The Face In The Mirror
This morning, Maya did not bother checking the notifications on her phone after breakfast. Instead, she walked slowly toward the mirror and studied her reflection, as though searching for the woman she once used to be.
Her gaze lingered on the fine wrinkles beneath her eyes.
A faint whisper escaped her lips.
“These wrinkles... When did they appear? And why did I never notice them before?”
A gentle smile touched her face.
Perhaps they were the price of a life devoted to others.
These wrinkles were the silent reward for years spent raising children, caring for a family, and sacrificing her own ambitions to make a house feel like a home. She had always believed that once her children grew older, she would finally have time for herself. Yet she had never stopped to consider a simple truth: by the time her responsibilities ended, her youth would have quietly slipped away.
Time had never asked for permission. While she was busy living for everyone else, it had left its signature across her face.
Lost in her thoughts, Maya barely noticed the shrill ringing of her phone.
The sound pulled her back to reality.
With a heavy heart, she walked toward the table and picked up the device. The moment she saw the caller's name, a flicker of warmth appeared in her eyes.
“Sara, my sweetheart,” she whispered softly. “So you finally remembered your mother".
Maya pressed the answer button and slowly brought the phone to her ear.
“Hello,” she said softly.
The heaviness in her voice was impossible to conceal.
On the other end of the line, Sara spoke with cheerful enthusiasm.
“Happy birthday, Mama!”
Maya closed her eyes briefly before replying.
“My lovely daughter, my birthday was yesterday. Nevertheless, I appreciate that you remembered it.”
A moment of silence followed.
Sara immediately sensed the sarcasm hidden beneath her mother's calm tone.
“Mama,” she said gently, “you seem to have forgotten that I sent you birthday wishes yesterday. And today, the moment I got free from work, I called you. Yet you're still upset with me.”
Maya lowered her gaze.
For a few seconds, she remained silent, struggling to restrain the emotions that had been building within her since morning.
“Yes, dear,” she finally said. “You are right. At least you fulfilled your duty as a daughter, and I am grateful for that.”
Her voice faltered slightly.
“At least you didn't forget, like your brother did. He didn't remember that his mother is still alive.”
Sara immediately sensed the loneliness hidden beneath her mother's words.
“Mama,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection, “how could you even think that we would ignore you? We are a part of you.”
She paused briefly before continuing.
“Mama, Azan is busy preparing for his final-term examinations. You know how demanding the CA qualification is. And as for me... I owe you an apology. Yesterday, I got caught up with my friends and completely lost track of time.”
Maya listened in silence.
Not a single word escaped her lips.
Sara waited for a response, but when none came, she cleared her throat.
“Mama, are you listening?”
Maya drew a deep breath.
“Yes, dear,” she replied quietly. “You are right. Perhaps I am becoming overly sensitive.”
There was another brief silence.
Then Sara spoke again, this time in a more thoughtful tone.
“Mama... are you crying?”
Maya's fingers tightened around the phone.
“What happened?” Sara asked gently. “Is everything alright?”
For a moment, Maya considered answering. She wanted to tell her daughter about the emptiness that had been consuming her for months, about the silence of the house, the distance that seemed to grow wider with each passing year, and the loneliness she could no longer escape.
But the words never came.
Instead, she quietly disconnected the call.
For a moment, Maya felt as though the blood had drained from her veins.
She struggled to compose herself. Slowly, she walked toward the table, placed her phone in one corner, and sank into the chair, allowing her weary body to rest.
A profound realization settled over her.
Her loneliness did not stem from the absence of people; it lived within her. The emptiness she carried was not created by the silent house around her, but by the growing void inside her heart.
For years, she had devoted herself to others, measuring her worth through their happiness. Now, with her children living lives of their own and her husband rarely at home, she no longer knew who she was beyond those responsibilities.
Perhaps that was what frightened her most.
Not the passing years.
Not the wrinkles.
But the unsettling feeling that she had lost herself somewhere along the way.
Chapter 3 coming soon.......23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ06TJcpug5M
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