S A R A

"Thank you, sweetie, for cooperating throughout the whole time. You can wait outside until I have a quick chat with your mom,” I say to the girl seated across from me. She smiles slightly, nodding before leaving my office. 

Seconds later, a woman steps in, her golden locks mirroring those of her daughter. Oops, it seems I may have misspoken. Perhaps I should say her daughter shares the same beautiful blonde hair as her. She has perfect features, perfect enough to depict how rich she is. 

She delicately places her handbag, which must have cost $1,000, on the seat next to her as she settles right across from me. 

"Hello, Mrs. Miller, I would like to talk about something important regarding your daughter Emily." 

"That's what I am here for, leaving my most important meeting for which I might lose a huge project," she replies, sarcasm or probably exasperation in her voice, which clearly illuminates her irresponsibility towards her own daughter. No wonder Emily is in such a mental state now, all thanks to her mom. 

"Throughout the therapy session, I noticed that she wasn't facing any problems, except for the lack of love from her family. I understand that things are not going well between you and your husband, but it's important to keep your issues between the two of you. Please don't involve Emily in them. No matter how many therapy sessions she attends, if she keeps experiencing the same thing, she will continue to be affected. A family has a significant impact on a child's life, shaping them to be responsible or potentially causing negative outcomes. I hope you understand what I'm trying to convey, Mrs. Miller." I end my words with a lot of hope in my eyes, anticipating her to agree.

“I’ll try,” is all she mutters before grabbing her bag and storming out of my office.

This is what I don't like about some family members of my patients. No matter how hard I try, they will never be ready to acknowledge their own fault. It's always their ego before anything.

I press my body back on my comfy chair. My gaze settled on the name plaque, placed at the front edge of my table. "Psychologist Sara Zafar" 

I remember the time I was so excited to start a new journey in California and so was my family. But once I arrived, everything felt so unfamiliar. New faces, new places. It was like stepping into a whole new world, feeling completely lost without a clue where to go.

After completing my studies in California I decided to make my move to New York. Starting my career as a psychologist in New York felt like the best option for me.

But there are moments when my heart yearns for the warm embrace of my loved ones. I miss my family. It's like I haven't seen them in ages, even though it's only been four months since my last trip to Florida.

Although nothing has changed within me, except for one thing. I have become more reticent.  I'm not that cheerful, livly Sara anymore.

Perhaps it is because I have spent many years here away from my family, without the companionship of close friends. The absence of my family, who lovingly tolerated my childlike antics, has somehow instilled a sense of maturity and seriousness within me. 

However I'm okay with the change in my life, instead, I have grown to appreciate this new version of myself while  I never hated my older self either. 

I hear a knock on my door and in the next second I voice, "Come In" My assistant steps in once she gets my permission, “Sara, Your next appointment is with Mr Habib Kabir."  

I nod.

Minutes later a middle aged man comes in with a huge grin flashing across his face. "Mr Kabir seems so happy today!" I exclaim with a smile causing him to chuckle. "Yes! After all, I'm here to meet my daughter!" . I smile widely. 

Mr Habib Kabir has been attending therapy sessions for the past few months and to be honest now he is in a lot better condition than the time I first met him. Moreover this is his last therapy he is attending. Him liking me this much had a special reason according to him, he says I feel like his own daughter and for him it doesn’t feel like therapy sessions anymore, he just comes to visit his daughter. 

To be honest he is the only person I felt close to, after all we belong to the same country, Bangladesh. He has a son, the owner of his own manufacturing company which is famous in New York. I have heard a lot from him about his son but haven't met him yet.

Mr. Kabir lives in a grand residence alongside his only son. But he doesn't have any other family members around in the same country. While most of his relatives are living in Bangladesh, occasionally his one and only sister pays him a visit in the US. But at the end of the day he is all alone again. 

Moreover, his son doesn't seem to allocate much time for his father. I wonder how pathetic he is! It's not just about providing financial support; taking care of his father's mental well-being is equally important. Unfortunately, here his father is, eventually seeking therapies. 

⋆｡ ｡⋆ -'♡´- ⋆｡ ｡⋆

I step into my apartment and plop my bag on the nearby couch before shutting the door behind me. Reaching out for the switch, I flick on a light located at the corner, illuminating the whole area in a cozy atmosphere. It isn't super bright but it is enough for me to see my surroundings.

Taking off my shoes I place them on the shoe rack and straight make my way towards my bedroom. I look at my bed and find Bella sleeping there peacefully.

I'm tired. Grabbing a pair of pajamas I slip into the bathroom knowing only a cold shower can help me now.

After finishing my refreshing shower, I step out of the bathroom, towel in hand, gently drying my damp hair. Dropping the towel on my bed I walk out of my room only to make my way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I shove out a bottle of cold water and without any break I gulp down half of it. 

The back of my clothes clung to my skin, still damp from the water droplets that had fallen from my hair. Unlike many people here, I don't use a hair dryer to dry my hair. I prefer to let my hair dry naturally, just like I used to do back in my own country. There's something satisfying about embracing that familiar routine and I don't know why. 

I had dinner on my way back home as I didn’t have the mood and strength to make at home. Shoving my phone out of my bag I return to the living room and sink my body onto the couch, savoring each and every comfort the padding beneath it is giving me. My eyes are closed, reviewing my schedule for tomorrow. 

Abruptly, I feel a gentle buzzing sensation beneath my hand, and it dawns on me that it is my phone vibrating. Grabbing my phone I glance at the screen and soon a smile form on my lips. Getting off the couch I rush to turn on all the lights in the living room that cast brightness all over. 

Returning to the couch I pick up the video call making sure the smile is still lingering on my face. "Hey sweetheart!" Samir bhaiya's voice comes from the other side of the call and I smile widely seeing him laying down next to his daughter. "Hey bhaiya. What are you doing?" 

"Nothing much, just thought of calling you as we knew you didn't go to sleep yet"  

"How is it going there?" I notice Aleena taking over the screen as she asks me the question. She is laying on the other side of her daughter and her eyes are focused on the screen, waiting for my answer. "Pretty well. I miss you all" I reply. 

This time I can see Samir bhaiya on the screen, "Then come back, we all are missing you too" Before I can react to his words the phone gets back to Aleena once again, "Your brother gets so emotional when it comes to you. Anyways, tell me when are you visiting Florida again?"

"Umm I don't think I can go in the next few months. I've been packed up on a tight schedule." I respond, causing Aleena to let out a sigh. "It's alright," she say, her words laced with understanding. "But trust me, we all miss you a lot."

I chuckle at her response, "Show me Aleesa, what's she up to?" I ask, eager to catch a glimpse of the little one. Aleena obliges, moving the camera to Aleesa who is nestled between her and Samir bhaiya. My heart melts at the sight of their loving bond.

"Oh, by the way, where are Sahil bhaiya, Raisa bhabi, and mom, dad?" I inquire. "They must have woken up by now.... Wait, let me take the phone to them," Aleena replies, getting off the bed and walking out of their bedroom. Our conversation carries on for another 30-35 minutes before I hang up the call and walk towards my bedroom.