maya's gaze drifted toward him, her expression blank. "Huh?" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"About your father," Hossein clarified, his eyes locked on hers with concern.

Maya let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her worries bearing down on her. "Honestly, I don't know," she admitted, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

Hossein offered a gentle, reassuring smile as he kept driving, his voice soft and soothing. "That's okay, take your time." His kindness and empathy were a balm to Maya's frazzled nerves.

This was Hossein's nature - kind, caring, and thoughtful to a fault. Maya knew he was curious about the events of the previous night, about where she had run off to and where she had spent the night. Perhaps he had already gleaned some details from Andrew, but his primary concern was her well-being, and he showed it by giving her space and time to process her emotions.

Hossein's approach was a refreshing departure from the usual inquiries that followed a dramatic event. There were no accusatory "Why did you run off?" or "Why didn't you call me?" questions that often made the situation about the other person's feelings rather than offering genuine support. Maya had always found it frustrating how people tended to make others' misfortunes about themselves, rather than simply being present in a meaningful way.

Why should I care about your feelings when my world is crumbling? Maya thought to herself. In moments of chaos, the last thing on one's mind was updating others on their whereabouts. The priority was making sense of the turmoil, not soothing someone else's concerns. Maya's thoughts drifted back to her childhood, to the pain of losing her mother. Though she had been young, she had understood the permanence of death, and that knowledge had been devastating. The ache in her little heart had been overwhelming, a grief that still lingered.

The funeral had been a blur of awkward condolences and well-intentioned but hollow words. Many of the mourners seemed to be navigating uncharted territory, unsure of how to comfort a grieving child. They fumbled over their words, trying to find the right phrases to soothe a heartbroken little girl. Some attempted to sugarcoat the harsh reality, spinning tales of her mother's spirit ascending to the stars, where she could be reached through whispered conversations. But Maya knew better. She recognized the emptiness of those words, the desperation to provide comfort in the face of unimaginable loss.

The pain of her mother's passing still lingered, a raw wound that refused to heal. Maya remembered the hospital, the antiseptic smell, and the beeping machines that had surrounded her mother's frail form. She recalled the desperation in her own voice as she called out to her mother, begging her to come back, to open her eyes just one more time. But it was too late. Her mother was gone, lost to the void, leaving Maya with a chasm of grief that seemed impossible to fill.

The question of how she was holding up was almost laughable. (Scoffs) How could anyone expect her to be holding up when her world had been shattered into a million pieces?

Their condescending offers of snacks and baby-talk only served to infuriate me. Did they really think I was that naive? I was five years old, not a helpless infant. Their patronizing tone was a stark reminder that I was now a child without a mother, a vulnerable and frightening reality.

The memory of a classmate who had lost both parents in a tragic accident flashed through my mind. I recalled the day the social workers came to our daycare, their somber faces and clipboards a harbinger of the uncertain fate that awaited him. As they led him away, our teacher instructed us to bid him farewell, and the other kids whispered that he would never see his family again and that he would be sent to live with strangers. Those words had struck fear deep within my heart, and now, as I stood amidst the mourners, I couldn't shake the terrifying thought: what would happen to me now? Would I be sent away like that boy, forced to live with people I didn't know? Would anyone come to claim me, or was I truly alone in the world?

Why did no one pose the questions that truly mattered at the funeral? Why did they avoid asking about the gaping hole that had been left in my life, about how I would navigate the treacherous landscape of growing up without a mother's guidance? Why did they not ask if I missed the warmth of her hugs, the comforting sound of her voice, or the reassuring presence that had once been my rock?

Instead of pitying me with their sorrowful glances and empty condolences, I yearned for someone to acknowledge the depth of my loss. I recall wishing that my father would magically appear, sweep me into his arms, and whisk me away from the anguish that surrounded me. At that moment, I would have given anything to be reunited with him, to feel the security of his presence. But life had other plans. The harsh truth that he had abandoned my mother and me for a new family was a revelation that would come later, leaving an indelible scar on my heart.

"Hello...earth to Maya!" Hossein's gentle tease broke the silence, and Maya's gaze drifted back to him, her expression slightly dazed.

"Huh? Did you say something?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of confusion.

"Yeah, I did," Hossein replied, his soft chuckle warm and comforting. Maya's sheepish apology followed.

"Sorry, I'm a little out of it, as you can already tell." Hossein's understanding smile put her at ease.

"It's fine. I just wanted to let you know we're home," he said, his gesture toward the apartment building a gentle reminder of their arrival.

Maya's gaze followed his pointing hand, and she spotted the familiar flower plants surrounding her building. A soft "Oh!" escaped her lips as recognition dawned.

"Thanks for picking me up, Hossein. I really appreciate it," she said sincerely, her gratitude heartfelt. Hossein waved his hand dismissively, his kind eyes crinkling at the corner.

"Maybe next time we'd be going for coffee or early morning drive, I don't mind" Hossein's teasing tone was infectious, and Maya couldn't help but laugh out loud as he spoke. His words had a soothing effect, and she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, smiling, as she nodded in agreement.

With a final nod, Hossein urged her to go inside, and Maya walked away, turning back to return a little wave as she disappeared into the building. She had barely stepped into the foyer when her phone rang, shrill and insistent. She picked up Sasha's call, and a deafening blast of sound nearly shattered her eardrums.

"Maya Fucking Jones! What the actual hell?"

Sasha's voice was a cacophonous mixture of shock, anger, and incredulity. Maya yelped, ripping the phone away from her ear as if it had scorched her. At this rate, she might indeed lose her hearing.