I just wish we could all live our lives in peace, without these expectations that seem to dictate our every breath.

When everything went down with Nabila, I reached out over Instagram almost immediately afterward. She told me not to worry and that she’d moved in with her best friend. From her posts on her private social media accounts, she seems almost happier nowadays. But I don’t know if I can rely on social media for the whole truth. She’s definitely safer, but I can only hope she’s happier.

I don’t know if I would be.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

I wish everything didn’t have to be so... I wish a lot of things. I know my parents aren’t bad people, and I know they want the best for me, but I’m almost certain their definition of best isn’t the same as mine.

My dad leans too much into my mother. I think it’s easier for him that way. But it certainly isn’t easy for me—I have to bear the consequences of having two parents who look down on me whenever I take one wrong step.

It’s hard, because I know they love me somewhere deep down. I know they’re not acting maliciously. And yet it doesn’t change the fact that their beliefs don’t always align with my own. It doesn’t change the fact that I have to often sit here and pretend to be someone I’m not. I wish they were more like Dadu or my other relatives, who accept and support their kids no matter what. I know it doesn’t have to be like this, so why is it?

I glance across the restaurant to where Sana is sitting on a fake throne, smiling brightly as an auntie talks to her. I wonder if she regrets what she did to Nabila. I can’t imagine living with that weight.

Maybe it’s not even a weight to her. Maybe she genuinely thinks she did the right thing.

That’s somehow even more horrifying.

“We got her a gift card in the end. What did you get Sana?” Fatima asks, poking my arm, bringing me back to the conversation.

I shrug, trying to push away any remaining dark thoughts. “Dadu and I picked out some perfume. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“That’s a safe present,” Fatima says. “Where is Dadu anyway?”

I glance around and catch Samir’s gaze briefly as he goofs around with some of our cousins. He wiggles his brows, and I roll my eyes, ignoring him in favor of seeking out a white saree. I finally spot Dadu near the drinks. “Over there,” I say, inclining my head with a fond smile.