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Present Day



Mofe rang the doorbell, the chime echoing faintly from within Eric’s house. He shifted his weight, suddenly questioning his own plan. Maybe he should have called ahead. But no, a part of him liked this, liked the idea of paying back a fraction of the silence he’d levied against Eric. He wanted to see the unguarded shock on his cousin’s face, and wanted to be the one to disrupt his calm, polished world for a change.

The door swung open, and the reaction was better than Mofe had hoped. Eric froze, his hand still on the knob, his eyes wide and his mouth half-open. The words he clearly wanted to say tangled somewhere in his throat, strangled by pure disbelief. Mofe didn’t blame him. The last time they’d met, Mofe had stormed out of their shared past, furious, declaring that they were no longer family. Eric had called and messaged countless times since then, but Mofe had ignored every attempt.

Now, stepping over the threshold into Eric’s home without an invitation, Mofe felt a different kind of power. He was looking forward, letting the old hurts fall behind him like dead leaves. If he was going to move his plan forward—and make it work—he needed allies, and there was no one he trusted more than family, even fractured family.

“MJ… you’re back in the country?” Eric finally managed, his voice tinged with the exact stunned confusion Mofe had anticipated. From his expression, it was clear he hadn’t spoken to their mother recently; otherwise, he would have known when Mofe had planned to return to the country.

“I am. I came in this afternoon.” Mofe replied, stepping into the elegant foyer. Eric’s house was impressive. A four-bedroom detached duplex, sleek and modern. Too much for a bachelor, Mofe thought, for a moment forgetting that he still had that empty six-bedroom villa in California, three thousand square feet of empty, echoing luxury. It was time to let the house go. New plans, new beginnings.

“So… we’re on speaking terms again?” Eric’s voice was cautious now, wary, his initial shock hardening into suspicion. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “The last time you were here, you swore we’d never talk.”

“Yes, I did, what you did was unforgivable, Eric,” Mofe admitted, not waiting for an invitation before walking past him toward the living room. The air between them was still thick, but he refused to be an outsider in his cousin’s house. “And yes, I’m still pissed with you. But family is family, and now more than ever, it matters. We need to move forward instead of holding on to past transgressions.”

Eric followed him in, his posture still guarded. “Now more than ever? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mofe sank into a plush sofa, the expensive leather soft and forgiving beneath him. He allowed himself a small, dry laugh, more at the absurdity of his own situation than anything else. “It means I have a daughter, Eric. And for her sake, I need to become a father, one she would grow to love and respect. I already lost her early years and will need to make up for everything I missed out on.”

The words hung in the quiet room. Eric’s arms slowly uncrossed, as he followed Mofe into the living room.

Mofe continued, his voice lower, more earnest. “It doesn’t make sense to cut off family members now. What would I tell her when she asks about my relatives? That I cut all of them off? You know the history with my father’s side of the family. It would be a very uncomfortable conversation to have with her, that I have no family members except my aunt. You and Aunt Moni are the only family I choose to recognise, so I need the both of you. And although what you did all those years ago to Ezinne was wicked, I know in your young mind you were being protective in your own way. I might have done the same if I believed I was protecting you.”

Eric’s tension eased significantly, as he moved to sit in the armchair opposite Mofe, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Wow, MJ. You really do seem… different. Lighter, somehow. Just a few weeks back, you were so angry. Did something happen during your time away to change you?” He hesitated, the unspoken name hovering between them. “And… how’s Eve by the way?”

Mofe’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze drifting momentarily to the window. “She’s… gone. She left me.”

Eric blinked, his voice barely a whisper. “Wait… what?”

Mofe shook his head, a faint, ironic smile brushing across his features. “ Yeah, she knew my heart wasn’t entirely with her and even though I was ready to be with her, she felt Ezinne would always take priority over her, especially with Azora in the picture. She knows I still have feelings for Ezinne. So, she broke off the engagement, and told me to return to where my heart had never truly left.”

"Wow," Eric breathed out, the word heavy with revelation. He leaned back in his armchair, studying his cousin as if seeing him for the first time. "I really didn't know you guys were having issues. From the outside, it always looked... well, perfect."

A wry, tired smile touched Mofe's lips. "Eve was perfect. Or as close to it as any human could be. The issues weren't with her, Eric. They were with me. I was a fool to think I could fully commit to building a new life with her when I'd left so many ghosts unchecked in my old one. I was a divided man, and she got the fractured pieces."

"She persevered for years, loving the parts of me that were present, patiently waiting for the rest to come home. But when I told her I was returning to Abuja to find Ezinne... that's when she finally saw the whole truth. She saw that a part of my heart had never left this place, and had always belonged to that unresolved chapter." Mofe's voice grew quiet, filled with a mixture of regret and respect. "She made the decision for both of us. And when she did... honestly, I felt a huge relief. It was a terrible, guilty relief, but it was real. I hadn't realized I'd been carrying this immense burden of trying to be a whole man for her when I wasn't one, until the moment she handed me the keys to my house and set me free."

He shook his head, as if physically dispelling the memory, and turned his focus back to Eric, his expression lightening with clear effort. "Anyway, enough of my soul-searching for one evening. How have you been since the last time I almost rearranged your face?"

Eric chuckled, a rich, warm sound that seemed to finally break the last of the ice between them. He gestured around the well-appointed room. "I've been good. Can't complain. The consulting firm landed two major international contracts this quarter, so that's kept me busy."

His smile faded into a more somber, thoughtful look. "I... I actually went to see Ezinne. A few weeks ago." He hesitated, choosing his words with care. "I apologized for my part in... all of it. For listening to her father instead of you. For not having your back." He looked down at his hands, his guilt palpable. "Seeing her, just imagining a fraction of what she went through after you left... It's been eating at me, MJ. I've been beating myself up about it. If I'd just let you and her—"

"Hey," Mofe interjected, his voice gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. He leaned forward, his gaze steady and earnest. "Eric, please. Look at me. We can't do this. We can't spend our time worrying about what could have been. That path leads nowhere but to more regret. What's done is done. The only thing we can do now, the only thing that matters, is how we move forward from here. Together."

"Yes, I guess you're right," Eric conceded, the tension in his shoulders easing as he accepted Mofe's stance on the past. He reached for his phone, a small, thoughtful smile appearing. "I haven't met her daughter yet—your daughter—but she shared some pictures with me. We’ve been texting for a while after our meeting, just checking up on her and asking if she’s well." He scrolled for a moment before turning the screen toward Mofe. "She even shared a whole folder with me on Photos, baby pictures and everything. Azora is your spitting image, Mofe, anyone can see that. Ezinne has been really accommodating; I was surprised she even agreed to meet with me."

"That's Ezinne," Mofe said, a soft, genuine smile touching his own lips as he looked at the image of the little girl with his eyes and her mother's smile. He thought about how lovely and forgiving she could be, when she wasn't being suspicious of one's motives. It was a part of her he desperately needed to rediscover.

A weighted silence fell between them, and Eric’s expression shifted subtly, the ease evaporating. He cleared his throat, suddenly unable to meet Mofe’s gaze. “Since you're in a good mood today and talking about moving forward... I think I should tell you something.”

Mofe immediately sat forward, the change in Eric’s tone putting him on alert. “What’s that?”

Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was obvious he was wrestling with the confession, and Mofe knew, with a sinking feeling, that whatever was coming was designed to test his newfound resolve. He promised himself he would keep his emotions in check.

“What is it, Eric?” Mofe asked again, his voice level.

“Remember that time you and Ezinne disappeared? I think you were both hiding out in some hotel room or so, and Ezinne’s dad was so pissed he had you arrested?”

“You know I remember.” Mofe’s voice was low, a flicker of the old anger behind his calm facade. “Even if I didn’t have a photographic memory, I would surely remember that incident. It’s not the kind of thing a man forgets.”

“I hadn’t seen you the entire day, but I had never imagined you would be holed up with her somewhere,” Eric continued, his words coming faster now, as if he needed to get them out. “I was in our BQ apartment when I heard her father angrily mobilising some policemen to begin searching for her. I put two and two together and knew you two had to be together. I went to him and I... I begged him to call off the search. I promised him I would find you both and that I would help him end the relationship." He finally looked up, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Truthfully, Mofe, I was scared of what he would do to you. That was the only reason I offered to help him. I thought I was mediating."

Mofe silently watched his cousin, his jaw tight but his promise to himself holding firm. He wouldn't speak until Eric was done.

Emboldened by the silence, Eric continued, the full truth tumbling out. “I was afraid, Mofe. I was afraid you had lost your focus, that you were throwing away your future for a girl and would get into irreversible trouble with such a powerful man. I believed I was protecting you. I thought if I could get you out of the country, then you would get over her. Looking back now, maybe I shouldn’t have meddled. I ended up making things so much worse.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I was the one who begged the General to fund your trip on the condition that you broke it off with Ezinne. I was the mastermind of it all, Mofe. I even told the General to tell Mr. Doherty to tell you I’d been arrested, and then I switched off my phone so you couldn’t reach me.”

Mofe sat back on the couch, the air rushing from his lungs as if he’d been physically struck. The final piece of the puzzle, the one he’d never seen, clicked into place with devastating clarity. He recalled the grueling night he’d spent in that horrid cell, and then bargaining for his freedom with the general the next day, it had all been his cousin’s plan.

“Wow,” was all he could say, the word a soft exhale as he processed the enormity of the information. The old Mofe would have already had Eric by the collar. But the new Mofe, the father, saw the fear in his cousin's eyes and the twisted love that had motivated it. At that moment, he decided. There was no point in getting angry over something that happened already. All that was in the past. It was time to move forward.

“It’s happened,” Mofe said, his voice surprisingly steady. “It’s in the past. What we can all do now is move forward and make the best of the situation. I’ve missed ten whole years of my daughter’s life, Eric. Ten years. And I’ve decided I’m done with the gimmicks, the grudges, the foolishness, the fights... all of it.” He leaned forward, his gaze intense and clear. “I've thought long and hard. I've been handling things poorly. I was so angry that I wasn't thinking straight before, but I have finally received some sense.”

Eric stared at him, utterly bewildered by the lack of an explosion. "What are you talking about?" he asked, sitting forward, searching his cousin's face for a sign of the fury he knew he deserved.

“It’s the past, Eric. I’m focused on the future now,” Mofe said, his voice carrying a resolve that was both new and absolute. “And the future… well, it starts with my daughter. It starts with Azora.”

He paused, seeing the lingering confusion on Eric’s face. His cousin understood the words, but not the sudden shift behind them. Mofe took a slow breath, making the declaration real by giving it voice. "I should have been piecing things back together when I first got back, instead of wanting to split them further. So that's what I'm going to do. I've decided to bring my family together, Eric. I plan to honour all the promises I made to Ezinne years back. To be with her forever and for always. I plan to win back the love of my life and wed her properly."

Eric’s jaw went slack. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.”

“When did you suddenly decide this?” Eric asked, his tone a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“The moment Eve left,” Mofe admitted, the memory sharp but no longer painful. “She was the one who pointed out something I’d refused to acknowledge for years, the fact that I’d never really moved on from Ezinne. I tried, Eric. God knows I tried to build a life with Eve. But we both know Ezinne has always been the one.” A faint, resigned smile touched his lips. “The funniest thing is, the moment I finally admitted it to myself, that restless feeling I’ve carried for a decade just… disappeared. I don’t know what it is about her, but since the first time I saw her, it’s always been her. It always will be.”

Eric nodded slowly, a look of dawning understanding on his face. “She’s still so beautiful after all these years, maybe even more. Still as breathtaking as she was, and even more graceful now.” He met Mofe’s gaze, his expression turning serious. “On some level, I think I always knew you could never truly let her go. But… does Ezinne feel the same way about you? Now, after everything?”

“That is the question, Eric.” Mofe’s confidence wavered, revealing the raw hope and fear beneath. “All I have right now is hope. I’m hoping I haven’t royally messed everything up beyond repair. I’m hoping to salvage something, anything. I’m hoping her feelings for me might be buried deeply, waiting. If that’s the case, I just might have a chance. But right now?” He let out a hollow laugh. “Right now, she hates my guts and distrusts every word I say.”

“Well.. you never know,” Eric offered cautiously. “I was genuinely surprised she agreed to meet me. I didn’t expect her to, and I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d refused.”

“You’re not her problem, Eric,” Mofe said, his voice heavy with self-reproach. “You’re not the lover who made promises to her, broke them, and left her behind, with the child he’d fathered. You’re not the one who returned disguised as someone else for whatever stupid reason and proceeded to torment her. That was all me.”

Eric sighed, the weight of his own guilt returning. “I still played a big part in this mess. It pains me every day, now that I truly see the consequences of my meddling.”

“It’s in the past now,” Mofe said firmly, reclaiming the mantra. “Let’s move ahead, Eric. We can’t change what we did. We can only change what we do next.”

“Yeah,” Eric agreed, a new determination in his eyes. “Let’s do that. And I’ll be happy to assist in any way that I can.” He leaned forward, his expression turning practical. “So, what’s step one? Since you know she currently hates your guts?”

“I’m going to have to win her back somehow,” Mofe stated, as if it were the simplest and most obvious truth in the world. “And I plan to do whatever it takes to do just that.”

“Do you have a plan?” Eric asked, a hint of a smile returning. “A grand gesture? Flowers? A parade?”

Mofe laughed, a real, unburdened sound this time. “I’ve got no clue, Eric. Not a damn clue. She’s distrustful and she hates me, but I suppose it’s good she feels something. Indifference would be far worse.” He shrugged, a man staring up at a mountain he was determined to climb, even without a map. “I’ve got my work cut out for me. But I have no other choice than to find a way to make it all work out.”
********


Next post Sunday 9pm

Thank youuu

Thank you 🥰🥰 also is there a link to Tishe II ?

Thank you

Mhizdebs:
Thank you

You're welcome. Thanks for reading

jmkbond:
Thank you 🥰🥰 also is there a link to Tishe II ?

hmmm ... Tishé II is still on the way. No link yet.

Dear Readers,
Once again, I couldn't meet up with today's deadline. Please give me until Tuesday evening. My sincere apologies for the delay.

repogirl:
hmmm ... Tishé II is still on the way. No link yet.

Abeg give me link for this Tishé 1🙏

Dear Readers,

Abeg make una use this one hold body until I post the second part of the chapter on Thursday evening. Appreciate your understanding. 🙂

Herbiedeen:
Abeg give me link for this Tishé 1🙏

Here it is 🙂

https://selar.co/nf1n

repogirl:
Dear Readers,

Abeg make una use this one hold body until I post the second part of the chapter on Thursday evening. Appreciate your understanding. 🙂

Shey we no we fit fast-forward the time??

repogirl:
Here it is 🙂

https://selar.co/nf1n

Thanks a bunch

Present Day



The soft morning light came through the curtains in Ezinne’s bedroom as she got ready for the day. It was Monday, and she was looking forward to a great day. Despite Mofe’s annoying presence the night before and Azora inadvertently finding out the truth about her relationship with him, Ezinne had managed to sleep quite well. Maybe because a weight had finally been lifted off her chest because Azora had found out the truth and the heavens hadn't fallen.

She quickly placed the last of her items into her handbag, her fingers searching until they found the clasp, and just as she clicked it shut, a soft knock came at her door.

“Come in,” she said, guessing it would probably be someone from the house staff coming to tell her that the driver was around and waiting for her.

The door creaked open slowly. “Good morning, ma.”
“Morning Grace, the driver is around, I guess?” Ezinne asked, without bothering to turn around. Instead she began straightening the bed sheets.

Grace lingered near the doorway, as she replied "Actually, Mr. Johnson is here,” she said. “He’s waiting in the living room. He asked me to tell you he’ll be taking you to work this morning, and dropping off Miss Azora at school on the way.”

The words hit Ezinne like a splash of cold water. Her hand stilled on the bedspread, her breath catching almost imperceptibly. For a moment, she simply stood there, the morning’s calm shattered.

But Grace was already leaving, the door clicking shut softly behind her, leaving Ezinne alone with the silence and the sudden, simmering tension coiling in her chest.

Ezinne stood frozen for a few seconds. What exactly was this man up to? She asked herself.
Didn't he have an entire multinational corporation to run? Emergency board meetings to attend, international calls to take, actual world-changing responsibilities? Or had his new mission become to suffocate her with his relentless, inconvenient presence in the life she had so carefully constructed without him?

She drew a sharp breath, her sensitive fingers pressing distinct impressions into the soft fabric of the mattress.

He most likely wanted to spend time with Azora, using the school run as his excuse. But this was Ezinne’s time with her daughter, their quiet mornings together before the day pulled them in different directions. Now, instead of enjoying that peace, she had to deal with him tagging along like an unwanted third wheel.

Maybe it was time to sit him down and talk properly about custody hours. She couldn’t keep letting him show up whenever he felt like it. If there was going to be any structure to this new arrangement, she needed to set clear boundaries. She wanted her time with Azora free of his constant interference. Him being around just made things unpleasant for her.

Her mind returned to last night's dinner. She had heard the tension in his voice when Anthony joined them. Though she couldn't see his expression, she had felt the shift in the room's energy, the clipped tones, the possessive edge in Mofe's remarks that made everyone uncomfortable. His apology afterward had sounded genuine, his voice softer, almost contrite. But rather than reassuring her, it had only heightened her suspicion. That agreeable attitude, followed now by this sudden, self-appointed role as her driver... It felt less like an apology and more like a carefully calculated move.

"What exactly are you trying to do, Mofe?" she wondered. Was this about control? Guilt? Or some deeper game she hadn't yet deciphered?

Pushing her irritation down, Ezinne picked her bag and left her room, moving with practiced ease toward Azora’s room. Her fingers trailed lightly along the wall, following the familiar path she could navigate without sight.

Her shoes made quiet sounds on the soft rug as she walked down the hallway. The smell of breakfast—scrambled eggs and buttered toast—hung in the air. She stopped at Azora’s door, running her fingers over the familiar wood before knocking twice and slowly pushing it open.

“Hey, Zee, you in here?”

“Yes, good morning Mom,” Azora’s cheerful voice floated from the direction of her desk. Ezinne could hear the sound of a textbook being slipped into a backpack. “Just finishing up. I'll be ready to leave soon.”

Ezinne couldn't help but notice that her daughter’s mood seemed gleeful that morning.
“You've had breakfast?”

“Yup. Uncle MJ is here, and Ms. Grace just told me that he’s taking me to school today.”

Her tone was bright and bubbling with excitement.
Ezinne stepped further into the room, her hand maintaining contact with the doorframe for orientation. “You sound happy about that,” she said, forcing a lightness into her voice that she didn’t feel, as a tightness formed in her chest.

Azora laughed, her voice light. “Of course. He said last night he’d come, and he did. I wasn’t completely sure he meant it—I was afraid he’d travel again.”

Ezinne swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat. Her daughter’s words unsettled her. Azora was already so attached to Mofe, and if he ever failed her, if he broke a promise, it would crush her little heart. But how could Ezinne prepare her for that without shattering her faith in people altogether?

She made her way towards the direction of Azora's voice. She bent slightly, reaching out until her fingers found the familiar pattern of Azora’s braided hair. She gently traced the neat rows before cupping her daughter’s warm cheek. “You know Mofe is a very busy man. He owns a large company and that's bound to take a large part of his time. I know he loves you a lot and wishes he could spend all his time with you but the reality is, he won't always be available.” she whispered, her voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t name. "Do you understand?”

Azora leaned into Ezinne's touch, her smile audible in her voice. “I understand, mom. I'm just happy he's here now.”

Ezinne held the moment, a silent prayer forming in her heart. It was a plea that her daughter’s trust would remain unbroken, that it would not be shattered like her own had been so long ago.

“Yeah, I can see that. You're more excited than ice seen you in weeks.”

“Of course, I am!” Azora’s voice brimmed with excitement. “He’s my dad! I can’t wait to introduce him to all my friends and tell them I have the coolest dad ever!”

“Erm, Azora,” Ezinne said, “could we… hold back on spreading that piece of information for now?”

The energy in the room shifted immediately. Ezinne could hear the change in Azora’s breathing, the slight rustle of clothing as her daughter likely turned toward her. “I don’t understand, Mom. If he’s my dad, why can’t we tell people?”

Ezinne spoke carefully, choosing each word. “For a long time, people have believed your father died. If we tell them now, it will cause a lot of confusion. People will ask questions .. questions you might not be ready to answer yet.” She softened her voice, making it a request. “Please, just give Mofe and me some time to sort everything out first.”

What Ezinne didn’t say was the fear tightening in her stomach. She still didn’t know if Mofe planned to stay or if he would end up hurting their daughter, or even try to take her away. Until she understood what he really wanted, she couldn’t let anyone know he was Azora’s father.

“Then maybe you should never have lied about it in the first place. You told me never to lie but you lied to me for years. Why did you lie to me for so long, Mom?” Azora asked, her voice quieter now, filled with confusion that made Ezinne’s heart ache.

“I was scared it would upset you,” Ezinne admitted, guilt washing over her. “I didn’t want you to think badly of me or him. I never thought he would come back.”

“And why did he leave?” Azora pressed, trying to make sense of it all. “Was it because of me? I’ve heard some dads don’t want to take care of their kids. Is that what happened?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Ezinne said right away, pulling her daughter into a tight hug. “I wish … I wish I could explain everything now, but we don’t have time. Just know this, Azora, you were never the reason he left. We had our own problems, and when he left, I didn’t even know I was pregnant. You had nothing to do with it. Okay?”

“Yes, Mom,” Azora mumbled into her shoulder. After a moment, she pulled back and asked, “Is that why you both always argue because you hate him for leaving and he hates you for not telling him about me?”

Goodness gracious! Ezinne's heart nearly leapt out of her chest. What kind of hard hitting questions was Azora asking her?

“No dear, we do not hate each other. We fight because we’re both stubborn people who can't agree on anything. But no matter what, we both love you more than anything. That will never change. I need you to remember that.”

“Okay, Mom,” Azora said, sounding a little more at ease.

Ezinne let her go but stayed close. “But isn’t it weird that I call him Uncle?” Azora asked, still unsure.

“Weird..? No, it’s not weird,” Ezinne reassured her. “When the time feels right, you’ll know what to call him. Being a parent isn’t about a name, Azora,it’s about love, being there, and showing you care. When you’re ready, you’ll know what to say. Understand?”

“I guess so,” Azora said thoughtfully.

“Alright then,” Ezinne said, gently smoothing her daughter’s hair. “We need to leave soon. Finish up and meet us downstairs in five minutes, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” Azora replied, her cheerful energy returning. I’ll be right down.”


Ezinne walked to the door feeling far shakier than she had let on, the confident mask she’d worn for her daughter beginning to crack as soon as she left the room. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d answered all of Azora’s questions well enough, but her daughter had seemed reassured for now at least. And she didn’t seem to resent her, which had been Ezinne’s greatest fear. She was at least grateful for that.

She made her way down the corridor, and was just stepping into the living room when she caught it, his scent. That familiar, deeply masculine musk smelt like a statement of its own. It unsettled her immediately, stirring memories she’d worked hard to bury.

“Ezinne, good morning,” he said, his voice calm and assured, before she could even fully orient herself or offer a greeting.

She could tell he was seated on the large sofa to her right, but she didn’t turn to look at him directly. “What’s this about you dropping us off this morning?” she asked brusquely, bypassing any pleasantries. Her tone was all edge, all impatience.

“Yeah, I’ve decided to handle your morning runs. I’ll be driving you and Zee from now on,” he replied smoothly. If he noticed her rudeness, he gave no sign of it.

“Why?” The single word was sharp, clipped.

“Well… because I’m available, and I want to,” he replied, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Because you ‘want to:? You didn’t think to run it by me first? You just suddenly decided?” Her voice tightened with each question.

“Ezinne, what’s there to run by you? I want to drive you and our daughter to school. What’s so strange about that?”

“Knowing you,” she said, not bothering to soften her accusation, “I know this is a plot for something.” There was no point hiding what she really thought. He needed to know she saw right through him.

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, it’s a plot, Ezinne. A plot to spend as much time as I can with our daughter. I’m sure she loves the idea. The problem here is you.” She heard the soft click of his shoes against the marble floor as he stood and began moving toward her.

“What are you saying?” she asked, her posture stiffening.

“I’m saying, you’re the one who has a problem with this arrangement,” he said, his voice dropping lower and moving closer. She could feel him standing just inches away, his presence heavy in the air around her. “Tell me, Ezinne,” he murmured, his words a soft, challenging whisper near her ear, “what is it about me being here that bothers you so much? Are you scared you’ll fall for me all over again if I stick around?”

The boldness of his question left her stunned. For a moment, she couldn’t find her words. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mofe,” she finally shot back, stepping away quickly to create distance.

But in her rush, her heel caught on the edge of the rug, and she lost her balance, stumbling backward. Just as she thought she would fall, his hands gripped her arms firmly, pulling her upright. She felt his breath brush against her cheek as he held her steady, the moment hanging between them, tense and undeniably close.

"Careful." His voice was a low rumble that was too close, vibrating in the little space between them.

She was steady again, but he didn’t let go. His hold remained, warm and unsettlingly possessive. She felt the strength in his arms, the firmness of his chest. She could smell the clean, familiar scent of him, the expensive soap, the faint hint of his cologne. It was a combination that wrapped around her, pulling at memories she’d fought to bury.

"Can you let go of me now?" The words came out sharper than she’d intended. She needed space from him. She needed air that didn’t taste like him.

"Alright." He released her slowly, his tone careful, as if he were handling something fragile. "If you're sure you’re good."

“I’m fine.” She clipped the words short, putting a wall of finality between them. Physically, she was. But on the Inside, however, her pulse raced, her calm had been cracked open by the nearness she hadn’t wanted.

Then, a bright voice shattered the tense silence.

“Uncle MJ!”

Azora’s footsteps were light and eager on the hardwood floor while her voice brimmed with unfiltered joy. Ezinne could hear the smile in it, the sheer delight. The sound of a backpack being dropped, then the rustle of movement as her daughter rushed forward.

Mofe’s entire presence shifted. She heard it in the sudden warmth of his voice, a tenderness that had been absent moments before. "My beautiful Zee. Come give me a proper hug, my lovely little girl!"

There was a soft thud as Azora collided with him, the sound of a tight, earnest embrace. Ezinne could picture it without seeing her daughter’s arms wrapped around him, Mofe holding her close, perhaps even closing his eyes in a moment of pure, unguarded emotion. The image, built from sound and memory, was a knife to her heart.

She stood silently, with her arms crossed over her chest.. She listened to Azora’s cheerful chatter about her school day, her science project, her friends—amd everything else she had lined up for the day. Mofe’s responses were engaged, patient, and full of a warmth.

She could feel the bond forming between them, like it was a tangible force in the room. It was natural, effortless, and it scared her. This was what she should want for her daughter, yet now that it was happening, it felt like she was the one losing out.
To her, Mofe's sudden, forceful insertion into their daily routine was an invasion. A strategic move in a game she wasn't yet sure how to play.

A soft sigh escaped her, unheard beneath her daughter’s happy sounds. She didn’t like this. Not one bit. Every instinct told her to shield Azora, to pull her back. But how could she protect her daughter from a happiness she herself had always wished for her? The conflict was a cold weight in her stomach, heavy and unmovable.
********

Final part of Chapter 10 will be posted tomorrow evening. Bear with me please. Thanks.

Herbiedeen:
Thanks a bunch

you're graciously welcome

Uthman51:
Shey we no we fit fast-forward the time??

lol! If only it were possible

Chapter 10 final part Contd.



The sun had gone down when Mofe finally had some time to reflect on how the day had gone. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but compared to how things usually were between him and Ezinne, he considered it a good day. At the very least, it gave him a tiny sliver of hope that there was a chance things between them might improve.

That morning, he had insisted on driving Ezinne and Azora himself. His security team followed in another car, staying close but out of sight. In a city where kidnappings were a real danger, he wasn’t taking any risks with the people who mattered most to him.

To his surprise and happiness, Azora chose to sit in the front seat next to him. She buckled her seatbelt with a big smile and spent the whole ride chatting happily, asking him about his trip to America, his work, and the places he’d visited. Mofe enjoyed her questions and did his best to answer them, grateful for her lively curiosity.

He also asked about her progress in school since he’d left. Azora’s face lit up as she told him about a new girl in her class who was a very smart student and had become her biggest competition. Azora, who had always been the top student, was determined to keep her place. There was a confidence in her voice that reminded Mofe so much of Ezinne. Even at her young age, he could see her strength and determination.

Mofe felt a deep sense of pride, a warmth that felt more meaningful than any business success. This was his daughter. His own flesh and blood. It hurt to think about all the years he had missed, her stories, her achievements, her small victories. Right then, he promised himself he would make up for that lost time. He would be there for her, truly and fully.

Then there was Ezinne. She sat quietly in the back, giving short answers whenever he tried to include her in the conversation. She was polite but distant, keeping her guard up. Mofe felt the weight of her silence even as he enjoyed Azora’s laughter. Still, he told himself it was progress. She hadn’t argued or pushed him away in front of their daughter. That alone meant something.

Yes, he thought, it had been a good day. Not perfect, and still fragile, but good.


After dropping off Azora, the mood in the car shifted completely. The drive with Ezinne became quiet and tense. Mofe tried to make light conversation, mentioning the traffic, the weather, anything to break the silence, but Ezinne had remained distant. She’d simply put on her earphones and asked not to be disturbed. Not wanting to be a bother, he’d kept it shut and been the dutiful Chauffer.

He spent most of the day at the school, getting involved in its daily operations. He checked on the ongoing renovations, paying close attention to every detail. He met with the new accounts manager, going over numbers he already received in weekly reports. His talk with the business manager was encouraging, the school’s new website and social media efforts had already led to a 20% increase in student enrollment, with even higher numbers expected by the end of the year.

Lastly, Mofe made sure to spend time with Anthony, the principal, the man he suspected had feelings for Ezinne. They’d discussed school programs and the extra curricular activities that he’d suggested at dinner when Mofe had shut him down. Mofe had to admit that Anthony was good at his job. He knew what he was doing. Still, Mofe felt he needed to make his position clear. When Anthony casually had asked how long Mofe planned to stay, Mofe looked him straight in the eye and said, “I’m here to stay.”

But long after the conversation ended, the question lingered in Mofe’s mind: Was he really?

As the CEO and chairman of a multi billion dollar company, his long absence wouldn’t go unnoticed. Even though his deputy, William, had promised to cover for him, investor trust depended heavily on visibility and perception. The board could vote to remove him if they felt he was neglecting his duties. It was a real possibility, and one he had to consider.

Could he really step back from the company he’d built to focus on being a father to a child whose first ten years he’d missed? Was he ready to exchange high-stakes meetings for school events and bedtime stories?

The reality of that choice weighed on him, but he reminded himself to be patient. He had played a big part in creating this difficult situation, and if he wanted to fix it, he would have to take it one day at a time. Repairing what was broken wouldn’t happen overnight, but he was determined to keep trying until they could all move forward. Techbits could wait a while.

After leaving the school at 2 p.m., Mofe headed to his office and spent several hours focused on his company work. William, his partner, was handling things well, but there was still plenty that required Mofe’s attention. He’d been on an important video call that ran late into the afternoon, which meant he had to ask his driver to pick up Azora from school instead. Still, he made sure to call her during the drive to explain that he was busy but would take her to school the next morning.

By 6 p.m., he’d returned to his hotel, taken a quick bath, ate dinner alone, and spent the next couple of hours reviewing financial reports and business deals. But his mind kept drifting … away from profits and mergers, and toward his daughter and Ezinne, and the life he wanted to build with them. So he’d decided to go back to the house later that evening. He’d wanted to tuck Azora into bed, a small but meaningful gesture.

But as his driver pulled into the compound, Mofe felt his confidence dip. In his hands was a carefully wrapped package meant for Ezinne, a special device designed to help with her visual impairment. It was the main reason he had stayed so long in the U.S. He knew Ezinne wouldn’t accept it directly from him, so he needed help from someone she trusted, Rachel. She was the only one who might be able to make Ezinne understand. Still, Mofe worried Rachel would be upset when she found out he’d accessed Ezinne’s medical records without permission. He told himself it didn’t matter how he got the information; what mattered was that he was trying to help.

“I might be a while,” Mofe told his driver as he stepped out of the car, holding the package. “Make yourself comfortable in the guest house. I’ll call when I’m ready to leave.”

“Okay, sir. Need help with that?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Before he reached the door, one of the house staff, a young woman, opened it for him. The house was quiet, winding down for the night. Though most of the staff had left, a few remained, including the live-in housekeeper.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome,” she said softly, moving aside to let him in.

“Thank you. Where’s Ezinne?” he asked quietly.

“I believe madam is in her room, sir.”

“Is Rachel with her?”

“No, sir. Miss Rachel is in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner.”

“Please ask her to meet me in the study.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded and headed toward the kitchen.

“And Azora?” Mofe added quickly.

“She’s asleep, sir. It’s a school night.”

He’d missed saying goodnight. Disappointment tugged at him. “Alright. Please send dinner to my driver in the guest house,” he said, then turned toward the stairs.

He couldn’t help himself, so he stopped by Azora’s room first and gently pushed the door open. The room was dark, but a sliver of moonlight fell across her bed. She was sound asleep, curled up under the covers with one hand near her face. His heart swelled. ‘That’s my girl,’ he thought, feeling more determined than ever.

He would make this right. Somehow, he would make up for lost time and heal the past with Ezinne. Softly closing the door, he headed to the study, ready to convince Rachel to help him.


*************
The study was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a single desk lamp, its light barely reaching the corners of the room where shadows clung like silent observers. Mofe stood near the window, the weight of the carefully wrapped package in his hands seeming to grow heavier with every passing moment. Across from him, Rachel stood frozen, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

“You did what?” The words escaped her lips in a sharp, hushed whisper, her eyes widening as she took an involuntary step backward. The kitchen towel she’d been holding hung loosely in her hand, forgotten. The air in the room felt suddenly thick, charged with the weight of his confession.

Mofe moved quickly toward her, his own voice dropping to a hushed, urgent tone. “For goodness’ sake, Rachel, keep your voice down,” he cautioned, casting a nervous glance toward the door. “You’ll wake the entire house.”

She stared at him, her posture stiffening. “Mofe, be serious right now.” She lowered her voice but kept it tight with tension. “How did you even get her medical records? There’s no way the hospital released them to you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration tightening his shoulders. “That isn’t the point,” he insisted, leaning slightly forward as if to impress the urgency of his words upon her. “The point is there might be a real chance for Ezinne.”

“How is that not the point?” Rachel’s voice trembled with disbelief. She took another step back, putting more space between them, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. “You sent her private health information to some specialist abroad, without her knowledge, and you expect me to be calm about it?” Her eyes scanned his face as if searching for some hint of deception.

“I didn’t ask her because I knew she wouldn’t trust me enough to agree,” he explained, his patience thinning but his tone remaining controlled.

“Of course she wouldn’t—” Rachel’s words were sharp, her hands gesturing emphatically. “I don’t trust you with it either! Can you blame her?”

“I’m only trying to help her, Rachel.” Mofe’s voice softened, pleading now. “There’s a chance, a real chance she could regain her eyesight.”

Rachel shook her head, her expression hardening further. “Don’t. She’s been through every test and consult already. You stole her records for some other reason. I know it.”

Mofe raised his hands in a gesture of frustrated surrender, the package in his grasp momentarily forgotten. “Rachel, if I had some sinister plan, why would I be telling you?”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up slightly, the towel now clenched in one fist. “Maybe you need me to help you sell the lie.”

“My God, Rachel.” His voice dropped, the rawness in it unmistakable. He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “I know how I’ve acted. I’ve been an ass. I deserve your distrust. But just for a moment, listen. Don’t believe me yet, just listen.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, her skepticism etched into every line of her face. The silence between them felt heavy, charged. Finally, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she gave a tight nod. “Okay. I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his posture easing just a fraction. “When I first found out about Azora, I was angry. I said and did things I regret.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I’ve had time to think. Time to calm down. I swear to you, all I want now is to do what’s best for my daughter. That’s it.” He met her eyes, his expression earnest. “I know it’s hard to believe. I’m not asking you to believe me yet, I’m only asking for a chance to earn your trust. Just a chance.”

Rachel studied him, her expression unreadable. The tension in the room seemed to hum softly. After what felt like an eternity, she sighed, her arms uncrossing slowly. “So what do you need from me?”

“You’re the closest person to Ezinne.” Mofe’s voice was gentle now, almost weary. “She… well, she can’t stand the sight of me. Anything I try to do, she’ll resist. I need you to help me get through to her. That’s all.”

Rachel shook her head slowly, the initial shock in her eyes giving way to a reluctant, wary acceptance. She took a step closer to Mofe, her voice dropping to a hushed but firm tone. “I swear, Mofe,” she began, her words measured and deliberate, “if you make me regret trusting you … if this backfires… I will personally make sure you’re out of their lives for good.” Her gaze held his, unwavering. “Don’t make me regret this.”

But before Mofe could respond, another voice sliced through the tension in the room, sharp and clear.

“Regret what?”

Both Mofe and Rachel turned sharply toward the doorway. Ezinne stood there, one hand resting lightly against the doorframe, her posture tense but controlled. Though her eyes couldn’t see the scene before her, her expression was acutely alert, her head tilted slightly as if parsing every sound, every shift in the air. Her presence seemed to freeze the room, suspending the moment in a heavy, breathless silence. The unspoken words between Mofe and Rachel now hung in the air, thick with implication, and Ezinne’s unanswered question lingered like a challenge none of them were ready to meet.


********

Chapter 10 is finally done!

Pheeeeww! This one was a real struggle to put together. First I broke my notebook screen at the start of the week, and then the power pack of my backup system also decided to quit on me like two days later. Let’s just say I really saw 'weeeehhn' this week.

But thankfully, both issues are fixed now, and we’re back on track ... well… as long as life doesn’t decide to throw in more surprises.

No matter what happens, one thing is certain: this story will be concluded before the year ends.

And here’s a little something to look forward to. I’ve got some really good news to share. Something amazing happened, almost too good to be true, and I’ll be telling you all about it on Sunday evening. So stay tuned right here in Nairaland’s Literature section!

The next post drops on Wednesday evening. Thanks for reading. 🙂

It's Sunday evening


Finally caught up...


Good job, the updates are more frequent than they were in 2014

kristalblaze:
It's Sunday evening


Finally caught up...


Good job, the updates are more frequent than they were in 2014

Yes! My middle name is now consistency . Thanks for reading. Next post is on Wednesday evening.

Thank you very much Repo

jupitre:
Thank you very much Repo

you're welcome

Thank you so much

Mhizdebs:
Thank you so much

you're welcome

Second part of this chapter will be posted tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

Present Day

The air in the study, already heavy with tension, seemed to grow thicker. Mofe and Rachel both spun toward the doorway. Ezinne stood there, stiff and still, one hand gripping the doorframe. The tilt of her head and the sharpness in her blind gaze showed she had been listening long enough to know they were hiding something.

“Ezinne,” Rachel said quickly, her voice pitched too high. “We were just—”

“Regret what?” Ezinne asked, her voice low and dangerously calm. She asked, her unseeing eyes turning between Rachel’s guilty look and Mofe’s tense silence. “That sounded like a serious promise. Rachel, what is he asking you to do?”

Mofe stayed quiet, his thoughts racing. This was not how he’d planned for things to happen.

Rachel, caught between them, looked from Mofe’s pleading eyes to Ezinne’s sharp suspicion. She drew in a deep breath, torn between her loyalty to Ezinne and the fragile hope Mofe had just offered.

“Ezinne…” Rachel began gently, almost pleading. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit down,” Ezinne said firmly. “I want to know what’s happening in this house. Why is he here so late? And what secret are you two whispering about that calls for such big vows?” Her head turned slightly, her blind gaze seeming to cut right through Mofe. “What have you done this time?”

The package in Mofe’s hands suddenly felt unbearably heavy. There was no more hiding. The truth, born out of lies but offered in desperate hope, was about to be revealed. The careful plan was gone, only the reckoning remained.


“Ezinne, calm down. Mofe was only asking for my help and I told him he shouldn't make me regret helping, that's all.”

“Help for what?” Ezinne asked, her voice still dripping with suspicion.

“Could you come in and close the door? Mofe has something interesting to tell you,” Rachel said, and Mofe already knew they were off to a poor start.
Ezinne entered the living room, her white cane tapping lightly against the polished floor with each step. The sound was steady, confident and almost defiant as she navigated her way toward the couch.

She paused just at the edge, tilting her head slightly as though narrowing her eyes at Rachel even if she couldn’t see her.

“What’s it about?” she asked flatly.

Rachel glanced at Mofe before answering. “Mofe got you a device, something that can help with your daily activities.”

Mofe shot Rachel a sharp look. He didn't think that was the right way to broach the subject with Ezinne. She'd been too quick and too blunt. It would have been better to ease Ezinne into the idea, not corner her with it. For a moment, he wondered if recruiting Rachel had been a mistake.

“Okay…” Ezinne’s voice was still cautious, tinged with suspicion.

Mofe leaned against the desk, folding his hands to keep them steady. “It’s a prototype I had my engineers design, specifically for you,” he said carefully, keeping his tone even.

“Thanks, but I don’t need any new devices. I can manage just fine with what I have.”

Her dismissal was swift, almost cutting. Something in Mofe’s chest tightened, but he forced his jaw to stay loose, unclenched. Losing his temper now would only give her more reason to shut him out.

“Ezinne,” he tried again, his voice firmer, a note of urgency slipping through despite himself. “Trust me, even if you don’t need another device, you need this one. It works with everything you already have. It works with your phone, your PC, even your walking cane.”

Her cane tapped lightly against the floor as if punctuating her silence, her body angled away from him, defensive.

He pressed on, unable to stop himself. “There’s a voice command feature, swipe recognition, and it connects via Bluetooth. It can read your messages aloud, answer your calls, even send texts and emails by voice. You can attach it to your cane, although there's a cane accessory that’s lighter than your present one and has a cushioned handle so it's comfortable for your palm. It's got sensors that buzz when close to an obstacle. Stairs, walls, objects, and it alerts you before you reach them. The feature I guess you'd probably like the most is it's detection of clothing types and colors, skirts, blouses, dresses, pants. And in case you're wondering, you can listen to music, movies, or audiobooks on it. It’s like a personal assistant you don’t have to ask twice.”

He paused, his breath heavier than he’d intended. “It mostly works with a voice prompt. I'll need to register your profile to get you started with it.”

Ezinne’s lips pressed into a thin line. She had been quiet throughout the time he’d been speaking but it was obvious from her features that she wasn't in the least but interested in the device.

When she spoke, her tone was cool, final. “I’m sure it’s great, Mofe. But like I said before, I’m fine. I don’t need your gadgets. Can we go to bed now?”

Mofe sighed, knowing he shouldn't be surprised but her refusal still stung, and it was sharper than he wanted to admit. His hand curled into a fist before he forced it open again, his knuckles had become pale with the effort of restraint.

He glanced at Rachel, his eyes silently pleading for backup. She caught his look and straightened, recognizing her cue to step in.

“Ezinne, he worked really hard on this for you. Why don’t you at least give it a try?” Rachel’s voice carried across the room, calm but coaxing.

“Okay, no.” Ezinne’s cane tapped once against the floor as she adjusted her stance. “I didn’t beg him to work on anything for me. I just really want to go to bed now.”

Rachel frowned, her frustration slipping before she could hide it. “Ezinne, you don’t have to be rude. He’s only trying to help.”

“Help?” Ezinne let out a short, brittle laugh. She turned her face in Mofe’s direction, her unseeing gaze sharp in its own way. “This isn’t help. This is business. He calls it a prototype, doesn’t he? Which means I’m supposed to test it, report the flaws, then he’ll polish it and make millions more off people like me. Well, sorry. I’m not his guinea pig.”

Mofe shifted on his feet, fighting the urge to snap back. His jaw clenched as he forced a steady breath. “It’s not like that, Ezinne. I didn’t design this to sell. I had this made for you. Just you. It’s one of a kind.” His voice softened, but there was an edge of pleading now. “Please. Just try it.”

Her hand tightened around the cane’s handle. “No. I already said no, and I'll keep saying no. I’m going to bed.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the AC.

Rachel stepped in again. “There’s something else.”

Ezinne sighed deeply before turning slightly toward Rachel, "for goodness sake, what is it now?”

“Mofe has some… more news.” Rachel’s words were measured, but her eyes cut to him, urging. He knew she was telling him to talk about the test results and a possible treatment, but he could bet his entire fortune that it was a horrible idea to bring it up now. This was not the time.

Mofe shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Not now.” But Rachel tilted her head, silently pressing him forward.

He rubbed his forehead, then let out a slow sigh before speaking up,“I’ll need an office at the centre, somewhere I can work and hold meetings. So I'm thinking of taking one of the newly renovated offices.”

Rachel’s mouth parted in quiet protest, her eyes narrowing at him. But he lifted a hand, signaling her to let it go.

Ezinne gave a short, humorless laugh. “Meetings? What kind of meetings…? No .. you know what, as long as you don’t get in my way, that’s fine. I’m tired and I just want to go to bed. Shouldn’t you also be heading back to… wherever it is you actually stay?”

Her words slid under his skin like glass splinters. Still, he pressed on, holding the device in his palm as though its weight might anchor him. “Ezinne, I would really appreciate it if you gave this device a chance.”

She exhaled sharply. “For goodness’ sake, I’ve said no! What is this really? Did you put a tracker in it? A recorder? Because I don’t understand why you’re so hellbent on me using something I don’t want.”

Rachel interjected quickly, her tone firm. “Ezinne, calm down and just give the device a chance! What if …”

“What if, nothing!” Ezinne’s voice shot through the room, trembling with suppressed anger. She turned toward Rachel but her chin lifted stubbornly in Mofe’s direction. “I don’t want his gifts. I don’t want his help. He is not here to help anyone but himself. He's a master manipulator Rachel, and you've let him charm you. He'll tell you what he knows you need to hear, act like he cares, all the while making his own plans. I can hardly stand him being in this house, Rachel. I’m only tolerating him for Azora’s sake.”

That last line knocked the air from Mofe’s chest. His fingers tightened involuntarily around the device. All day, despite her attitude, he had remained steady, patient, careful not to push but this was too much. He'd finally reached his limit. Her words cut him deeper than he could bear anymore.

His voice dropped, rough and controlled, but brimming with heat. “Enough.”

The single word filled the room, heavier than any shout could have been. His composure was fraying and he was barely keeping his temper in check. His effort, his intentions had been rudely dismissed and spat back at him. He stood straighter, every muscle tight, frustration burning just beneath the surface.

“Rachel, please give us a minute, Ezinne and I need to talk privately,” he managed to say with a steady voice, briefly looking at Rachel before taking his gaze back to Ezinne.

He knew he needed to speak to Ezinne directly. Having Rachel there as backup was clearly not helping. Ezinne was turning on her friend.

“Don’t you dare take another step, Rachel,” Ezinne snapped, her tone sharp as steel.

But Rachel didn’t stop. Without a word, she moved to the door. “I’m sorry, Ezinne, but this is something you two need to handle privately,” she said softly before slipping out and closing the door behind her.

Ezinne began pacing, her cane clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles whitened. Every step, every movement told Mofe that she was hurting and he understood.

He took a breath, having no idea how to pierce through the anger that had her seething when he was in the room.

“Ezinne, I can see that you’re still very angry with me, and you have every right to be. I deserve your anger. But I don’t deserve the insults you keep throwing at me. I won’t stand here and let you tear down my character. Is that what you’ll tell Zora about me? That I’m a manipulator, shady, selfish?” His voice wavered, then firmed again. “Yes, I lied to you in the beginning. I deceived you, and I regret that. I was angry and hurt, and I made the wrong choices. I'm not perfect Ezinne, I'm just a man. I'm human and I've made mistakes that hurt you but don’t stand there and act like you’ve been innocent all this time. Don’t be a hypocrite, Zinnie. Have you forgotten that you intentionally shut me out of my daughter's life for ten years? Ten whole years.”

“Mofe! The problem with your smartness is that you think the rest of us are dumb. Your eventual plan is to wedge yourself between Azora and I. So I wouldn’t put it past you to have bugged that gadget. You're most likely recording me, and building a case to take my daughter away. I won’t let you do that, Mofe. It will be over my dead body.” Her voice was hard, every word a thrown stone.

“For Heaven’s sake, Ezinne,” Mofe said, his voice tight as his hand cut through the air in frustration. “Please listen. Everything I do, and anything I would ever do, is to help you and our child. I am not trying to take her away. You’re her mother, and she needs you just as much as she needs me. Taking her away from you would not do her any good, so believe me, it is not my intention to hurt our daughter.” Or you, he failed to add.

“Right,” she replied flatly, folding her arms across her chest as if to keep herself from shaking. Her chin lifted, but the slight quiver in her lips betrayed her. The tone of her voice made it clear she didn’t believe a word of what he said. “I don’t want your help or your pity. You’re only here for Azora, and that’s fine. Do that. But keep away from me.”

“So you really won't try the device I brought?” he asked, trying to steady his breath.

“Nope. I don’t want it.” She shifted her weight back, as though ready to turn away, her hand brushing against the wall for balance.

He dragged a hand through his hair and let out a long, heavy breath. His shoulders lifted then fell, frustration buzzing under his words though he forced them to stay soft. “Ezinne…”

“What? What now, Mofe?” she snapped, her head tilting sharply toward his voice, her grip tightening on her folded arms.

He stepped closer, careful not to crowd her but unwilling to stay still. “It doesn’t have to be like this between us. We once had something good. We still have something good … Azora. Couldn’t we try to put the hate aside and be the parents she needs? This anger will not help her or us. I want to work with you, not against you. I want us to be a team for her.” He spread his hands as if to offer her the truth between his palms. “I won’t force the device on you. I know you’ll need time to understand that I mean no harm, and that’s fine. You can try it when you are ready. But please… for Azora, can we stop tearing each other apart?”

“Nice speech, Mofe,” she said with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. Her arms dropped to her sides, and she reached for the wall again, her fingers tracing the edge of the doorway to guide her steps. “But I’m not buying it. You’re only trying to get me to drop my guard, but that will never happen. Because the second I do, that’s when you’ll strike. I don’t trust your intentions for our daughter, nor do I trust this device you brought. You, Mofe, are not someone I will ever trust. Good night… not that I care whether your night is good or not.”

She turned toward the door, moving slowly but firmly, every step measured.

“No, Ezinne,” he snapped, moving quickly to block her path, his body tense and looming in front of her. She stiffened at the sudden stop, her hands fisting by her sides as if bracing herself.

“You do not get to walk out on me. I am trying here, really trying, and the least you can do is meet me halfway. I’m willing to take every insult you throw at me, because yes, I deserve some of it. But I won’t let you laugh in my face and walk away. Hate me all you want, distrust me all you want, but it won’t stop me from helping you, especially when it’s in my power to do so. I won’t stand by and watch you struggle when I can create something that can ease it.”

His tone sharpened as the anger finally broke through. His voice rose, his hands slicing the air with every word.