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For several seconds, Ezinne said nothing. She reached for her napkin instead, carefully wiped her fingers and laid it beside her plate. Then she gave a short, disbelieving laugh and shook her head.

"Wow."

Mofe frowned. He knew that tone, and it was not encouraging.

"What?"

"You've got it all figured out, haven't you?"

Something about the way she said it immediately put him on the defensive. He straightened in his chair, his brows drawing together as he tried to understand where the sarcasm was coming from.

"Ezinne, what does that mean?"

"It means you've apparently been making all these plans without even asking me." She pushed her plate slightly away and turned more fully towards him. "You've been speaking to the doctor, you've engaged immigration experts, made enquiries about visas and even started looking into getting us second passports."

"I'm discussing it with you now."

"After you've already decided what you think should happen."

Mofe drew a slow breath, trying not to let her response irritate him. This was precisely the reaction he had been hoping to avoid. He reached for his glass again but changed his mind, leaving his hand resting on the table instead.

"I haven't decided anything for you, Ezinne. I'm simply trying to make sure that when you're ready for the surgery, there won't be anything standing in your way."

"And I appreciate the thought, Mofe, but I haven't even decided whether I'm having the surgery."

*And what's taking you so long to decide?*

The question rose to his lips, but he stopped himself before it could escape. He knew how much the possibility of another operation frightened her, and the last thing he wanted was to make her feel as though he was dismissing those fears.

"I know that," he said instead, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Then why are you rushing ahead?"

"Because these things take time!" he replied, his voice rising before he could stop it. He spread his hands across the table, frustrated that she seemed unable to understand what he was trying to do. "There's no harm in getting the paperwork started while you make up your mind."

Ezinne immediately stiffened. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her napkin, and she drew herself up in her chair.

"Please don't raise your voice at me."

Mofe pressed his lips together and looked away. He took a deep breath, allowing a few seconds to pass while he tried to get a grip on his temper.

Here he was, trying to help, and somehow they were already arguing about it. He had spent days thinking of ways to make the process easier for her, only to have his intentions questioned before he could even finish explaining himself.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, turning back towards her. "I'm not trying to fight with you."

"Then listen to what I'm saying." Ezinne's voice had softened a little, but there was still frustration in it. "I need you to be patient with me. This isn't a small decision, Mofe. It's my eyesight we're talking about, and I'm the one who has to undergo the surgery."

"I understand that."

"Do you?"

He gave her a puzzled look, although she couldn't see it. The question irritated him more than he wanted to admit.

"Of course I do." He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. "I'm not asking you to have the surgery tomorrow. I'm simply trying to make things easier for you, and somehow you're making it sound as if I'm doing something wrong."

Ezinne shook her head and reached for her glass, taking a small sip before setting it down again. She seemed to be trying to control her own irritation too, but when she spoke, her voice was firm.

"That's because you keep assuming I need you to arrange every single thing for me."

Mofe stared at her in confusion. Was it wrong for him to want to do everything within his power to make her life easier? He had never imagined that offering to take care of travel arrangements would become such a problem.

"I don't need your help with everything, Mofe," she continued, moving her hands from her lap to the table. "I can make my own travel arrangements if I decide to go."

"I never said you couldn't."

"And for your information, I already have a valid US visa."

Mofe blinked, his frustration giving way to surprise. "You do?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Two years ago. The centre collaborated with an international NGO, and I was invited to attend some programmes abroad. We arranged visas for the United States, the United Kingdom and several European countries. They're all still valid."

Mofe sat back slowly, taking a moment to absorb the information. He hadn't known any of that. Considering how much he had been involved in the affairs of the centre recently, it surprised him that something so important had never come up.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Ezinne frowned. "Why would I have? It never came up."

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. She was right about that much, but it still bothered him that he'd spent so much time worrying about something she apparently already had under control.

Ezinne must have heard him sigh because she shifted in her chair and continued, sounding even more annoyed.

"I'm not as helpless as you always seem to think I am, Mofe."

That did it.

Mofe sat back abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping lightly against the floor. He looked at her in disbelief, wondering if he had heard her correctly.

"Helpless?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"When have I ever said you were helpless?"

"You don't have to say it." Ezinne turned her face towards him, her mouth tightening. "Sometimes the way you behave makes me feel that way."

Mofe gave a frustrated laugh and shook his head. He looked down at the table for a moment, his fingers rubbing slowly across his forehead before he turned back to her.

"Ezinne, are you serious right now?"

"Very."

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, struggling to understand how they had arrived at this point. All he had wanted was to discuss a few travel options with her, and now she was accusing him of treating her like a helpless child.

He wasn't trying to control her or take away her independence. If anything, he admired how much she had accomplished despite everything she had been through.

Yet somehow, she had managed to turn his concern into an insult.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" he asked, dropping his arms and leaning forward again. His voice was strained now, and he made little effort to hide it. "Stop caring? Stop trying to help because you might take offence at it?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying, Ezinne?" He spread his hands helplessly. "Because I was only trying to do something for you, and somehow it has become a problem."

She fell silent.

Mofe waited, hoping she would explain herself in a way he could understand. Instead, she lowered her head slightly and began smoothing the napkin on her lap, running her fingers over its edges as though she needed something to occupy her hands.

He watched her for a few seconds before looking away, disappointed that they had reached another point where neither seemed able to understand the other.

He rubbed both hands over his face and let out a long breath. A dull headache was beginning to form behind his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders had become uncomfortable.

He knew he was losing his temper, but he couldn't help feeling hurt by her accusation. He had never once thought of Ezinne as helpless. He knew how independent she was, how hard she had worked to rebuild her life and establish the centre. Why couldn't she understand that wanting to make things easier for her did not mean he doubted her abilities?

His attention drifted to his plate. The food he had been enjoying only minutes earlier was now growing cold, and he realised he had completely lost his appetite.

"Forget it," he said finally, pushing his plate away.

Ezinne lifted her face towards him. "Mofe..."

"No. It's fine."

He reached for his chair and pushed himself to his feet, taking care not to shove it back as roughly as he felt like doing. Standing there, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt and glanced towards the doorway, wondering whether there was any point trying to salvage the conversation.

"I'm going to check on Azora before I leave."

Ezinne didn't answer. She remained seated, her hands now resting quietly in her lap, and the silence between them felt heavier than the argument itself.

For a moment, Mofe stayed where he was. Part of him wanted to sit back down, apologise again and find a way to make her understand. Another part was too frustrated to risk saying something worse.

He waited a few seconds, hoping she might call him back or say something that would make it easier for him to stay.

But she said nothing.

Mofe picked up his phone from beside his plate and slipped it into his pocket. He pushed his chair neatly back towards the table, more out of habit than anything else, then turned towards the doorway.

"I'll see you later."

He walked out of the dining room without looking back, his footsteps quickening as he crossed the hallway towards the staircase. By the time he reached the stairs, he was thoroughly frustrated, and he took the first few steps more heavily than usual.

He had know this would happen. For a brief moment during dinner, he had even thought they were getting somewhere. Instead, they had ended up arguing over something he had genuinely believed would make her happy.

Mofe gripped the banister as he climbed, trying to calm himself before he reached Azora's room. He didn't want his daughter asking questions because he had walked in looking angry, especially when none of it had anything to do with her.

Still, he couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened.

One moment, he and Ezinne seemed to be making progress, finding their way back to the easy closeness they had once shared. The next, something would happen, and they would be arguing like two people who barely understood each other.

As he reached the landing and turned towards Azora's room, Mofe shook his head in frustration. How had they managed to take ten steps backwards after struggling so hard to take just two forward?

Ezinne had been upset when they returned from his hotel that night, and although he doubted she would have told Rachel everything that had happened between them, Rachel was observant enough to know when something was wrong.


Had Ezinne told her they had slept together? The thought made him suddenly uncomfortable, not because he was ashamed of what had happened. Far from it. But that night had felt too personal to him, too complicated, and he had no idea what Ezinne had made of it afterwards. If she had spoken to Rachel about it, then Rachel might know more about Ezinne's feelings than he did. Worse, she might already have decided that whatever tension now existed between them was his fault.


But if that was what she thought, she wasn't showing it now.


Rachel smiled. It was an empathetic smile, as if she could read his mind and see his discomfort.


“Whatever happened,” she said, “you need to talk to her.”


Mofe let out a tired sigh. Ezinne wasn't ready to talk. “I think space is what she needs right now.”


“Maybe she’s had enough space.”


“I don’t want another conversation ending in an argument, Rachel.” He said. Although he tried to hide it, it hurt him deeply whenever they argued.


“And avoiding her is better?”


He sighed deeply, unable to give her an answer.


Rachel set down the bowl she was holding and turned to face him properly.


“Mofe, you and Ezinne have been through a lot. I understand that. But you can’t keep guessing what the other person is thinking. That’s how misunderstandings grow. At some point, both of you have to learn to talk about things instead of avoiding them.”


He gave a short laugh. “You’re beginning to sound like a marriage counsellor.”


“Well, somebody has to.”


Mofe shook his head, smiling despite himself.


“I’m serious,” Rachel continued more gently. “Just talk to her.”


He knew she was right. Unfortunately, knowing that did not make the thought of another difficult conversation with Ezinne any more appealing.


Was she even ready to talk? There was only one way to find out.


“I’ll try,” he said eventually.


Rachel nodded, but before turning back to the stove, her expression changed. “And what about the other thing?”


Mofe frowned. “What other thing?”

“The note in Ezinne's room.” Her voice lowered. “How is the investigation going?”


His smile disappeared. “It's ongoing.”


“Nothing yet?”


Mofe shook his head. “Nothing useful. The investigators went through the camera footage from the centre, but there were quite a few people coming and going that day. There was no clear footage showing who could have left it.”


Rachel frowned as she slowly folded her arms. “That’s not very reassuring.”


He sighed, “no. It isn’t.”


“She’s still not sleeping properly, you know.”


Mofe’s expression immediately changed. “What do you mean?”


“She sleeps, but not well. Some nights she wakes up several times. It might take quite a while before she can stop thinking about what happened.”


A heavy feeling settled in Mofe’s chest.


Ezinne had said very little about the incident since that night. But it had been over a week since it happened and he had hoped some of the fear would have faded somewhat. Apparently not.



“The investigators are still gathering information,” he said after a moment, “and it’s going to take time. The best precaution we can take is not hold any more parties until this is sorted out.”



Rachel sighed. “I just hate that she’s still frightened in her own house.”


“So do I.”


Mofe’s jaw tightened. The idea that someone had deliberately frightened Ezinne and could still be somewhere around them bothered him a lot.


“Hopefully it was just some idiot playing a cruel prank,” he said. “Someone who was trying to scare her for whatever reason, and that’s the end of it.”


Rachel looked doubtful but eventually nodded. “Hopefully.”


For now, there was little else either of them could do.


Rachel turned back towards the stove and picked up the wooden spoon again. “Dinner is almost ready. If you are interested , you should go get your seat at the dining table.”



Mofe pushed away from the counter, very much interested in the heavenly aroma coming from the meal Rachel was preparing. “What’s for dinner?”


"Grilled fish, fried plantain, sauteed vegetables and my special sauce." Rachel said.


"Sounds good. What's special about the sauce?"


Rachel grinned. "If I told you, it wouldn't be special anymore, would it?"


He laughed and headed back toward the living room to see Aunt Moni was getting to her feet.


"Oh, Mofe, you're back. I was just about to leave,” she said.


He stopped beside the sofa. "Already?"


"Yes, my dear. I have somewhere else to be,” she said. “The driver is already waiting for me in the car.”



Mofe frowned slightly. That was unusual.



Whenever he saw his aunt these days, she always managed to find an opportunity to bring up his uncle, even if it was only to ask whether he had given their last conversation any thought.



Tonight, however, she seemed unusually eager to leave.


"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" he found himself asking.


"No, thank you. Rachel has been trying to persuade me since I arrived, but I really must be going."


Ezinne turned toward her voice. "Thank you for coming, Aunty. I enjoyed our conversation."


"So did I, my dear." Aunt Moni moved closer and gave Ezinne's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Take care of yourself, and remember what we talked about."


Mofe's interest immediately sharpened. Remember what they talked about?


He looked from his aunt to Ezinne, but neither woman offered any explanation.


"I will," Ezinne replied quietly.


Aunt Moni collected her handbag and turned to Mofe. "Give Azora my love. I don't want to disturb her upstairs."


"I will."


She gave him a brief hug. "Take care of yourself too, my dear."


"You too."


He watched her walk out, wondering what had brought her there and why she hadn't made even the slightest attempt to discuss his uncle.


That was very unlike her.


He was still thinking about it when Rachel appeared from the kitchen carrying a large tray toward the dining room.


"Oh, she's gone!" Rachel exclaimed, looking disappointed.


"Apparently, she had somewhere to be," Mofe replied.


"That's a shame. I was hoping she'd stay and taste this."


Ezinne silently got up and made her way to the dining room while Mofe followed behind.


Rachel placed the tray on the centre table, revealing a beautifully arranged platter of grilled fish surrounded by golden pieces of fried plantain. Beside it sat a bowl of rich pepper sauce, its aroma immediately filling the room.


Mofe looked at the food appreciatively. "That looks incredible."


"Thank you." Rachel smiled proudly. "Now, instead of standing there admiring it, come and sit down."

He settled onto one of the dining chairs, leaving a comfortable space between himself and Ezinne.

Rachel noticed immediately and frowned at him. "Mofe, why are you sitting all the way over there?"

He looked up. "What’s wrong with sitting here?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and said, "just come closer to Ezinne and help her set up her food like the gentleman that you are.”

Ezinne immediately straightened. "Rachel, I can manage."

"I know you can." Rachel's voice remained calm as she reached for the plates. "But for once, just sit still and let somebody help you with something."

"I don't need—"

"Ezinne."

There was enough gentle warning in Rachel's voice to make her stop.

Mofe hid a smile as he moved closer. "Don't worry. I promise not to make a mess of it,” he said knowing that was the least of Ezinne's worries.

Ezinne pressed her lips together but said nothing.

He collected a plate and began serving her, carefully removing the larger bones from a portion of fish before adding some fried plantain and vegetables. He spooned a little sauce beside it and placed the plate in front of her, guiding her hand briefly toward its position.

"Fish on the upper half of the plate, plantain and veggies below it, and the sauce to the right," he explained.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome."

Rachel watched them with a satisfied smile as she filled their glass cups with water before settling into another chair with her own plate.

For the next few minutes, they ate while Rachel talked about the dish, explaining how she had experimented with different peppers and spices before arriving at the combination she liked.

Mofe complimented the food several times, much to Rachel's delight. Ezinne also admitted that the sauce was particularly good, and Rachel promised to make it again.

Eventually, Rachel excused herself to check on Azora, leaving Mofe and Ezinne alone.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Mofe took another bite of fish, trying to decide how to begin the conversation that was weighing on his mind.

He could hear Rachel moving around in the kitchen, but otherwise the house was quiet.

"So," he began, setting down his fork. "I have to travel to the States for a few days."

Ezinne paused briefly before continuing with her meal. "Oh."

"It's for work. There's a board meeting I need to be present for."

She nodded. "Okay."

Mofe studied her face. One of the things about her being blind was he was able to stare at her and take in her features without being seen as a creep.

He couldn't tell what she was thinking, and that bothered him. He didn't want her to assume he was leaving because of the tension between them, especially when they had barely managed a proper conversation for a while now.

"I won't be gone long," he added. "A few days at most. I'll attend the meeting, take care of a few things and come straight back."

"All right."

He waited, hoping she would ask something else, but she continued eating.

Mofe sighed quietly. "I wish you and Azora could come with me."

That got her attention.

Ezinne turned her face toward him. "Why?"

He smiled. "Why not? I'd love to take you both around. Show you where I live, introduce you to some people. Show off my beautiful daughter and her mother."

Ezinne gave a small, humourless laugh. "Well, I'm sure Azora would enjoy that. As for me, I don't know what exactly you'd be showing me."

Mofe's smile faded. He knew she was referring to her blindness, but he didn't appreciate the way she had dismissed the idea. There were plenty of things they could enjoy together, and he had never considered her inability to see as a reason she couldn't travel or experience new places.

Mofe was tempted to say so but decided against it. There was no point starting another discussion that might end in an argument. Instead, he reached for his glass of water and took a slow sip, watching Ezinne as she continued eating.

"Actually, there's something else I've been meaning to discuss with you," he said, placing the glass back on the table.

Ezinne paused with her fork halfway to her mouth before lowering it to her plate. She turned her face slightly in his direction, giving him her attention. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking about your surgery."

The change in her expression was slight, but Mofe noticed it immediately. Her lips pressed together, and she seemed to lose interest in the food before her.

"Mofe..." she began with a sigh.

"Just hear me out," he interrupted gently, raising one hand as though asking for a moment.

She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm listening."

Mofe shifted in his seat, turning more fully towards her. He had thought about how to approach this conversation several times, and now that he finally had the opportunity, he wanted to make sure she understood his intentions.

"I've been discussing a few things with Dr. Edwards," he began, keeping his tone casual. "We're still looking at the United States as an option, but he mentioned that Germany or Switzerland might also be worth considering, depending on the medical team and the treatment plan."

Ezinne remained quiet, her face turned towards him. Encouraged by her lack of objection, Mofe rested his forearm on the table and continued.

"I know the whole visa process can take a while, and I don't want us to get to the point where you're ready for surgery only to discover that we have to wait months for travel arrangements."

"What arrangements?" she asked, reaching for her glass.

"Well, for one thing, I've been looking into getting you and Azora second passports. St. Kitts and Nevis, specifically."

Ezinne stopped moving. Her fingers rested against the glass for a moment before she slowly withdrew her hand.

"Second passports?"

"Yes. Through their citizenship-by-investment programme." Mofe leaned forward slightly, glad that she seemed interested enough to ask. "It could make travelling easier for both of you in the future. There would still be entry requirements for some countries, of course, but at least we'd have more options."

She made a small sound in her throat but said nothing, so he went on.

"I was thinking of including Rachel too, if she's interested. I imagine you'd be more comfortable having her around during your treatment and recovery, especially if I have to return to work at some point."

Ezinne remained silent, although the slight frown on her face had deepened. Mofe noticed it but decided to finish what he was saying before asking what she thought.

"I've already made some inquiries, so I have an idea of what's involved. If you're comfortable with it, we can begin putting the documents together while you decide what you want to do about the surgery."

He sat back and waited for her response.

Present Day



Mofe sighed as the driver turned into Ezinne’s compound. Azora was beside him in the backseat, chatting happily about something that had happened at school, but he was barely paying attention.


He had spent most of the drive thinking about several things, but Ezinne’s surgery kept returning to his mind.


She still hadn’t made up her mind, but he was quite positive that she would eventually agree, and he wanted to be ready when she finally said yes.


He had already engaged immigration experts to look into the requirements for travelling to the United States for medical treatment. He had also spoken with Dr. Edwards about Germany and Switzerland as possible alternatives, depending on the treatment plan they eventually chose.


There would be visas, travel dates and hospital arrangements to deal with, and Mofe did not want Ezinne to agree to the surgery only to spend months waiting for paperwork.


The problem was that he did not have her permission to move forward with any of it.


He needed to talk to her, but he had no idea how to bring up the subject without making her feel as though he had already made the decision for her.


Their relationship was still strained, and he was finding the distance between them increasingly difficult to deal with. They barely spoke beyond what was necessary, and he missed their conversations, her laughter, and even the occasional arguments that usually ended with one of them teasing the other.


He had given her space, hoping she would eventually feel comfortable enough to talk about what had happened between them. But as the days went by, he was beginning to wonder if stepping back had been a mistake.


Still, he wasn’t going to force a conversation she wasn’t ready to have. At least, not about their relationship. The surgery was different. There were preparations to be made, and he couldn’t keep putting off the conversation forever.


As the driver brought the car to a stop, Mofe glanced towards the house and noticed his aunt’s car parked nearby. Her driver wasn’t inside, which meant Aunt Moni had probably been there for a while. The drivers usually waited in the section of the compound reserved for staff.


The sight of her car sent a small pang of guilt through his chest.


Aunt Moni visited Ezinne from time to time, so there was nothing unusual about finding her there. Still, seeing her these days immediately reminded him of the decision he had been avoiding.


His uncle wanted to meet. And he still had no idea what he wanted to do about it.


Before he could think about it any further, Azora had already opened the car door and jumped out.


“Mommy, we’re home!”


She hurried towards the house, her schoolbag bouncing against her back, while Mofe got out and followed at a more relaxed pace.


He found Ezinne and Aunt Moni in the living room, deep in conversation. Ezinne was sitting comfortably on one of the sofas, her cane resting beside her, while Aunt Moni had turned slightly toward her as she spoke.


Azora was barely through the living room doorway when she squealed in excitement. “Grantie Moni!”


Abandoning her schoolbag by the doorway, she hurried towards the older woman. “You're here!”


Aunt Moni's face lit up at the sight of her. “Look who we have here! My beautiful princess!”


Azora threw herself into the older woman's embrace, laughing as Aunt Moni kissed both her cheeks and held her away to examine her.


"Look at you! You're growing taller every time I see you."


Azora grinned. "That's what everybody says."


"Because it's true. Soon you'll be taller than all of us."


"I don't think I'll be as tall as Daddy," Azora replied confidently. "He's too tall."


Standing by the doorway, Mofe watched the exchange with an amused smile.


He still remembered how Azora had struggled with the title Great-Aunt Moni when she first met his aunt. She had declared, with all the seriousness of a child who had made an important decision, that the name was simply too much of a mouthful.


And since she couldn't possibly be expected to say all that every time she wanted to address her, she had decided to shorten it to Grantie Moni.


Now, depending on her mood, Aunt Moni was either Grantie Moni or simply Grantie, a nickname his aunt had taken to with surprising enthusiasm.


Mofe's smile softened as he watched them together. The woman who had raised him and loved him as her own son had now found another person to shower that same boundless affection on. And judging by the way Azora was practically glued to her side, the feeling was entirely mutual.


"Good evening, Mummy," Azora finally greeted Ezinne, as if remembering her mother was also sitting here beside her ‘grantie’.


Ezinne smiled and stretched out her arms, beckoning on her. Azora threw herself into them, wrapping both arms around her mother.


"How was school, my love?" Ezinne asked, running a hand over her daughter's hair.


"Fine. We had maths, and I finished before everybody."


"Of course you did," Aunt Moni said, making Azora giggle.


"Good evening, Maa mi," Mofe said quietly to his aunt, walking towards the sofa she was seated on.


"Mofe, my dear." Aunt Moni smiled warmly at him. "How are you?"


"I'm fine. I didn't know you were visiting."


"Must I announce myself before visiting Ezinne now?" she asked, giving him an amused look.


"Of course not." He smiled and leaned down to give her a brief hug. "I was just surprised to see you."


"Well, I came to keep her company for a while."


Ezinne eventually turned her face slightly in his direction. "Hello Mofe."


"Hi … Ezinne,” he responded. Their greetings were polite as usual. They kept it to the barest minimum.


Clearing his throat, he slipped his hands into his pockets. "How are you feeling?"


"I'm fine." Her answer was calm, and quiet.


“Good,” he nodded before turning to Azora. "Go upstairs, sweetheart, and put your things away."


Azora groaned. "But .. Daddy, I want to show Grantie Moni my new game."


He smiled but shook his head slightly, "you can show her after you've put your bag away, and taken your uniform to the laundry room."


She looked from him to Aunt Moni, clearly hoping for an ally.


Aunt Moni only laughed. "Go on, my darling. Your father has spoken."


Azora reluctantly picked up her bag and headed upstairs, leaving the adults behind and leaving Mofe feeling like the third wheel. Something told him Ezinne and his aunt needed privacy to continue whatever it was they had been talking about.


He looked toward the hallway. "Is Rachel around?"


"She's in the kitchen," Aunt Moni answered.


"I'll .. err … just go and say hello." He excused himself and headed toward the kitchen, relieved to have a reason to leave the living room.


The kitchen was one of the most impressive rooms in the house, and Mofe had always thought it suited Rachel perfectly.


It was spacious and beautifully designed, with polished stone countertops, sleek cabinets and a large central island that offered more than enough space for preparing meals. High-end appliances were fitted neatly into the cabinets, while a professional-grade cooking range took up an entire wall beneath a wide extractor hood. There were double ovens, a large refrigerator, and enough storage and working space to satisfy even the most demanding chef.


Rachel had once jokingly called it her dream kitchen, and Mofe could understand why.


Everything had its place, from the neatly arranged spice jars to the knives displayed on a magnetic rack beside the preparation area. Even the lighting had been carefully chosen, bright enough for cooking without making the room feel harsh or clinical.


At the moment, the air was filled with the delicious smell of grilled fish, roasted peppers and spices.


Rachel was standing at the island, spooning a thick reddish sauce into a small bowl. She looked up when she heard his footsteps.


"Well, look who decided to visit my kitchen today?"


Mofe smiled. "Good evening to you too. I thought we hired a live-in chef; have you fired him without my knowledge? You seem to be using the kitchen more than he does."


Rachel laughed and set down the spoon. "Very funny. I gave him and the rest of the staff the night off. How was your day?"


"Busy. Something smells really good,” he remarked, sniffing the air.


"Something always smells good in my kitchen,” She said, with a knowing glance at him.


He chuckled. "Modest as ever."


"Of course." She smiled and reached for a clean towel to wipe her hands. "How's Azora? I heard her come in."


"She's fine. Gone upstairs to drop her stuff and change."


Rachel nodded, looking pleased. "Thank you, by the way."


"For what?"


"For taking her every afternoon. It's really helped Ezinne. She's been able to get some proper rest without worrying about entertaining a ten-year-old who's always looking for something to do."


Mofe shook his head. "You don't need to thank me for spending time with my daughter. If anything, I'm grateful I get to have her around so much. I missed enough already."


Rachel's expression softened. "Well, whatever your reasons, it's been good for both of them."


Mofe leaned against the counter. "So how long has my aunt been here?"


"About an hour..."


He hesitated before asking, “Do you have any idea what she’s talking to Ezinne about?”


Rachel raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t. Why?”


“No reason.” He tried to shrug as casually as possible. “I was just curious.”


“Mmm-hmm.” She smiled as though she didn’t believe him, then turned back to the sauce she was stirring on the stove.


Mofe cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”


It was Ezinne he really needed to speak with, but Rachel had become something of a confidant for him where Ezinne was concerned. She listened without judging him and, sometimes, even helped him figure out the best way to handle things. More importantly, he trusted that whatever advice she gave would always come from wanting what was best for her friend.


“Okay...” Rachel said, giving him a brief, curious glance.


“I’ve been looking into the travel arrangements for Ezinne’s surgery.”


Her expression became more serious. “But she hasn’t agreed yet.”


“I know.” Mofe rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’m not trying to pressure her. I just want to be prepared in case she does.”


Rachel nodded slowly. “Okay.”


“I’ve spoken to Dr. Edwards a few times. We’ve also been discussing other options in case travelling to the United States becomes difficult. He mentioned Germany and Switzerland as possible alternatives.”


“That sounds reasonable.”


“It does, but there’s still the visa issue.” Mofe folded his arms across his chest. “I was thinking of starting the process for a US visa, but I don’t want everything depending on that. So I’ve also been looking into getting Ezinne and Azora second passports through St. Kitts and Nevis.”


Rachel’s eyebrows lifted. “Second passports?”


“Citizenship by investment. I’ve already made some enquiries. It could make travelling easier for them in the future, although we would still have to confirm the entry requirements for whichever country she eventually chooses.”


Rachel listened without interrupting.

“I was thinking of including you too,” Mofe added. “If you’re interested, of course. I imagine Ezinne would be more comfortable having you around during the treatment and recovery.”


Rachel’s expression softened. “That’s thoughtful of you, Mofe. But have you discussed any of this with Ezinne?”


He shifted his weight. “Not yet.”


“Why not?”


“Because she hasn’t even agreed to the surgery. I don’t want her to feel like I’ve already made plans for her or that I’m trying to pressure her into saying yes.”


Rachel gave him a patient look. “Then tell her exactly that. Tell her you’re only looking at the options so you’ll be prepared if she decides to go ahead.”


Mofe sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”


“It is easier when you actually talk to her.”


He looked away and shook his head. It was definitely not as easy as Rachel made it sound.


She studied him for a moment before a knowing smile slowly appeared on her face. “Speaking of talking, what exactly is going on between you two sef?”


Mofe’s hand stilled. “What do you mean?”


“Oh, please.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’ve noticed the way both of you have been behaving since that evening you took her out.”


Mofe looked at her sharply. He had a fairly good idea which evening she meant. Too much had happened that night for him to forget it anytime soon.


Still, he asked, “What evening?”


“The evening of the get-together. You said there was something Ezinne needed to get and you were taking her to sort it out.” Rachel stared at him as though she wasn’t buying his act at all.


Mofe turned towards the kitchen island and suddenly became very interested in a cream-coloured bowl sitting on the counter.


“Oh. That evening.”


“Yes, that evening.” Rachel tilted her head, studying him. “You both came home looking like you’d had the argument of the century, and since then you’ve been walking around each other like strangers.”


Mofe shifted uncomfortably. It had been the same night as the Braille note incident, which gave him a convenient explanation for some of the tension between them. But he knew that wasn’t the whole reason.


He wondered how much Rachel knew.

Dear readers,

Kindly accept my sincere apologies for the prolonged silence and delayed chapter completion. I went through mild symptoms of the dreaded writer's block for a while, lol. However, I'm writing now, after taking a while to figure out the best direction for the story.

Here's the second part of the previous chapter that has been delayed for a while.

Thanks for reading.

VincenzoZhuxu:
Wow ma’am you’re the very best having been a follows of this masterpiece for years and got back to nairaland yesterday to see the continuation i appreciate your work ma’am one of the few best writers out there now

Thanks so much for these lovely words. It means a lot knowing that you've followed the story all these years!

Thank you.

bigbauer:
@repogirl your silence is concerning. Are you alright?

missviva:
Hi repogirl, hope you’re doing alright?

I'm very fine 😌 Thanks for checking up on me. ♥️

Asek1:
You really tried your best to update us and I feel the level of commitment you have for us.
Thanks a mil for the update.
May your well of ideas never run dry 🙏
Body held till Tuesday 🤠

Awww, thanks so much for this. My readers are the best. 🥹

bigbauer:
@repogirl you posted this at 1 am. Wow, that's a level of commitment to keeping your promise. Dm, let me recharge your line.

I promised to do my best to post, and after keeping you guys waiting for a while, I really wanted to keep my word.

Thanks for recognising the effort. I'll send you a DM. 😌

Chapter 42

Eleven years ago


Mofe had called Ezinne three times before finally giving up.

She had assured him earlier that she was feeling much better, but he had hoped to speak to her again before going to bed. 

When his third call went unanswered, he decided she was probably asleep or had left her phone somewhere. He sent her a brief message asking her to call him when she could, then returned his attention to the programming job he had been struggling to finish.

He had barely settled back into his work when his phone vibrated.

Expecting a reply from Ezinne, he reached for it immediately, only to find a message from an unfamiliar number. There was no greeting or explanation, just a link to what appeared to be a Facebook profile.

Mofe frowned as he examined it. He didn't recognize the number, and he was usually careful about opening links from strangers. For a moment, he considered deleting the message, but curiosity got the better of him. He tapped the link and waited for the page to load.

The profile that appeared belonged to Ekene Ugonna.

Mofe sat up straighter in his chair, his brows drawing together in confusion. He had never visited Ekene's Facebook page before and couldn't imagine why anyone would think he wanted to. He stared at the profile picture for a moment, wondering whether the message had been sent to him by mistake.

Then he began scrolling.

It didn't take long before he saw Ezinne. It was the most recent picture on the profile.

She was standing beside Ekene in a photograph taken at a formal event. Mofe recognized her mint-green evening gown immediately. It was the same dress she had worn to the honorary event held for her father in Lagos, the one she had attended only a few days earlier. She had sent him pictures of herself that evening, and he remembered teasing her about how beautiful she looked and wishing he had been there to see her in person.

But she hadn't mentioned that Ekene was there.

Mofe looked through the other pictures from the event, noticing how often Ekene appeared beside her. Still, he wasn't particularly alarmed. He knew their fathers were friends, and considering that the event had been held in General Onu's honour, it wasn't surprising that Ekene and his family had attended.

What bothered him was what he found farther down the page.

There were several other photographs of Ezinne and Ekene together, taken on different occasions over the past few weeks. Unlike the formal pictures from Lagos, these were casual. Some showed them at restaurants and other outings, while several were selfies Ekene had taken inside his car. In most of them, Ezinne wasn't even looking at the camera. She appeared distracted, either looking out of the window or concentrating on something else, while Ekene smiled as though they were enjoying themselves together.

Mofe's expression hardened as he checked the dates. Some of the pictures had been posted during the period when he and Ezinne were struggling to repair their relationship. Others were more recent, including a few from the previous week.

What the hell was going on?

The last time he had spoken to Ezinne about Ekene, was after he'd sent thugs to rough him up. Ezinne had been furious with him and had vowed to cut off all ties with the guy. It was why she'd orchestrated their brief stay at the guest house that had gotten him in deep shit with her father .

Mofe recalled the morning at his house when he had made her return Ekene's call. She had been reluctant, and irritated with him for making her do it. He had noticed how tense she became during their conversation. At the time, he had assumed she was simply trying to avoid another unpleasant confrontation with her former boyfriend.

Now, he wasn't sure what to believe.

He could understand them attending the same formal events because of their families. He could even understand the occasional unavoidable encounter. But these pictures suggested something more regular. They had apparently been spending time together, going places and moving around Abuja as though nothing unpleasant had ever happened between them.

And Ezinne hadn't mentioned any of it to him.

Mofe leaned back in his chair, feeling his irritation grow. He didn't particularly care what explanation she might have for it. Not at that moment. The fact remained that she had been hanging around with Ekene behind his back, and he couldn't understand why she would do that after everything the man had put her through.

His jaw tightened as he scrolled farther down the page, until another photograph caught his attention.

It had been taken by a professional photographer at what appeared to be a party. Ekene had his arms around Ezinne, and she was returning the embrace. Neither of them was looking at the camera, suggesting that the moment had been captured without their knowledge.

Mofe stared at it, his chest tightening unpleasantly.

He checked the date and discovered that it had been taken during the weeks when he and Ezinne weren't speaking.

He remembered that miserable period all too well. The unbearable distance between them and the uncertainty of not knowing whether she would ever forgive him for what he had done. While he had been struggling with the possibility of losing her, she had apparently been attending parties with Ekene.

Of all the people she could have chosen to spend time with, why him?

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to make sense of it. He wasn't claiming she had no right to see other people while they were apart, but he couldn't understand how she had gone from wanting nothing to do with Ekene to being comfortable enough to embrace him at a party.

Mofe wondered if something had something changed between them. Had she forgiven him for the attack, or was there something else going on that she hadn't wanted him to know about?

His phone vibrated again, and he glanced at the notification, expecting another message from Ezinne, but it was the same unfamiliar number. This time, two photographs had been sent directly to him.

He opened the first one and frowned immediately.

Ezinne was seated at a dining table, eating while talking to another young woman beside her. He recognized the woman from some of the pictures on Ekene's Facebook page, and now that he looked more closely, he noticed a slight resemblance between them.

Was she Ekene's sister?

The setting was Ezinne's dinning room. He knew it because he'd been in her house back when he'd lived next to her and did some things around the house. He could tell the picture had been taken today because he recognized the hairstyle. 

She'd only just made that hairstyle while in Lagos, on the morning of her father's event. And she had only just returned home this afternoon, so that picture had definitely been taken this evening, not long ago probably. Maybe that was why she hadn't been picking his calls. She'd been having dinner.

He opened the second photograph, and for several seconds, his brain couldn't quite piece together what he was looking at.

Ezinne was lying in bed, fast asleep, with the covers drawn over her body. Ekene was right beside her, leaning close enough to fit them both into the picture. He was smiling directly at the camera, one hand raised in a peace sign.

"What the Bleep?"

Mofe sat up sharply, bringing the phone closer to his face.

His stomach dropped as he took in the picture. There was no mistaking either of them, and although he couldn't tell when or where it had been taken, the sight of Ekene beside Ezinne in bed sent a rush of anger through him.

What the hell was Ekene doing there?

He stared at the photograph, trying to understand the circumstances in which it might have been taken. Ezinne appeared completely unaware of the camera, while Ekene looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

The picture made him sick, but what troubled him most was that Ezinne was asleep. Had she even known Ekene was beside her? And if she hadn't, how had he managed to get that close?

Before he could think further, another message appeared.

*She was mine before you, and she will still be mine when you're gone.*

Mofe read the words, his expression darkening as their meaning sank in.

So that was it.

Even if Ekene hadn't personally sent the messages, Mofe was certain he had something to do with them. The photographs and the final message were clearly meant to provoke him, and the reference to his coming departure made the insult even more personal.

Mofe slowly rose from his chair, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. He felt an almost overwhelming urge to call Ekene and demand to know what the hell he thought he was doing. The arrogance of the message was bad enough, but the photograph of him beside Ezinne while she slept made Mofe's blood boil.

He began pacing the small room, trying to control his temper.

Ekene knew he was leaving Nigeria. Somehow, he had found out about Mofe's plans, and from the tone of his message, he was clearly counting on that departure to give him another chance with Ezinne.

The thought made Mofe furious.

Only that morning, he had been holding Ezinne in his arms, listening to her talk about how much she would miss him when he left. She had cried at the thought of their separation, and he had promised her they would find a way to make the distance work.

Now Ekene was confidently declaring that she would belong to him once Mofe was gone.

The nerve of the bastard.

Mofe stopped pacing and looked down at his phone. He wanted answers, and he wanted them immediately. He wanted to know why Ezinne had been spending time with Ekene, why she hadn't told him about it and, most importantly, how the man had managed to get into her bedroom while she slept.

He opened Ezinne's contact, his thumb hovering over the call button.

For several seconds, he remained that way, fighting the urge to press it.

Then he swore under his breath and lowered the phone.

No, not tonight.

He was too angry to have a sensible conversation with her. He knew himself well enough to recognize when his temper was getting the better of him, and right now, he was barely holding it together. If he called Ezinne in this state, he would almost certainly say something hurtful, something he couldn't take back once the anger had passed.

And after everything they had been through to get back together, the last thing he wanted was another argument that might destroy whatever progress they had made.

He thought about the photograph again and felt his temper rise afresh. The temptation to demand an explanation was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to consider the situation carefully.

Ekene had sent those pictures for a reason.

He wanted Mofe angry. He wanted him suspicious, jealous and questioning Ezinne's loyalty. More than anything, he probably wanted Mofe to confront her in the worst possible way, to start an argument that would create another crack in a relationship that had only just managed to not go off the deep end.

He knew how easily that could happen. He wasn't about to do something to jeopardize his relationship simply because Ekene had baited him.

He would be damned if he gave the bastard that satisfaction.

With a deep breath, he closed Ezinne's contact and placed the phone facedown on his desk. He stood there for a moment, both hands resting on the edge of the table as he tried to calm himself.

He would wait until he saw her again.

Then he would ask his questions and give her the chance to explain everything, because regardless of how angry he was, he still believed he owed her that much.

He wasn't going to pretend the pictures didn't bother him, and he certainly wasn't going to forget what he had seen. But whatever was going on between Ezinne and Ekene, he intended to hear it from her rather than allow Ekene to dictate what he believed.

Mofe pulled out his chair and sat down again, staring at the unfinished work on his laptop. He tried to concentrate on the lines of code, but the words on the screen might as well have been written in a language he didn't understand.

He sighed heavily and pushed the laptop aside. There was no point pretending he could get any more work done tonight.

He would keep a level head until he saw Ezinne again. He had to.

Hopefully, he would be able to hold on to his sanity until then.



Kindly use this one hold body first 😅. I'm still working on the rest of the chapter. I should have it ready next Tuesday. Thanks.

Asek1:
Finally am here
Let's keep a date on Friday
Just that the word "hopefully" is doing me somehow

😂 I'll try my best to post an update.

Unsurefuture:
Still waiting please

Now available.

bigbauer:
Happy Holiday. How are you today?

Singing... We're hopeful, yes we're hopeful for today. That the updates are already on their way.

Lol, they're here now.

Mofe watched her for a moment before turning his attention back to the call, taking the call off speaker.

“So, what’s up?” Mofe asked.

" We've finally fixed the date for the board meeting."

"Oh? When?"

"Next week. I need you here, Mofe. There are a few things we need to discuss in person, and the board wants both of us present."

Mofe took a sip of water and placed the glass back on the desk. He had been expecting the call, but hearing William confirm the date brought the reality of the trip closer. He glanced at the calendar on his computer, mentally working through his commitments in Nigeria.

"I'll come," he said. "But I can only stay briefly. I'll attend the meeting, handle whatever needs my attention, and then I'm leaving for Nigeria."

William was quiet for a moment. "You're not even going to stay a few extra days?"

"Nope, I can’t."

"Wow." William chuckled. "Nigeria has really got you by the neck."

Mofe glanced toward Azora, and he smiled faintly. The thought of leaving his family for even a short period made something tighten in his chest. "I have things to take care of here."

"Sure," William replied, his voice becoming more serious. "We'll work around your schedule. Just make sure you show up for the meeting."

"I will."

"Good. Because I don't want to be the one to explain to the board why my business partner has suddenly returned to being a full-time Nigerian."

Mofe laughed, shaking his head. "Very funny, William. I am a full-time Nigerian."

"Well ... we also need you over here."

For a moment, the conversation felt like the old days, when their biggest problems had been difficult clients, boardroom arguments, and the occasional disagreement over company strategy. It was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had been occupying his mind since the incident at Ezinne's house.

"So .. anything else I should know about?" Mofe asked.

"Actually, yes." William's tone changed, and Mofe caught it. "One of the senior engineers sent me an email."

Mofe frowned slightly. "Who?"

"Wei."

Mofe immediately knew what this was about. "What did he say?"

"Apparently he's concerned about the privacy implications of the new update and some of the suggestions you sent through concerning some devices."

Mofe leaned forward, resting one forearm on the desk.

William continued. "Engineer Wei says what you're asking for could make the device susceptible to external hacks."

Mofe's patience thinned as he replied, "This is technology, and we have to plan for every scenario. It's his job to make sure that cannot happen. His concerns are noted; however, he needs to figure it all out."

He knew exactly what he had just asked of them. It wasn't a small assignment, and their teams would probably spend the next two days buried in code, troubleshooting, testing, and trying to find solutions whenever they hit a problem.

They might barely sleep, but he wasn't particularly concerned about that. They were some of the best engineers he had ever worked with, and he paid them accordingly. When he gave them a difficult problem, he expected them to solve it.

He had designed the technology himself. He knew what the devices were capable of, what systems they were running, and where the vulnerabilities were likely to be. He wasn't asking them to tell him whether it was possible. He was telling them to make it happen.

William laughed. "It's a good thing I'm your partner and not one of your engineers."

Mofe shook his head. "Very funny, William."

"I'm serious. I'd rather sit in a board meeting with twenty angry directors than receive one of your emails saying, 'I have an idea.'"

Mofe laughed despite himself. "Then you're in the wrong business."

"I've been saying that for years,” William said jokingly, and they laughed.

They moved on to the board meeting, discussing the agenda and a few decisions that needed to be made while Mofe was in the United States. William brought him up to date on several issues that had developed since his last visit, and Mofe listened while occasionally glancing toward Azora. She was still completely absorbed in her game.

Then William spoke again. "By the way, I saw Eve a few days ago."

Mofe's smile slowly faded. He lowered the glass he had been holding and rested it on the desk, his fingers remaining around it for a moment.

"Where?"

"At an event in New York. She was there with some people from her firm. We spoke for a bit."

A familiar pang of guilt settled in Mofe's chest. He hadn't spoken to Eve since she’d returned his keys, and although he knew she had made the right decision by ending their engagement, that didn't mean he was proud of how things had turned out. She had been a good woman who had given him her time, affection, and trust.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice quieter.

"She looked good. Happy, actually. We talked for a while, and she asked about you."

Mofe looked down at the papers scattered across his desk. "What did you tell her?"

"That you were still in Nigeria."

"And what did she say?" Mofe asked, curious about her response.

William laughed softly. "She smiled."

Mofe frowned. "What kind of smile?"

"The kind of smile that tells you she knows something you haven't told me."

Despite himself, Mofe chuckled. "Come on, you're reading too much into it."

"Am I? Because she looked at me like she knew exactly why you were still there."

Mofe shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He could imagine Eve's expression. She had always been perceptive, and had understood more about his feelings for Ezinne than he had been willing to admit to himself at the time.

William cleared his throat before speaking. "So, tell me something. Are you married or planning to get married while you're over there? Because if you are, I'd appreciate a little warning. I don't want to find out from some random picture on the internet that my friend has become a husband."

Mofe laughed, the sound coming more easily this time. " My God, William, what sort of friend do you take me for? How in the world would I get married without informing you of all people?"

"So, I haven't missed a wedding?"

“ No, William, in fact, you’d be the first to know if I were getting married."

"Would I really?"

Mofe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "William, you already know about Azora. You know I came back to Nigeria and found out I have a daughter."

"Yes, I know that much. I know you've been spending time with her. The pictures you sent were lovely."

Mofe smiled at the memory of the pictures he had sent him, and decided William needed to know a little more.

"Well," Mofe started, "her mother is Ezinne. My ex from Uni. I told you about her years back. We broke up just before I came to the U.S., but I had no idea she was pregnant before I left."

There was a brief silence. "And you are still in love with her," William said.

Mofe didn't bother pretending otherwise. "Yes."

He leaned back in his chair and stared through the glass windows of his office. Beyond them, the city was busy with its usual movement, but his mind was far away, in the quiet house where Ezinne was hopefully beginning to feel safe again.

"I'm trying to mend things between us," he admitted. "It's not easy. We've both been through a lot, and there are things we still need to work out. But I still have feelings for her. I always have; I never really stopped."

William sighed. "And Eve knew."

"She did."

"That's why she ended the engagement?"

Mofe nodded slowly, even though William couldn't see him. "She said she deserved someone who could love her completely. Someone who wasn't still holding on to another woman."

William was quiet for a moment. "Well, I suppose she was right to be honest with you."

"She was." Mofe's voice softened as he thought about Eve. He would always be grateful that she had been honest enough to walk away rather than spend the rest of her life with a man whose heart was divided.

"If I'm being honest, William, I don't know what would have happened if she'd left the decision entirely up to me. I might have gone through with the wedding because I was too proud to admit that I was making a mistake."

William let out a low whistle. "Man... that’s tough."

Mofe gave a small, humourless laugh. "Yeah."

"Well, I have to say, this is precisely why I've chosen to remain single. No wife, no ex-wife, no surprise children, and definitely no complicated love stories."

Mofe laughed, shaking his head. "You won't be saying that when you meet someone who makes you want to throw all your precious bachelor rules out the window."

"Not happening,” William said, doubling down.

"That's what they all say."

"Listen, I like my life exactly the way it is. I wake up when I want, travel when I want, and spend my money on whatever I want. Nobody is going to come and tell me I have to attend a school science fair on a Saturday morning."

Mofe chuckled. "You'd be surprised how much fun those things can be."

"I'll take your word for it."

They both laughed, and for a few seconds, Mofe forgot about the note, the investigation, and the anger that had been simmering beneath his skin.

Then William's voice became more thoughtful.

"Seriously, though. Hang in there. You've got a lot to deal with, and I know it's not going to be easy. If there’s anything I know about women, especially exes, it’s that they make you really work for it."

Mofe smiled faintly. "Yeah, she's making me work very hard for it."

"Good. You deserve it."

Mofe laughed and shook his head. "Thanks for the support, man."

"Anytime, bro.”

They spoke briefly about the board meeting and some pending company matters before William finally said goodbye. Mofe ended the call and placed his phone on the desk.

For a few seconds, he sat quietly, looking at the dark screen. The conversation had reminded him of how much his life had changed in such a short time. A few months ago, he had been living in America, running his company and trying to convince himself that he was ready to marry Eve. Now, he was in Nigeria, trying to rebuild a relationship with the woman he had loved since he was a young man, while learning how to be a father to a ten-year-old daughter.

And somehow, in the middle of all that, someone had decided to threaten Ezinne.

He pushed his chair back and stood, walking toward the windows. He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked out at the city below.

He had been trying to respect Ezinne's space for the past few days. After what happened, at the hotel and then in her own home, she had needed time to recover, and he knew better than to crowd her when she was flustered. He’d been to the house, and every time he saw her, he’d kept his distance. Rachel had assured him that she was beginning to feel better, although the nightmares were still troubling her.

He had wanted to speak to her. More than once, he had picked up his phone to call her, only to put it down again. He didn't want her to feel pressured to talk about anything before she was ready. But he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of staying away. They needed to talk at some point. Staying away from their inevitable discussion wasn’t moving them forward.

Mofe turned from the windows and glanced at the clock. He had a few more reports to go through before he had to get Azora home.

*****************


Next update will be on Friday evening hopefully.

Present Day

Almost a week had passed since the incident, but Ezinne still hadn't completely recovered from the fear that had taken hold of her that evening.

She should have known something was wrong the moment she stepped into her bedroom. She had been hit by the heavy, unmistakable scent of men's perfume, so strong that it had immediately made her uncomfortable. She had hated the smell, but she had tried to explain it away. Perhaps one of the staff had sprayed an air freshener with a similar fragrance without telling her. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had changed something in the room without thinking to mention it to her.

She had managed to push the discomfort aside long enough to change her clothes and wash her face. Then she had sat at the dresser to apply her face cream, still wondering why the strange scent seemed to linger so strongly around her.

That was when she had found the note.

Even now, a week later, the memory made her stomach tighten. She could still remember the strange raised dots beneath her fingertips before Rachel had taken the note and read the message aloud.

You're still my wife.

The words had frightened her deeply.

Ekene was dead. She knew he was.

They had both been pulled from the wreckage of the accident, but before she had lost consciousness, she had known something was terribly wrong with him. He hadn't responded when she called his name. He hadn't moved, and the paramedics had pronounced him dead at the scene.

She had never seen his body.

She hadn't been able to attend his funeral because she had spent weeks in the hospital recovering from her own injuries. By the time she was discharged, Ekene had already been buried, and his family had made it clear that they wanted nothing more to do with her. Somehow, they had blamed her for their son's death.

Even now, Ezinne couldn't understand how they had placed that responsibility on her. She hadn't been the one who made Ekene drink so much that he could barely see. She hadn't been the one who got behind the wheel when he was in no condition to drive. She certainly hadn't been the one who failed to see the parked trailer on the side of the road until it was too late.

Yet she had carried the weight of their hatred for years.

Now, whoever had left that note had dragged all of it back to the surface.

Her nightmares had returned. Some nights, she woke with her heart pounding, disoriented for several seconds before remembering where she was. Other nights, she struggled to fall asleep at all, lying awake and listening to the sounds of the house. She found herself wondering whether every unfamiliar sound was harmless or whether someone might actually be moving around outside her room.

She couldn't understand who could be playing such a cruel trick on her. And that uncertainty was almost as frightening as the note itself.

She was grateful that Rachel was home. Although Rachel went to work during the day, she always returned in the evenings, and since the incident, Ezinne had chosen to sleep in Rachel’s room. Ezinne had been grateful for the company, particularly on the nights when sleep refused to come.

She had asked the staff to have everything cleaned before she would even consider stepping inside again. The bedding had been washed and changed. The furniture and curtains had been thoroughly cleaned, and every trace of the unfamiliar perfume had been removed as far as they could tell.

It hadn't helped, however, Ezinne still couldn't bring herself to sleep there, and part of her doubted she ever would again.

She sighed and shifted against the pillows. There was another thing she should probably be grateful for: Mofe.

He had taken over much of Azora's routine since the incident, giving Ezinne the uninterrupted time she needed to rest. Every morning, he came to the house to pick Azora up for school. When Azora came into Ezinne's room to say goodbye, Mofe usually followed her inside but remained at a respectful distance. He asked Ezinne how she was feeling, whether she had taken her medication and whether she needed anything, but their conversations never lasted very long.

In the afternoons, he picked Azora up from school and kept her with him, either at his office or the hotel, finding ways to keep their daughter occupied until evening. He returned her home around the time Rachel came back from work.

Ezinne appreciated what he was doing. She knew he was worried about her, and having Azora occupied allowed her to rest without feeling guilty that she wasn't giving her daughter enough attention.

But Mofe was distant.

He no longer lingered when he came to the house. He didn't tease her or draw her into the easy conversations they had fallen into before the incident. His voice remained gentle whenever he spoke to her, but there was a careful restraint in it, as though he was deliberately keeping himself from stepping too close. Even when he came into her room with Azora, Ezinne could sense the space he maintained between them.

She couldn't decide whether his distance relieved her or hurt her.

Her mind kept returning to the evening at the hotel, particularly to the moment she had accused him of blurring the lines between them. She had been right. She had blurred them herself, and she knew it. When she had asked Mofe to make love to her, she hadn't been confused about what she was doing. She had wanted him, and more than that, she had wanted him to understand that despite everything she had said and every boundary she had tried to maintain, her feelings for him had not disappeared.

What she hadn't anticipated was the silence afterward.
She had expected something from him. Not necessarily a grand declaration or a promise, but some indication that the night had meant something to him beyond the physical intimacy they had shared. She had taken the risk of showing him how deeply she wanted him, hoping he would meet her there and tell her what was in his heart.

Instead, he had said very little.

And when he had asked what was going through her mind, she hadn't been able to tell him the truth. She couldn't explain that she was frightened by how easily she had fallen back into the familiar comfort of loving him. She didn't know whether she was falling in love with him all over again or whether, somewhere beneath all the anger and hurt, she had never stopped. And perhaps what frightened her most was the possibility that allowing herself to love him again could lead them straight back into another painful chapter of their lives.

They had already lost ten years. They had a daughter now.

Their relationship was still fragile, built on years of things neither of them had fully healed from. Ezinne didn't know if they were strong enough to survive another heartbreak, and she certainly didn't want anything to threaten the fragile relationship they had managed to build with Azora at the centre of it.

Those were the things she should have told him. Instead, she had pulled away.

For all the times she had accused Mofe of being crafty and not being honest with her, she was beginning to see how much she had been hiding behind her own silence. She wanted him to make his intentions clear while she kept her own heart carefully guarded, waiting for him to take the first step.

Part of her had even tried to convince herself that it was his responsibility. Wasn't the man supposed to take the lead? Wasn't Mofe supposed to tell her what he wanted and decide where their relationship should go?


Ezinne frowned. It was a ridiculous argument, and she knew it.

This was the twenty-first century. She was perfectly capable of saying what she wanted and making her own choices. She had built a life for herself, raised a daughter and survived circumstances that had forced her to become stronger than she had ever imagined. She didn't need Mofe to take charge of her life or decide what their relationship should become.

What she wanted was for him to make his feelings clear so that she could decide whether she was brave enough to risk hers.

And that was the part she couldn't admit aloud. She was afraid.

Not of Mofe himself, but of what loving him again could mean. She was afraid of losing the balance they had finally found, of confusing Azora, of reopening old wounds and discovering that the love between them wasn't strong enough to survive a second time.

Ezinne sighed and shook her head.

The doctor had told her to rest, to take her medication and, most importantly, to stop worrying about things she couldn't control. Yet here she was, lying in bed and trying to solve a problem that had no simple answer. Thinking about it wasn't going to make the decision any easier.

For now, all she could do was admit the one thing she had been trying hardest not to admit to herself. She wanted Mofe. She simply wasn't sure she was ready to risk everything that came with wanting him.

She shook her head and sank farther into the pillows.

The doctor had told her to rest and not spend her time thinking about things that would only increase her anxiety.And here she was, doing exactly that.

She reached for the glass of water beside her bed and took a slow sip before setting it down.

Thinking and worrying wouldn't solve anything. For now, she needed to recover, return to work and try to understand who had been in her room that night.

Everything else could wait. At least, she hoped it could.


***
Since the strange occurrence at Ezinne's house, Mofe had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he found himself thinking about the note, the perfume, and how terrified Ezinne looked when he’d found her cowering in the corner of her bedroom. He could still hear the fear in her voice when she had told him what she smelt, how she had insisted that Ekene had been in the room, even though everyone knew that horrible man was dead.

And then there was the message. You're still my wife!

The words had been written in Braille, which meant whoever had left it knew how to communicate with a blind person. It wasn't some random prank by a stranger who had wandered into the wrong house. Whoever had done it knew Ezinne, and that bothered him more than anything else.

Someone had deliberately set out to scare her.

He had spent the last two days going over every possible explanation, but none of them made sense.

He had gone as far as calling her father to confirm Ekene’s death. The chief had been surprised by Mofe’s question but had told him in plain words that Ekene was dead. The chief confirmed he’d been the one to identify the body at the morgue even before Ekene’s parents had arrived.

So who would want to frighten Ezinne? And why?

He had watched the day’s security recordings so many times that he could almost recite the guests' movements from memory. The garden party hadn’t exactly been crowded. People had moved between the garden, the living room, and the rest of the house. Several guests had gone inside to use the restroom, and there had been enough movement for someone to slip upstairs unnoticed.

He had no way of knowing who had entered Ezinne's bedroom.

The security cameras didn't cover every part of the house, and whoever did it might have known exactly where the blind spots were. That possibility made him even angrier.

He dragged a hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. The morning after the incident, he had engaged the private investigation and security firm he used, giving them instructions to conduct thorough background checks on everyone who had attended the party, as well as the household staff. His Aunt, Rachel, Maureen, Eric and Dara were the only people he had excluded. He trusted them. Everyone else was fair game.

He wanted to know where they had worked, who they associated with, whether they had any criminal records, financial problems, or unusual connections. He wanted them to look into old relationships, former employees, family members, and anyone who might have had a reason to target Ezinne.

The investigators had promised to get back to him as soon as they found something useful, but so far, nothing had surfaced.

Mofe's fingers curled around the armrest of his chair. He had made it clear that he wasn't interested in a superficial report. He wanted the investigators to dig deeper, even if it meant going back years. Whoever had done this had deliberately frightened a woman who had already been through more than enough in her life, and he wasn't going to let it go.

He sat behind his desk, reading through the latest report while Azora worked at the sitting area on the other side of his office. It had become their routine.

He picked her up from school in the afternoons, and they returned to his office together. Someone from the hotel’s kitchen arranged a healthy lunch for her, usually something she actually enjoyed eating rather than the food adults thought children should enjoy, and while she ate, Mofe continued working.

Once lunch was finished, Azora settled at the small table near the sitting area with her schoolbooks.

Homework rarely gave her much trouble. Most days, she finished it before he expected her to, and whenever she came across something she wasn't sure about, she simply walked over to his desk and asked. Mofe would pause whatever he was doing, explain it to her, and then return to his work while she went back to her books.

He liked having her there. There was something reassuring about looking up from a business report and seeing his daughter sitting nearby, bent over her schoolwork, completely absorbed in whatever she was doing.

At the moment, she had finished her homework and was playing a game on her tablet. Her Bits headphones covered her ears, and the occasional movement of her fingers across the screen was the only indication that she was paying attention to anything other than the game.

He turned back to his laptop to see a new email had arrived from one of his senior engineers, Arjun Malhotra. He opened it.

Earlier he’d sent instructions to his lead engineering team regarding the devices and had already begun assessing the updates he had requested. The engineers had also responded with several technical suggestions of their own, along with possible ways of improving the capabilities he wanted incorporated.

Mofe read through the message carefully, and a few of the suggestions gave him ideas of his own.

He opened a new email and began typing. He added several changes he wanted them to consider, then attached the relevant specifications and sent the message with a short instruction to begin work immediately.

He didn't want the project sitting in someone's inbox until the next business day. He wanted progress now.

His phone began ringing before he had even closed the email. William.

Mofe picked it up and answered, putting it on speaker. "Hey, man."

"Finally," William said. "I was starting to think you had forgotten you owned a company."

Mofe smiled faintly. "I haven't forgotten, William. What a thing to say."

Azora looked up at the sound of his voice. Mofe turned his chair slightly toward her and gestured with the phone.

"It's William." he told her.

Azora pulled one side of her headphones away from her ear. "Hi, Uncle William."

William's voice immediately brightened through the phone. "Hey, princess. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"What are you doing?"

"Playing."

"Of course you are."

Azora smiled, slipped the headphone back over her ear, and returned to her game.

"Of course I do." Chief Damian laughed again. "When you work hard and you deserve something, you should be able to reward yourself. She didn't even buy a house. She stayed in a hotel for two nights."

Ezinne smiled faintly, relieved that the attention had shifted, but she couldn’t keep her gaze from straying to Ekene. He was still watching her, but something in his expression had changed.

It wasn't anger. It wasn't jealousy. It was something quieter, something she couldn't immediately identify, and the longer she looked at him, the more uneasy she became.

Then the faintest smile touched his lips. It wasn't a warm smile. It was knowing.

Ezinne's stomach tightened.

He knows. The thought came suddenly, with such force that she almost dropped her fork.

She didn't know how, but she was suddenly certain that Ekene knew she hadn't spent those two nights with Dara. He knew she had been with Mofe.

Her fingers tightened around the fork. For one frightening moment, she felt as if the room had become too warm. Had someone seen them? Had someone told him? Had he somehow discovered where she had really been?

Ekene didn't say anything. He simply picked up his drink and took a sip, his expression almost amused.

If he had confronted her, she would at least have known exactly what he knew. But this silence, the knowing look in his eyes and the faint amusement at the corner of his mouth left too much room for her imagination.

She forced herself to look away.

."Besides," he added casually, "I'm preparing a gift for Ezinne too."

She looked at him sharply. "A gift?"

"Yes." He said as his smile widened. "You'll see."

Something about the way he said it made her skin prickle. It didn't sound like a gift. It sounded like a warning.

Chief Damian was speaking again. "We need to discuss what’s next for you, Ezinne. Have you thought about what you want to do after school?"

She turned her attention back to him. "A little."

"You should come and work with me."

Ezinne's heart sank. She glanced instinctively at Ekene, who was still eating as though the conversation had nothing to do with him.

Chief Damian continued, unaware of her discomfort. "My company is expanding. We have several new projects coming up, and I could use someone young who understands the new way of doing things."

"That's very kind of you, sir."

"I'm serious." He smiled warmly. "Come and spend some time with us. See how things work. If you like it, you can stay."

Ezinne smiled politely, although inside she was already cringing at the thought. Working in Chief Damian's company meant working in the same company as Ekene.

The last thing she wanted was to spend her days walking into an office where she would have to see him, deal with him and wonder what he might do with whatever he knew about Mofe.

She glanced at her father, hoping perhaps he would discourage the idea. Instead, General Onu nodded.

"That's not a bad idea,” her father said in agreement.

Ezinne forced another smile. "I'll consider it."

Chief Damian smiled broadly. "Good. That's all I'm asking."

He turned towards General Onu. "You see? We're already planning her career."

Everyone laughed, and even Ezinne managed a small laugh.

She wanted to enjoy the warmth of the moment. She really did. Her father was sitting with an old friend, Zara was beside her, Chief Damian was fussing over her graduation, and for a few minutes the house felt like the home she remembered from years ago.

But underneath that warmth was a growing uneasiness. She couldn't stay at the table anymore. She needed some space.

She placed her fork down gently and looked towards her father. "Daddy, I just remembered I need to get a bottle of water from the fridge."

Her father looked at her. "Now?"

"Yes." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I'll be right back."

Chief Damian waved his hand. "Go, go. But come back and eat."

"I will." Ezinne pushed her chair back and stood.

She deliberately avoided looking at Ekene as she walked away, but she could feel his eyes following her.

She had barely reached the kitchen when Zara appeared behind her. "I'll help you."

Ezinne turned and smiled. "Thank you."

They walked into the kitchen together, and Zara went straight towards the refrigerator while Ezinne leaned against the counter.

As Zara opened the fridge, she suddenly said, "I also have good news, you know?”

Ezinne looked at her. "Really, what?"

"I got admission."

Ezinne's face brightened immediately. "Really?"

Zara nodded, her face breaking into a wide smile. "Yes. One of the top universities in Canada."

"Canada?" Ezinne exclaimed.

"Yes."

Ezinne's surprise turned into genuine delight. She crossed the small distance between them and wrapped her arms around Zara.

"Oh, wow, Zara! And you’re just telling me? Congratulations!"

Zara laughed as she hugged her back. "I'm so happy."

"You should be. That's wonderful news." Ezinne told her.

"I'm leaving soon, in about two weeks."

Ezinne pulled away and held her by the shoulders. "I'm really happy for you. You deserve it."

Zara smiled warmly. "I'll miss everyone here, though."

"You'll make new friends, Don’t worry."

"I know."

Zara took out two bottles of water and handed one to Ezinne before closing the refrigerator. She watched Ezinne for a moment, and her expression slowly changed.

"There is just one more thing that would make me really happy before I leave."

Ezinne immediately became suspicious. "What?"

"If you and Ekene got back together."

Ezinne's smile faded slightly. Had Ekene put her up to this? "Zara..."

"I'm serious."

Ezinne sighed softly. "I know."

Zara leaned against the counter and looked at her hopefully. "He really misses you, Ezinne. You may not believe me, but he does."

Ezinne looked down at the bottle of water in her hand. She didn't want to hurt Zara. She had always liked her, and there was something genuinely affectionate about the way Zara spoke about her brother. But there were some truths she couldn't share with her. Not about the guy she was deeply in love with, Mofe. Not about all the things Ekene had done while they’d been together. And certainly not about the fear she still felt whenever she remembered his temper.

She lifted her eyes and gave Zara a gentle smile. "Ekene and I just aren't compatible."

Zara frowned. "Not even a little?"

Ezinne shook her head. "We tried, Zara. We really did." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Sometimes two people can care about each other and still not be right for each other."

Zara watched her quietly. "So there's no chance?"

Ezinne smiled softly. "No, Zara. There isn't."

She said it gently because she didn't want to hurt her, but there was no hesitation in her answer. Her heart had already chosen.

When Ezinne returned to the dining room with the bottle of water in her hand, she immediately noticed that Ekene was no longer at the table.

She paused for a moment before taking her seat. The relief she felt was almost embarrassing.

She hadn't realized how tense she had been while he was sitting across from her until she no longer had to feel his eyes on her. She had spent the entire time trying not to think about the knowing looks he had given her, wondering whether he truly knew that she’d been with Mofe at the hotel or whether she had simply allowed her fear to make too much of an ordinary expression.

She settled into her chair and quietly opened the bottle of water. For the first time since she had come downstairs, she felt as though she could breathe normally.

Zara sat beside her and continued talking about Canada, telling her about the university, the city and how nervous she was about leaving home.

"You'll be fine," Ezinne assured her. "You're going to love it."

"I hope so." Zara smiled. "I'm excited, but I'm also scared."

"That's normal. You'll settle in."

They continued talking while the others ate, and gradually Ezinne found herself enjoying the conversation. It was easier without Ekene there. She could listen to Zara without constantly wondering what was going through his mind.

Then she heard footsteps approaching, and her body stiffened before she even looked up. Ekene walked back into the dining room. He wasn't heading towards his seat immediately. He had his phone in one hand, and there was something almost casual about his expression.

Ezinne watched him warily until he stopped beside her.

"I went to take a call upstairs," he said, before holding out his hand. "I heard your phone ringing in your room, so I picked it up and brought it down for you."

For a second, Ezinne simply stared at him, and then at her phone in his hand.

A strange uneasiness settled in her stomach.

She hadn't heard it ringing. She had left it in her room when she went downstairs, assuming she wouldn't need it.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She reached for it, and Ekene handed it to her, their fingers almost touching.

Ezinne quickly pulled the phone towards herself.

"You're welcome," he said.

There was nothing unusual about his words. Yet something about the situation made her uncomfortable.

She lowered her eyes and unlocked the phone. Ekene could have easily accessed her phone. He knew her password since the time they’d been dating. She had not changed it since then but made a mental note to do so.

There were four missed calls. Her heart skipped. Mofe.

She stared at his name on the screen, suddenly feeling a rush of warmth through her chest, followed almost immediately by panic.

Why had he called so many times? Was something wrong? Had he been worried because she hadn't answered? She instinctively looked up.

Ekene was already watching her, and their eyes met again.

Ezinne couldn't read his expression, but she didn't like the way he was looking at her. It reminded her of the expression he'd worn earlier when she had been explaining the hotel bill.

It was that same quiet amusement, and same unsettling certainty. Then Ekene smiled.

Ezinne's stomach tightened. She hated that smile. It wasn't the smile of someone who had simply returned a phone to its owner.

She quickly looked back down at her phone, her fingers tightening around it.

"Everything okay?" Zara asked beside her.

Ezinne forced herself to smile, as she spared a brief glance at Zara. "Yes. It's fine."

But her attention was no longer on their conversation. She was staring at Mofe's missed calls while trying to ignore the feeling that Ekene had just handed her more than her phone.

He had handed her a warning. And she had no idea yet what he intended to do with it.

**********

Chapter 41

Eleven Years Ago


The smell of food was what finally pulled Ezinne out of sleep.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking into the darkness of her room. For several seconds, she remained still, trying to understand what had woken her. The house was quiet, but somewhere downstairs she could hear the faint clinking of plates and the murmur of voices. Then her stomach growled, and she placed a hand over it with a sleepy smile. She was hungry.

She had barely eaten since leaving the hotel. After returning home that afternoon, she had changed into something comfortable and climbed into bed, intending to rest for an hour or two. Instead, sleep had taken hold of her completely. She had been exhausted, although she wasn't entirely sure whether it was from the long days leading up to her graduation or from the two nights she had spent with Mofe.

The thought of him brought a small smile to her face.

She remembered waking up beside him that morning, neither of them wanting to get out of bed. She remembered his arms around her, the warmth of his body, the lazy conversations they had shared between kisses and the way they had both tried not to think too much about his coming departure. The memory made her smile again, but it faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.

She didn't want to think about that tonight. Right now, she just wanted food.

She pushed herself out of bed, slipped her feet into her slippers and left her room. As she made her way down the hallway, the smell grew stronger. Something rich and spicy filled the air, and her stomach responded immediately. She followed the scent towards the kitchen, but as she reached the staircase, she heard voices coming from the living room.

Her father's voice was unmistakable.

She slowed down. He was back from Lagos.

Before she could decide whether to go straight to the kitchen or greet him first, another voice floated through the living room, followed by a loud, familiar laugh.

Ezinne stopped. She knew that voice.

Ekene.

For a moment, she considered turning around and going back upstairs. She hadn't expected to see him tonight, and after everything that had happened in Lagos, she certainly wasn't prepared to deal with him so soon. But then she heard another burst of laughter from the living room, followed by her father's voice, and she remembered that whoever was there were guests in her father's home. It would be rude to walk past without greeting them.

With a quiet sigh, she continued down the stairs.

The moment she stepped into the spacious living room, she stopped. Ekene was seated at the dining table with his father, and Zara was there too. Her surprise must have shown because Zara immediately pushed back her chair.

"Ezinne!" She jumped up and ran towards her, pulling her into a hug before Ezinne had much opportunity to react. "Congratulations!"

Ezinne laughed softly and returned the hug. "Thank you."

"You did it, Ezinne!" Zara pulled back and held her by the shoulders, looking her over with obvious pride. "You’re now our graduate."

Ezinne smiled. "Yes. Finally."

When Zara released her, Ezinne's eyes moved briefly to Ekene, to see him watching her. Their eyes met, and something unreadable passed through his expression before the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

Ezinne immediately looked away, turning her attention to Chief Damian Ugonna, Ekene's father. He was an average-height, light-skinned man with a broad, expressive face and an energy that made him seem much larger than he actually was. He had an energetic presence that seemed to fill whatever room he occupied. He and her father had been friends since childhood, and unlike her father, who could be quiet and intimidating when he wanted to be, Ekene's father was extremely extroverted and loud.

He had once contested for governor of their state and, although he had lost the election, he had come a close second. He had never allowed the loss to diminish his confidence. He still spoke with the ease of a man who expected people to listen whenever he opened his mouth.
still considered himself a force to be reckoned with.

He looked at Ezinne and broke into a wide smile.

"Ah! Our graduate."

Ezinne smiled politely. "Good evening, sir."

"Come here."

She stepped closer to him, and he patted her shoulder lightly.

"Congratulations, my dear. Jisike."

"Thank you, sir."

He nodded approvingly. "You have done very well."

"Thank you." She turned towards her father. "Good evening, Daddy."

General Onu looked at her for a moment before answering. "Good evening." His eyes moved over her face. "You have been sleeping since I came back."

There was something in his tone that made Ezinne straighten slightly. Their relationship was still strained, and although she had learned to be careful around him, she had no desire to be disrespectful.

"Yes, Daddy. I was tired."

"Tired?"

She nodded. "I've barely rested these past few days."

Her father gave her a searching look. "That is why you slept through the afternoon?"

"Yes."

He said nothing, but the look remained on his face.

Chief Damian laughed and waved a hand. "Leave the girl alone, General. She just graduated. Let her sleep."

Ezinne smiled gratefully at him before her eyes drifted towards the dining table. There was enough food spread across it to feed twice the number of people sitting there. Bottles of wine stood among cans of soft drinks, while plates of small chops, steaming bowls of pepper soup, nkwuobi, jollof rice, fried rice, and several different salads covered almost every available space.

Her stomach rumbled again. She hoped nobody heard it, but unfortunately, her father did.
"You are hungry?" Her father asked.

"A little."

"Then sit down and eat."

Ezinne hesitated. "I was actually going to the kitchen."

"You can eat here."

She looked at the table, then at Ekene.

He was already looking at her. His expression was calm, almost casual, but there was something about being watched by him that made her uncomfortable. Still, refusing her father's invitation in front of his guests would only make things awkward.

"Okay." She pulled out a chair and sat down reluctantly. Zara returned to her seat beside her, while Ezinne reached for a can of soft drink.

For a few minutes, the conversation remained pleasant. Chief Damian asked about her graduation and teased General Onu about how quickly his little girl had grown into a young woman.

"General, your daughter has grown into a beautiful young woman," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I remember when she was still running around your compound."

Ezinne smiled. "That was a long time ago."

"Very long time ago. Now look at her. University graduate,” Chief Damian beamed.

"Thank you, sir."

"You should be proud of her."

General Onu nodded. "I am."

The simple words caught Ezinne slightly off guard. She looked at him, and for a brief moment the tension that had existed between them seemed to soften. Her father's relationship with her had been strained for a while now, and recently, they rarely had moments when affection or pride was expressed openly. Hearing him say he was proud of her touched something deep inside her.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

He gave her a brief nod before returning his attention to the food.

The conversation continued, and Ezinne slowly relaxed. They talked about her graduation, her friends and what she intended to do next. Chief Damian told a funny story about his own university days that had Zara laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink, and even General Onu smiled.

For a few minutes, sitting there with her father, Zara and Chief Damian, Ezinne experienced a small, unexpected feeling of contentment. It reminded her of the easier days when family gatherings had felt warm and uncomplicated.

Then her father said casually, "By the way, I saw the hotel charge."

The fork in Ezinne's hand stopped halfway to her mouth, and her heart gave a hard little thud.

She slowly lowered the fork. "What hotel charge?"

Her father looked directly at her. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

Chief Damian looked between them. "What hotel?"

General Onu leaned back slightly, looking towards Chief Damian, as he explained. "My daughter stayed in a high-end hotel for two nights."

Ezinne swallowed. "Daddy..."

"Two nights," he repeated, his tone controlled but unmistakably displeased. "And the entire bill came up to almost a thousand dollars."

Zara's eyes widened, while Chief Damian let out a low whistle.

Heat rose into Ezinne's face. She had known her father would eventually see the charge, but she hadn't expected him to bring it up at the dinner table, especially with Ekene and his father present.

"It was just a treat," she said, trying to sound casual.

"A treat?" Her father asked, staring at her.

"Yes."

"For almost a thousand dollars?"

Ezinne kept her voice calm. "Dara and I wanted to splurge a little before graduation. We've just finished university, Daddy. We wanted to enjoy ourselves."

Her father stared at her. "That is how you describe spending that kind of money?"

Ezinne could feel the irritation building in his voice. She kept her own voice respectful. "Daddy, it was just a treat. I don't do things like that all the time."

General Onu's expression hardened slightly. "You could have enjoyed yourself without spending that much money."

"I … I understand."

"No, I don't think you do."

Before Ezinne could say anything else, Ekene spoke. "I don't think there's anything wrong with it."

Ezinne turned towards him. For a moment, she was genuinely surprised. Of all the people at the table, Ekene was the last person she expected to defend her.

Ekene shrugged, casually reaching for another piece of small chops. "Girls should be allowed to spoil themselves once in a while. Especially after graduating. They deserve to celebrate."

Ezinne's surprise deepened. She couldn't understand why he was supporting her. Ekene had never been particularly generous towards her decisions when he thought she was being reckless, and considering everything that had happened between them, she certainly hadn't expected him to come to her rescue now.


He leaned back in his chair, appearing completely at ease. Then he turned to her and winked conspiratorially before saying, "They're young. Let them enjoy themselves."

He had actually winked at her, and Ezinne was taken aback. Was this part of what he meant when he said he would cover for her? She wondered.

General Onu frowned. "Almost a thousand dollars, Ekene."

Ekene shrugged. " Yes, but it was a treat and she said it herself that she doesn’t do that often.”

Chief Damian laughed. "That's my son."

He pointed his fork towards Ezinne’s father. “Leave these children alone. Your daughter has just graduated. Let her enjoy herself."

General Onu shook his head. "You encourage them too much."

My sincere apologies for the delay. The story continues now.

GoodyMG:
waiting patiently oooo, its getting so interesting

Please remain patient for a little longer

bigbauer:
Did you mean next week's Tuesday or today's Tuesday?

😅

Hello guys, sorry I couldn't meet up with today's post. I'm still working on the chapter. It will be posted on Thursday hopefully 🤞🏽

froze6:
Was about to say baby no 2 on the way, the last part i was like Whaaaaa.

😂

sal1974:
Ahhh, what a plot twist! 😂😂 I absolutely did NOT see that coming! Another masterstroke from the undisputed Queen of Suspense 👑🔥. Now you’ve officially left us hanging till Tuesday like we have no lives! 😂🍿 Tuesday, please hurry up—I need to see how this drama unfolds!

you'll survive till then, don't worry

missviva:
Jesussssssssssss😳😳😳

What did I just read??

E shock you

See y'all on Tuesday.

Chapter 40 contd.


The drive back was completely different from the one that had taken them to the hotel.

Earlier, anger had sat between them. Now there was something worse. Confusion.

Ezinne sat in the back as Mofe drove carefully, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as he struggled to keep his emotions under control.

He kept replaying everything.

Her tears. The way she'd curled against him. The warmth of her body. The way she'd kissed him as though she had been starving for exactly what they'd shared.

Then that sudden, brutal shift.

He knew something had happened while they lay there. He just couldn't work out what. And beneath his confusion was hurt.

He couldn't pretend otherwise. Hearing her call their lovemaking a mistake had cut deeper than he wanted to admit because nothing about it had felt like a mistake to him.

If anything, being with her again had reminded him far too clearly why losing her the first time had nearly broken him.

He had forgotten how addictive they were together. How quickly touching her made him want more of her. How even afterward, when desire had settled into something softer, he still wanted her just as badly, only differently.

Behind him, Ezinne sat with her cane laid across her lap and both hands wrapped around it. She was miserable for an entirely different reason.

Some stubborn part of her had wanted Mofe to stop her before things reached this point. Not physically. She wanted words. She wanted him to say what the night meant.

She had wanted him to tell her that making love had changed something between them. That he wanted to explore whatever had been growing between them instead of continuing with this confusing arrangement where he loved her, kissed her, slept with her, and yet neither of them dared to name what they were.

Instead, he had held her in silence. And she'd interpreted that silence as hesitation. Perhaps rejection.

Now she was too proud to ask. By the time the car pulled up outside the house, the silence between them felt almost solid.

Ezinne opened her door. “I can manage from here.”

Mofe got down from his side almost immediately. “Good to know.”

She heard his door close and frowned. “Then why are you getting out?”

“Because I'm coming inside.”

“Mofe.”

He walked around the vehicle, and Ezinne sighed in frustration. “You really don't listen.”

“I listen. I just don't always obey.”

His hand settled lightly against her elbow as they walked toward the house. Ezinne wanted to insist she didn't need the assistance, but exhaustion had replaced most of her anger, and she simply let him walk beside her.

The house was quiet when they entered.

Rachel was curled into the corner of the living-room sofa with the television playing softly in front of her. She turned at the sound of the door.

Her gaze immediately moved over them. Ezinne first. Then Mofe. Then back to Ezinne, and then her eyebrows rose.

“Oh.”

Mofe stopped. “What does ‘oh’ mean?”

He had little patience right now, and he really didn't want to transfer his annoyance onto Rachel. So he managed to put a lid on his temper, pending the answer she would give.

Rachel calmly reached for the remote and muted the television. “Nothing.”

“That wasn't nothing,” he said.

“It was nothing, Mofe. I was just surprised you two finally decided to return home.”

Mofe stared at her suspiciously before glancing toward the stairs.

“Where's Azora?”

“Sleeping. For about thirty minutes now.”

He checked his watch and frowned. “Already?”

Rachel laughed softly. “After everything she did with that helicopter? She was practically falling asleep during dinner.”

Mofe's expression lightened slightly. “Did the helicopter survive?”

“Somehow, it actually did.”

“Wow, that's actually surprising.”

Beside him, Ezinne, who had been quiet, adjusted her grip on the cane. “I'm going upstairs.”

Rachel looked toward her immediately. “Have you eaten?”

“I'm fine.”

“It will just take me a minute to…”

“I don't want anything.”

Rachel studied her for a second. “Ezinne—”

“I'm tired, Rachel.”

There was no sharpness in her voice now, only exhaustion.

Rachel seemed to hear it too because she didn't push again. “Okay.”

Ezinne started toward the stairs.

Mofe remained where he was, watching her carefully until she disappeared from sight.

He sighed before turning toward the door. “I'm heading back, Rachel.”

“No, you're not,” Rachel said, already getting up from the sofa.

He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“You're staying.”

“Rachel… I'm done for today, I…” he began with the excuses, but she waved them off.

“I made something earlier that I think you should try.”

Mofe glanced toward the stairs, then back at her. “At this hour?”

“Yes. Don't worry, it's nothing heavy.”

Her expression was far too innocent.

Mofe narrowed his eyes as he asked, “This has absolutely nothing to do with food, does it?”

Rachel smiled sweetly, pointing toward the dining area. “Sit down, Mofe.”

With a resigned sigh, he followed Rachel into the spacious dining area, still carrying the uncomfortable weight of everything that had happened upstairs in the penthouse and during the drive back.

He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down heavily, resting his forearms against the table as Rachel disappeared toward the kitchen. For a while, he simply stared at the polished surface in front of him, replaying Ezinne's words in his head.

I blurred the lines …. We should never have had sex.

He rubbed both hands over his face and released a slow breath.

Maybe Ezinne had woken up, and just realized what they had done, and regretted it.

The thought settled badly in his chest, and he leaned back in his chair and stared toward the staircase.

Maybe she had only wanted comfort and familiarity in the moment and had only realized afterward how much history came attached to sleeping with him again.

Still, the sudden hostility didn't make sense. She had been crying in his arms minutes before. She had told him she had missed being cared for. Then somehow, everything had changed.

Mofe frowned. What the hell had he done? Or not done?

Her words afterward kept circling back. I blurred the lines.

Mofe leaned back slowly and rubbed a hand over his jaw.

He knew Ezinne well enough now to understand that those words were not really about boundaries.

Maybe they were about fear. Lately she had been allowing him through her defenses little by little. These days she trusted him more than she had when he first returned. She laughed with him more easily and even teased him back sometimes. She let him touch her, comfort her, disagree with her without immediately shutting him out.

He didn't want one emotionally charged night to make her feel that she had lost control of something she had been carefully managing.

His gaze returned to the staircase.

Maybe she was upstairs already regretting how much she had revealed to him. Maybe she was embarrassed by the tears, by telling him about Ekene, by admitting that she had missed being cared for. Or perhaps waking in his arms had simply made everything between them feel too real too quickly.

He realized he was going through a lot of different 'maybes', and he wasn't sure he had found the right one.

Damn, he wished she’d just told him what was really on her mind. Not because he needed reassurance, but because he hated the thought of her sitting alone upstairs, turning everything over in her head and making herself afraid of something that had felt so right only a short while earlier.

He also knew he couldn't follow her up there and demand answers.

Ezinne needed room when she was like this. He had learned that the hard way. Pushing her now would only make her protect herself more fiercely. Instead of answers, he'd get insults and anger. He really didn't want to have that tonight.

So he would give her space. For tonight, at least.

But the concern remained, quiet and heavy beneath his ribs.

Because what had happened between them hadn't confused Mofe at all. It had clarified something he had already been trying not to say too loudly, even to himself.

He didn't only want Ezinne close. He wanted her to feel safe enough to talk to him.

The smell of food reached him before Rachel returned.

Something rich and spicy drifted out from the kitchen, and despite his mood, Mofe's stomach tightened immediately, and his appetite returned.

He suddenly realized how hungry he was, and he knew Ezinne was also probably starving.

Rachel came back carrying a tray with a large bowl of steaming chicken broth, several warm dinner rolls, and a smaller dish of butter. The broth was dark and heavily seasoned, with pieces of chicken, vegetables, and herbs floating beneath the surface.

Mofe looked at the bowl as she placed it in front of him.

“Smells really good. Ezinne will also need to eat, I'm sure she's presently regretting refusing your offer for dinner.” he told Rachel. Who wouldn't? The spicy and delicious aroma was enough to resurrect dead taste buds.

Rachel nodded. “I know. I'll have someone take a tray up to her room. You guys left the party before you really had anything to eat.”

“Yeah … I didn't know how hungry I was until I smelt it,” Mofe said as he picked up the spoon.

Rachel settled into the chair opposite him with a glass of juice and crossed one leg over the other. She said nothing at first, which Mofe appreciated. He tore off a piece of the dinner roll, dipped it into the broth, and took the first bite.

The soup was hot enough to make him pause. Then the spice hit.

His brows rose. “Okay.”

Rachel smiled over the rim of her glass. “Good?”

“Very.”

“I know.”

Mofe shook his head and took another spoonful.

For the next minute or so, the only sounds between them were the faint clink of his spoon against the bowl and the television playing quietly from the sitting room.

Then Rachel asked, far too casually, “Well … did you guys find whatever it was that Ezinne needed?”

Mofe inhaled at exactly the wrong moment, and the broth went down badly.

He choked.

Rachel immediately leaned forward. “Mofe? You good?”

He lifted one hand while coughing hard, grabbing the glass of water beside him with the other.

“I'm fine.” He managed to say between coughs.

“You don't sound fine,” Rachel said, looking at him with concern.

Mofe took a long drink and glared at her over the rim.

Rachel's lips twitched.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused.

“I asked a question,” she said, trying to look innocent.

“You waited until I had this your extra spicy soup in my mouth.”

“Coincidence,” she said with a shrug before smiling and leisurely sipping her juice.

“Yeah, right!” he said, not buying it for a moment.

Mofe placed the glass down and cleared his throat, buying himself another few seconds. What exactly was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to answer her mischievous question?

Yes, Rachel. We left your welcome-home party because Ezinne was furious with me, then somehow ended up naked in my hotel bed and afterwards decided the entire thing was a mistake.

He rubbed his thumb slowly against the side of his spoon.

“We… talked.”

Rachel's eyebrows lifted. “That isn't what I asked.”

Mofe gave her a warning look. “Well… It's the only answer that you're getting.”

She smiled knowingly, and Mofe could see she knew there was more to the story. She'd seen them when they'd arrived. She definitely knew something had happened to send Ezinne straight up to her room without even bothering to say goodnight to him.

“Come on, Mofe, talk to me. By now you know I am the Ezinne whisperer… I can help you two find common ground and maybe even help you get over whatever happened this evening.”

He sighed. She wasn't wrong. Rachel definitely had Ezinne's best interests at heart. She had always helped where she could. She'd helped Ezinne get comfortable with using the E-zin, and she'd kept his secret about the medical records until he'd sorted it out with Ezinne.

Rachel was good people.

He opened his mouth, still trying to decide how much he was willing to tell her.

A scream ripped through the house.

Mofe froze.

It was Ezinne.

Every thought disappeared.

His chair scraped violently against the floor as he shot to his feet. He was already moving before Rachel's glass had fully touched the table.

Mofe took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding so hard that for one terrible moment he could barely hear anything else. Ezinne screamed again, or perhaps it was only the echo of the first scream inside his head.

He reached her bedroom and shoved the door open. “Ezinne!”

She was crouched in the far corner of the room near the wall, her cane lying several feet away from her. One hand was pressed against her chest while the other pointed shakily toward the dressing table.

Her face was pale.

Mofe had never seen fear like that in her before.

He crossed the room in seconds. “Hey. Hey, I'm here.”

Ezinne flinched when he first touched her, and the reaction nearly stopped his heart.

“It's me,” he said quickly, lowering himself in front of her. “Ezinne, it's Mofe.”

She recognized his voice and grabbed him. Her hands closed around his shirt with surprising force as she pulled herself against him.

“He was here.”

Mofe's body went rigid. “What?”

“He was here.” Her voice shook badly.

Mofe wrapped both arms around her and looked over her head at the room.

Nothing appeared disturbed.

The bed was still made except for one pillow that had been pushed slightly out of place. The dressing table looked normal. The curtains were drawn. There was no obvious sign that anyone had broken in.

Rachel rushed into the room behind him. “What happened?”

Mofe didn't look away from Ezinne. She was literally shaking in his arms. Something had scared the hell out of her.

He pulled back just enough to reach her face, keeping one hand firmly around her waist.

“Talk to me. Why did you scream?”

Ezinne's breathing came fast and uneven. “He was here.”

“Who?”

She swallowed. For a moment she seemed unable to say the name. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it back.

Then she whispered, “Ekene.”

Silence filled the room, and Mofe stared at her in confusion.

Rachel stopped moving.

A cold feeling crawled slowly down Mofe's spine. He didn't want to panic, but he was afraid Ezinne was having some sort of episode. Was she hallucinating?

“Ezinne…”

“I know how it sounds,” she said. “I know… I know…”

Her fingers tightened around his shirt. “But I smelt him.”

Mofe frowned. “What do you mean?”

“When I first came into the room.” Her voice trembled. “I thought… I thought I was imagining it at first.”

She turned her face toward the bed. “His… scent, his… cologne… perfume.”

Mofe's eyes followed instinctively.

“It was everywhere. On my bed. On the pillow.”

She shook her head quickly. “I know that scent, Mofe. I lived with it for years. I hated it.”

Rachel moved toward the bed, her expression changing as she leaned closer.

Mofe's jaw tightened.

Ezinne continued before either of them could speak. “I tried to tell myself maybe something else smelled similar. That I was being stupid.”

“You weren't being stupid,” Mofe said immediately.

She barely seemed to hear him. “Then I walked toward the dresser.”

Her hand lifted shakily again. “There was something there.”

Rachel turned toward the dressing table. A single sheet of thick paper rested near the edge.

Mofe had been so focused on Ezinne that he hadn't noticed it.

Rachel approached carefully.

“Don't touch anything yet,” Mofe said sharply.

Rachel stopped. His entire demeanor had changed.

The fear was still there, but now it had hardened into something colder and more controlled.

“Can you see what it is?”

Rachel leaned closer without moving the paper. “There's no writing.”

Mofe frowned. “No writing?”

Rachel stared at it for another second. Then her expression changed.

“There are dots.”

Ezinne made a small, frightened sound against Mofe's chest.

“Braille,” she whispered.

Mofe looked down at her. Of course.

Whoever had left the message had wanted to make absolutely certain Ezinne could read it herself.

That realization made something vicious twist inside him.

Rachel carefully lifted the paper by one corner.

“Rachel,” Mofe warned.

“I need to read it,” she said, running her fingers slowly across the raised dots.

Mofe held Ezinne tighter as her whole body trembled even more.

“What does it say?” he asked.

Rachel didn't answer immediately, but her fingers stopped halfway across the page.

Mofe's stomach dropped. “Rachel.”

She swallowed and began again, checking the dots as though she desperately wanted to have read them incorrectly.

Then she lifted her eyes toward them. Her face had also gone pale.

“What does it say?” Mofe demanded again.

Rachel looked at Ezinne. Then at him.

When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“‘You're still my wife.’”

******

bigbauer:
This is a rather unexpected but very pleasant surprise.

Mucha gracias for the updates. God bless you.

You're welcome

sal1974:
Mofe needs to man up, take the bull by the horns, and let Ezinne know exactly how he feels about her and, more importantly, that he wants to marry her. At this point, he needs to be intentional and take the lead in expressing his feelings and his intentions.

No matter how desirable or attractive he may be to Ezinne, she may never openly reveal the depth of her feelings for him. As a traditional African woman, she may expect the man to do the chasing and make the first move. So Mofe shouldn’t sit back waiting for her to confess her feelings. If he truly wants her, he needs to step forward, be clear about his intentions, and let her know that he sees a future with her.

I get this.…. But could he be afraid of pushing her before she's ready? Anyway we'll see 😏

jupitre:
Should I call this insecurity or what

Hmmm .... There's some of that definitely...

There's one more post left for this chapter which I'll post sometime tomorrow in the evening, most likely around 8pm.


Please leave your comments and thoughts. It encourages this writer

Have a great weekend.

Ezinne stood and began feeling for the opening of her dress. Mofe reached down, picked it up properly and held it toward her.

She took it without thanking him.

“Are you implying that I'm not a responsible parent?” He asked her because it sure as hell had sounded like that.

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to.”

Ezinne pulled the dress over herself with quick, irritated movements. “Well, right now you're thinking with your phallus instead of your brain if you're suggesting we leave our daughter all night because you want me to stay in your bed.”

Mofe stared at her. There was a beat of silence before he asked, “my what?”

Ezinne's mouth tightened. “You heard me.”

“My phallus? Who even says phallus in the twenty-first century?”

She turned toward his voice with a glare he could almost feel from where he was.

“This is not funny.”

“Clearly! I'm trying to understand why you've suddenly started speaking like a biology textbook. What's come over you, Ezinne?”

“Mofe, please.” The warning in her voice told him she didn't want to go there but he wasn't letting her leave without telling him what was going on.

He swung his legs off the bed and reached for his boxers and pants.

“Rachel is home.” He told her. “She lives in the same building, so Azora isn't alone. And Dara would probably have her packed into her car for a sleepover before I finished asking.”

Ezinne started working on the zip of her dress. “That isn't the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that I want to go home.”

“Fine.” Mofe stepped into his trousers and pulled them up sharply. “But that's not what I'm asking.”

Mofe fastened the waistband, his frustration growing. “You were lying in my arms five minutes ago crying because you said you missed being cared for, and now suddenly I'm irresponsible because I asked you to stay longer.”

“I didn't call you irresponsible.”

“You implied it.”

“Well … maybe because you're behaving irresponsibly.” she suddenly revealed.

His head jerked toward her. “Okay, now you did call me irresponsible.”

Ezinne reached down, searching for her cane, but Mofe got to it first. He picked it up but didn't immediately hand it over.

“Something is seriously wrong. Tell me, Ezinne,” he was pleading with her now but she shook her head.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Bullshit.”

Her head lifted. “Mofe.”

“No. Don't ‘Mofe’ me.” He stepped closer, still holding the cane. “You don't get to suddenly turn nasty and then pretend I'm imagining it.”

“I am not being nasty.”

“You basically just told me I'm thinking with my dick instead of caring about my daughter. That's hurtful, Ezinne.”

“I said phallus.”

Mofe gave her an incredulous look. “That does not make it better.”

Despite herself, the corner of Ezinne's mouth twitxh, but she quickly pressed her lips together.

Mofe saw it.

Then she reached for the cane. “Give me that.”

He handed it over. “Tell me what's actually wrong.”

“Nothing.”

“Stop saying nothing, when we both know there's something.”

Her fingers tightened around the cane, and Mofe watched her face.

“Ezinne, what changed?”

She shook her head.

“Ezinne.”

“I said I want to go home.” She said stubbornly.

“And I'm asking why.”

“I don't need permission to leave. You know right?”

His jaw tightened. God, this woman was frustrating. “Don't twist my words.”

“Then stop interrogating me.”

“I'm not interrogating you. I'm trying to understand why the woman who practically attacked the buttons on my shirt earlier is suddenly behaving like she can't get out of this room fast enough.”

Color rose into Ezinne's cheeks. “That was a mistake.”

Mofe stopped moving. Everything in his expression changed, as his heart fell. There was no way she'd just said that. “What?”

Ezinne immediately regretted the words as soon as they were out, but pride had already taken over.

“We should never have had sex,” she said, doubling down.

Mofe simply stared at her, and the silence between them sharpened. He didn't even know what to say.

Ezinne turned her face away. “It shouldn't have happened.”

And she was still talking. Mofe's chest tightened. The words hurt far more than he expected. He had spent the last hour lying beside her quietly imagining a life that stretched years into the future, and now she was standing a few feet away dismissing the entire thing as something that should never have happened.

“You came on to me,” he reminded her quietly.

“I did.”

Incase she’d also forgotten, he said, “You started unbuttoning my shirt.”

“I know, Mofe.”

“You asked me to unzip your dress.”

He saw the flash of regret on her features and it stung him.

“I know what I did!” Her voice rose sharply.

Mofe's did too. “Then what the hell are you saying?”

“I don't know what I was thinking!” She exvlaimed in exasperation.

“That is bullshit. You knew exactly what you did. You wanted it, you wanted me, you wanted us, you wanted what we did. So what the Bleep happened?”

Ezinne's mouth fell open slightly. “Mofe—”

“No.” He wouldn't let her get away with whatever this was. He stepped toward her, anger and hurt, finally breaking through his restraint.

“You don't get to lie in my arms crying because you missed being loved properly and then turn around five minutes later and act like what happened between us was some terrible lapse in judgment.”

“I didn't say you forced me.”

“I didn't say you did.”

“Then stop making it sound like I'm accusing you of something.”

“I'm saying you're rewriting what just happened because something has frightened you and you refuse to tell me what it is.” Even though he wasn't sure what was happening, it was what he'd surmised.

Ezinne's grip tightened on her cane. “You don't know what I'm feeling.”

“Exactly!” Mofe threw one hand outward. “Because you won't bloody tell me.”

The room fell silent. Ezinne's breathing had quickened, and Mofe's chest rose heavily as he stared at her.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Ezinne turned away. “I need to go.”

The anger drained out of him almost immediately when he realized anger wouldn't get him any closer to the answers.

“Ezinne ….” Mofe moved quickly and caught her gently by both arms just as she took a step toward the exit

She stiffened. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Mofe.”

“Stop, just wait a minute.”

She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip just enough to keep her from turning away from him, careful not to hurt her.

“Please stop.” Something in his voice made her movements slow.

Mofe drew her against him. At first she resisted, her hands pushing against his chest.

“Mofe, let me go.”

“Not while you're like this.”

“I am fine.”

“You are not fine.”

“Don't tell me what I am.”

“Then tell me!” The words came out harder than he intended.

Ezinne froze.

Mofe immediately softened his tone. “Please.”

His arms settled around her instead of restraining her now, and for several seconds she remained stiff against him.

Then some of the fight slowly left her body. Mofe lowered his chin toward her hair.

“You're spiralling,” he said quietly. “I can feel you doing it, and you're turning it into a fight because that's easier than telling me what's actually happening in your head.”

Ezinne swallowed.

His hand moved slowly over her back. “I can't guess everything, Ezinne.”

She said nothing.

“I can try. God knows I spend half my life trying to figure out what you're thinking.” A tired breath escaped him. “But I can only know if you tell me.”

Her fingers gradually stopped pressing against his chest, and for a long moment, they simply stood there.

Then she spoke so quietly he almost missed it. “I blurred the lines.”

Mofe pulled back slightly. “What lines?”

“Between us.”

His brows drew together, as he struggled t understand.

Ezinne lowered her face. “We weren't supposed to do this.”

“According to who?”

“According to me.”

“Ah. You, ofcourse.”

“Mofe, don't.”

He exhaled, and she slipped out of his arms. This time he allowed it.

“I shouldn't have done it,” she said. “I'm sorry. We should focus on caring for our daughter, anything else is just a distraction and will complicate things. Let's just … keep it simple.”

Mofe stared at her. He wanted to tell her she had nothing to apologize for. He wanted to tell her they could care for their daughter and also be together. He wanted to tell her the only mistake happening in that room was both of them being too frightened to say what they actually wanted.

But he could hear the wall rising around her again. That familiar distance was returning to her voice. And Mofe had learned enough over the past weeks to know that forcing himself through that wall would only make her build it higher.

“I just need to go home,” she said.

He closed his eyes briefly. Then nodded. “Fine.”

Some of the tension left her shoulders.

“I'll drive you,” he told her.

“You don't have to. Just call me a cab if your driver is off duty.”

“I don't mind driving you.’

“Mofe, I am perfectly capable …”

“I know you're capable.” His tone was firm but no longer angry. “I'm still taking you home.”

Ezinne opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her.

“Don't fight me on this one.”

She stood silently for a second. Then gave up.

“Fine.”

Present Day

Ezinne woke slowly, wrapped in warmth and a deep sense of comfort that she had not felt in years.

For several seconds, she remained somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, too relaxed to immediately question where she was. Her cheek rested against warm skin, one of her legs was tangled beneath the sheets, and a heavy arm curved securely around her waist. She could hear the slow, steady rhythm of breathing above her and, beneath her ear, the faint beat of a heart.

Then she caught Mofe’s familiar scent, and memory returned with enough force to make heat rush into her face.

The hotel. Their argument. The way he'd held her afterward. His mouth finding hers. Her fingers fumbling impatiently with the buttons of his shirt.

And everything that had followed.

Ezinne lay completely still. She was naked beneath the sheet, pressed against Mofe's equally bare body with his arm still around her as though he had fallen asleep holding her and had never once considered moving away.

She couldn't tell what time it was, but judging from how deeply she had slept and how much quieter everything beyond the bedroom seemed, she guessed it was evening. Perhaps eight o'clock. Maybe later.

Her first sensible thought was that she had made an enormous mistake. Then another thought immediately followed.

How could a mistake have been that good?

Her lips slowly curved. God help her, if he woke up and suggested doing it again, she wasn't certain she would say no.

Actually, that wasn't true. She knew perfectly well she wouldn't say no.

A quiet laugh threatened in her throat, and she pressed her face more firmly against Mofe's chest to hide it even though he was asleep.

Earlier that very day, she had sat at Rachel's party and warned herself not to be foolish. She had reminded herself that Mofe confessing that he still loved her did not mean she should simply run back into his arms. That she needed time. She needed sense. She needed boundaries.

Only a few hours later, she had quite literally thrown herself into those same arms and started unbuttoning his shirt. So much for boundaries.

Her smile lingered for several seconds before slowly fading. Because underneath the embarrassment was something else. Something heavier.

Ezinne swallowed as memories of what had happened between them returned in more detail. Not simply the physical pleasure of it, although even remembering that made warmth move through her body again.

It had been Mofe. The way he had touched her. The patience. The care. The way his hands had moved over her as though he remembered her and was discovering her again at the same time.

There had been no impatience in him, no selfishness, no sense that anything was being taken from her. Even when desire had overwhelmed both of them, she had still felt safe.

She remembered that feeling.

Years ago, when they had first become lovers, Mofe had always touched her with a tenderness that sometimes embarrassed her because it made his feelings for her impossible to doubt.

They had been young, she'd been inexperienced, and they'd been completely overwhelmed by one another, but even then he had somehow understood how to make her feel cherished.

And they had never seemed to have enough.

After the first time, there had always been another stolen moment, another kiss that went too far, another excuse to be alone together. They could spend hours wrapped around each other and still behave as though separation for a few days was some unbearable punishment. She had forgotten that.

No, she hadn't forgotten. She had simply buried it.

Ezinne's throat tightened unexpectedly. Being with him again that evening had brought everything back. For those few hours, it was as though the ten years between them had never happened.

She had not been the woman who had survived Ekene, or the blind woman who had struggled to rebuild her life after everything that had happened. She had not been Azora's mother, carrying the guilt of the years Mofe had lost.

She had simply been Ezinne again. The woman who wanted Mofe and felt how deeply he wanted her too. The woman he touched with such tenderness, as though she was precious to him.

A tear slipped quietly from the corner of her eye, and Ezinne blinked in surprise. Another followed.

She pressed her lips together and tried to breathe through the sudden ache in her chest, but once the memories started, she couldn't stop them.

Ekene had never made her feel anything close to this. There had been no tenderness with him. No affection afterward. No lying together talking nonsense or laughing quietly because neither person wanted to move yet. Intimacy with Ekene had eventually become another duty.

Many times he had been drinking. Sometimes heavily, so Ezinne had learned how to become still. How to separate her mind from her body and simply wait until it was over.

She had forgotten what it was like to want the person touching her. She had forgotten what it was like to be touched and not have some part of her preparing itself to endure. More than anything, she had forgotten that desire could exist alongside safety.

The tears came faster, and behind her, Mofe stirred.

His arm tightened instinctively around her waist at first, pulling her closer in his sleep, but then his breathing changed. His hand moved lazily over her back before suddenly stopping.

“Ezinne?”

She wiped hurriedly at her cheek, but it was too late.

Mofe shifted beneath her, becoming fully awake almost immediately. He rolled slightly and guided her onto her back so he could reach her face.

“Hey.” His voice was still rough with sleep, but the moment his thumb touched the wetness on her cheek, every trace of drowsiness disappeared.

“Ezinne?” He pushed himself up onto one elbow and leaned closer. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

His brows drew together. “You're crying.”

“I'm fine.”

“No, you're crying.” His fingers moved carefully across her cheek, finding another tear. Alarm moved immediately across his face.

“Did I hurt you?”

Ezinne blinked. “No.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

The sudden panic in his voice was so unlike his usual controlled manner that a laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

Mofe stared at her, like she had lost some of her marbles.

She laughed again, wiping at her face.

His expression became even more confused. “What exactly is funny?”

“It’s you. You're panicking for no reason.” She told him.

Mofe gave her an incredulous look. “I woke up and found you crying after we just had sex. Of course I'm panicking.”

Despite herself, Ezinne laughed harder.

Some of the fear finally left his face, although he continued watching her carefully. “So I didn't hurt you?”

“No, Mofe, do I look or sound hurt?” She asked him back.

She didn't but he couldn't help asking, “You're sure?”

“Yes….” she said, dragging out the word and rolling her eyes.

“Anywhere?”

Ezinne shook her head now. This was going on for too long. “Mofe, stop.”

“I'm asking to be sure “

“You didn't hurt me, I'm fine, I promise. These tears are for an entirely different reason and they're not sad tears, so stop worrying,” she explained, hoping he would stop now.

“Jesus, Ezinne.” He released a long breath and lowered his forehead against hers for a second.


“Sorry. I don't know what came over me. Once the tears started, they just refused to stop.”

“Don't apologise.” He pulled back enough to look at her face again, his thumb brushing another tear away. “Just … don't scare me like that.”

His voice softened. “So .. why are you crying?”

Her smile slowly disappeared. For a moment, she struggled to find the right words. Then she rested her palm against his chest.

“I … I missed this.” She confessed

Mofe frowned slightly. “This?”

Ezinne's fingers moved slowly over his skin. “Being cared for. Being touched so tenderly.”

She smiled softly, “being made love to, I really had no idea what I'd missed until now,” she added quietly.

Mofe became completely still, his face softening at her quiet confession.

Ezinne swallowed. “Since you, I've never really had this … this kind of … feeling.”

It hurt him hearing her talk like this. No wonder she'd been crying. It had over ten years since she'd felt this sort of passion.

“With Ekene, I used to freeze.” She said and the softness left Mofe's face instantly.

His jaw hardened so sharply that she could feel the tension moving through the body beneath her palm.

“He was usually drunk anyway,” she continued, her voice dropping. “Most times, I would just lie there and wait for it to be over.”

Mofe closed his eyes as a hot, useless anger rose inside him. He’d hated Ekene for years because he'd been the one she'd ended up marrying. He'd never even known what the man had done to her, but hearing Ezinne describe it like this made that hatred feel fresh.

There was something especially unbearable about imagining her lying somewhere frightened and detached while a man who was supposed to protect her treated her body as though her feelings did not matter.

Mofe wanted to say something vicious. Wanted to wish the dead man alive simply so he could put his hands around his throat. But none of that would help Ezinne now.

So he gathered her into his arms. She came immediately, curling against him as though that was exactly where she wanted to be.

Mofe held her tightly and pressed a long kiss into her hair..And as he held her, another realization settled heavily inside him. He had forgotten this too.

Not the sex. He had remembered that. More times than was probably healthy.

What he'd forgotten was how completely Ezinne got beneath his skin when they were together. There had always been something dangerously addictive about them.

Years ago, he could spend an entire night with her and still want another hour. Another kiss. Another excuse to touch her. There had never been that point where he thought he'd finally had enough.

Apparently, ten years had changed nothing. If anything, it was worse now.

Earlier, when she'd fallen asleep against him, Mofe had stayed awake much longer than she realized. He had lain there looking at her, slowly running his fingers over her shoulder and thinking that if somebody had told him a few months ago that he would once again have Ezinne naked and sleeping peacefully in his arms, he would have thought they were mad.

He had wanted her again almost immediately. Not simply physically. He wanted the intimacy. He wanted to hear her sleepy voice. He wanted her stealing his side of the bed. He wanted to wake beside her and complain about the way she had somehow taken most of the sheets.

He didn't want one night. He wanted all of it.

He wanted mornings. He wanted arguments over breakfast and Azora bursting into their bedroom without knocking because she'd forgotten that parents deserved privacy.

He wanted Ezinne's clothes beside his in a wardrobe, her products scattered across his bathroom counter and her cane leaning beside their bed at night.

He wanted more little ones. He wanted birthdays. School runs. Ordinary evenings. Family vacations.

He wanted the things most people would find boring because he had already lost ten years of them.

He wanted to marry her.

The thought itself felt comforting to him. Like the road he'd always known he'd been meant to follow. What frightened him was telling her.

Ezinne had already had one marriage that had nearly destroyed her. He had no idea whether marriage was something she would ever willingly choose again.

More importantly, she kept reminding him they weren't even together. How exactly did a man go from we are not together, Mofe to will you marry me without frightening the woman into another country?

He almost smiled at the thought. Then his expression sobered.

He had told her he loved her several times. And every time, he noticed the reaction. The slight stiffness. The pause. The way her breathing changed before she found some way to move the conversation elsewhere.

She had never told him to stop loving her. But she had never said the words back either.

Mofe wasn't ready to place everything he wanted between them in her hands and have her tell him he had imagined something that wasn't there.

Not tonight. Especially not while she was lying against him vulnerable and emotional after telling him about Ekene.

So he said nothing. He simply held her. His palm moved slowly over her back while he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

Ezinne waited. At first, she assumed he was gathering his thoughts.

Surely he would say something. They had just crossed a line neither of them could honestly pretend wasn't important.

He had spent weeks telling her he loved her. He had told her that Eve had left him because she knew his heart still belonged somewhere else.

Now they had made love.

Surely this was the point where one of them finally acknowledged what was happening.

Maybe Mofe would ask if they could stop pretending. Maybe he would say they should try again. Maybe he would simply say, Let's see where this goes.

Ezinne waited.

His hand continued moving gently over her back. Then he kissed her forehead. That was all.

Her stomach tightened. She gave him another few seconds. Still nothing.

Something uncomfortable began crawling beneath her skin. Maybe she'd misunderstood everything. Maybe Mofe loved her but wasn't ready to actually be with her. Perhaps loving someone from the past was easier than building a future with them.

He had already nearly married Eve. Perhaps part of him still wanted that life. Perhaps tonight had simply been something he'd wanted because he'd missed her too.

The thought irritated her.

Then embarrassed her.

Then irritated her even more because suddenly she felt foolish for lying naked in his arms waiting for him to offer her something he had never promised.

Ezinne pulled away, and Mofe's hand immediately stopped moving.

He watched her turn toward the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Whoa! His brows pulled together. “Now?”

“Yes, now.” She pushed the sheet away and sat up, holding it against herself for a moment while she reached toward where she remembered leaving her clothes.

Mofe stared at her back. The change was so sudden that it took him several seconds to understand that something had happened.

“Come on, Ezinne, stay the night, it's okay.” He told her thinking she was leaving because she thought he wanted her gone.

“No, Mofe. I'm leaving.” She said firmly, as if she wasn't changing her mind.

“Why? What's the problem?” He asked.

She found her dress near the edge of the bed and pulled it toward herself. “Azora is at home.”

Mofe sat up behind her. “So?”

Her head turned sharply toward him. “So I'm her mother.”

“I know you're her mother,” he said, trying to understand where she was going with this.

“Then why are you asking me to spend the night here?”

Mofe frowned. “Because I'd like you to stay.”

“As a responsible parent and my daughter's primary caregiver, I can't leave her alone all night just because you and I suddenly jumped back into the sack.” She said.

Mofe's expression changed. There it was. The edge. He knew that tone. Something was definitely off.

“Excuse me?” He asked her.

Chapter 40


Eleven years ago





Mofe had been staring at the same section of code for almost ten minutes without actually seeing it.

His laptop was open on the small table in front of him, a client's unfinished work filling the screen, while a notebook covered with scribbled corrections rested beside it. He was supposed to be checking through the program before sending another update later that night, but his concentration kept wandering. He would read a few lines, make one correction, then find himself reaching for his phone again.

The last time he had spoken to Ezinne had been a little over an hour ago, and she had sworn she was fine.

Mofe leaned back in the chair and picked up his phone again, opening their conversation even though there was no new message. He read her last one for perhaps the third time.

Ezinne; I'm fine, Mofe. Stop worrying. I just need sleep. 😒

She had even added an irritated face at the end, probably because he had asked her the same question several times.

He smiled faintly at the memory before placing the phone face down on the table.

He had to admit she had sounded better on the phone when he'd called her later in the afternoon. Sleepy, but better. Apparently, after getting home from the hotel, she had taken a bath, eaten a little and fallen asleep again. She had spent most of the afternoon sleeping, which normally might have worried him more, but after the two days they had just spent together, he couldn't exactly blame her.

They hadn't done much sleeping at the hotel.

A small smile tugged at Mofe's mouth before he shook his head and dragged one hand over his face. Perhaps both of them needed to recover.

Still, the memory of her suddenly jumping out of bed that morning and rushing to the bathroom remained uncomfortable. One minute she had been lying against him talking, and the next she had been bent over the toilet vomiting.

She had blamed the hotel food. He hoped that was all it was.

Mofe reached for his notebook again and forced himself to look at the client's work. He managed to concentrate for another few minutes before his thoughts wandered somewhere else entirely.

His impending trip to the United States. There was so much left to arrange.

He needed to buy his ticket, sort out the last of his documents and work out exactly how much money he would have left when he arrived. The amount he had saved was nowhere near what he would have liked, and every time he began calculating expenses in dollars, the figures made his stomach tighten.

Still, he knew that he would make it work. He always did.

Mofe rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his palms slowly together as he thought through the numbers again. He wouldn't have the luxury of arriving and simply concentrating on school without worrying about money. He already knew that. He would have to find work somehow, wherever and whenever he was allowed to, and use the skills he already had to make extra money on the side.

Programming had been paying him quite well for a while now. Enough to prove to him that his skills had value.

And if he could earn from Abuja with his laptop and unreliable opportunities, surely he could figure something out there too.

At least the biggest immediate expense was already handled. His airfare. Tuition, housing and textbooks would be covered by the school but he needed to make extra for personal expenses, and ofcourse he had responsibilities here, with Eric.

Since he'd lost their accommodation, it was only fair that he found an alternative for his cousin. Eric was presently squatting with friends and it got Mofe feeling guilty. He knew Aunt Moni wouldn't be able to afford paying for a hostel for Eric at the moment, not after what she'd just done for him.

The thought of it made his expression soften.

His aunt had surprised him completely a few days earlier when she had walked into his room, closed the door behind her and placed a thick bundle of cash in front of him. At first, he had simply stared at it, then at her, thinking she was asking him to count something for her. Instead, she had told him it was for his flight.

The money had come from the ajo she had been contributing to with some of the other market women for months. Apparently, it had recently been her turn to collect the contribution, and while Mofe had assumed she would put it straight back into her business, she had already decided what she wanted to do with it.

He could still remember the argument that followed.

“Mummy, no,” he had told her immediately, pushing the money back across the bed toward her. “Use this for your business. I'll sort the ticket out.”

His aunt had stared at him as though he had just said something deeply foolish.

“With what money?” she had demanded, pushing the bundle straight back toward him.

“I have money, I've saved up quite a sum.”

“Travelling and settling in will take up a significant part of your savings before your scholarship money starts coming in. If you add the flight to those expenses, your savings might not be sufficient,” she said and it was clear she'd

“I'll find the rest, Mummy, don't worry about it.” He'd to her but she's not wanted to hear it.

“So what do you think I am here for?” she had snapped, her voice rising as she planted both hands on her hips. “Decoration?”

Mofe had almost laughed then, but one look at her face had told him it would have been a terrible idea.

When he tried again to explain that her business needed the money, she had become genuinely offended.

“So I should be buying goods while my child is looking for money to go to school?” she had demanded, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Tell me, Mofe, what kind of mother does that? I don't blame you, I've let you carry so many responsibilities that you now believe I'm also part of your responsibilities.”

He couldn't help but laugh even though he knew every word she muttered was serious.

“You're already doing too much for me, Maa mi.”

“And I need to do even more. Now, that's your money, let me know when you buy the ticket.”

“Mummy—”

“Keep quiet there.”

The memory brought a smile to his face now. She had refused every argument he made and finally asked him how he expected a parent to watch their child get an opportunity like this and not contribute to it.

That had silenced him. Because that was what she had always been to him. A parent.

Not an aunt who had merely taken him in because circumstances demanded it. Not someone who constantly reminded him that he was another person's child. She had raised him, worried about him, fed him when there wasn't enough for herself and celebrated every small success as though he had handed it personally to her.

Mofe looked around the modest sitting room and felt something tighten warmly in his chest. One day, he would make all of it worth it.

He didn't know exactly what that would look like yet, but he could already imagine some of it. He wanted her to stop counting every naira before buying something for herself. He wanted her to have a bigger shop if she wanted one, or no shop at all if she decided she was tired of working. He wanted her medical bills to become something she never needed to worry about. He wanted her to travel simply because she felt like seeing somewhere new.

He wanted to give her more than the kind of comfort she had spent years making sure he had, even when providing it had been difficult.

And Mofe believed he could.

He had never really seen himself spending most of his time working for someone else. There was nothing wrong with having a good job, but whenever he imagined his own future, that wasn't what he saw. He wanted to build something.

Technology came easily to him in a way very few things did. He understood software, could look at a problem and immediately begin thinking of different ways technology might solve it. There were ideas he had written down in notebooks for years, some ridiculous, some unfinished and a few he genuinely believed could become something valuable if he ever had the resources and time to develop them properly.

Maybe America would give him that opportunity. It had to. Because he knew what he wanted eventually.

Freedom.

Enough money that the decisions in his life were no longer controlled by what he could or couldn't afford.

His mind drifted unexpectedly to Ezinne. That morning in the hotel, she had told him she wanted to stay in bed forever, and he had joked that he would make enough money for her to spend the rest of her life lying around in expensive hotels.

He smiled now, remembering the way she had called him a clown. It had been a joke. Mostly. But there had been something strangely satisfying about imagining it.

Not necessarily Ezinne doing absolutely nothing for the rest of her life, because he doubted she would survive a week without finding something to complain about or interfere with, but being able to give her whatever comfort she wanted. Being able to take her somewhere beautiful without quietly calculating what everything cost. Being able to look at a place like the hotel they had just left and not immediately think that one night there cost more than he could comfortably spend.

He wanted that life for himself, for his aunt, and if things went the way he desperately hoped they would, for Ezinne too.

The sound of the front gate opening pulled him away from his thoughts. Mofe glanced toward the window and then at the time on his laptop.

It was his aunt. She was just returning from the market.

He pushed his chair back and stood just as he heard the front door open.

“Mofe?” her voice called from outside.

“I'm here, Mummy,” he answered as he walked toward the door.

She had barely stepped inside before he saw the shopping bags hanging from both hands.

“Ah, give me those,” Mofe said immediately, reaching for them. He took the heavier bags before she could protest. “Why didn't you call me to come and help you?”

His aunt waved him off as she slipped out of her shoes. “Help me for what? Am I an old woman?”

Mofe laughed as he carried the bags toward the kitchen. “Nobody said you're old. But you like carrying your entire market home at once. These bags are too heavy for you nau.”

She followed him inside, adjusting the wrapper tied around her waist. “Leave me oh, Mofe. Just do and travel jare, so that you can stop disturbing me every day.”

The casual reminder of his coming departure made Mofe glance at her, but she was already opening one of the bags and checking its contents as though she hadn't said anything important.

He smiled, knowing she would miss the hell out of him when he was gone.

He placed the remaining bags on the counter. “So… how was your day?”

“Fine,” she replied, pulling out a small package before looking over her shoulder at him. “How about you? You came back this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

His aunt nodded, then seemed to remember something. "And the project you were working on? Did everything go well?”

Mofe's stomach gave the smallest uncomfortable twist. The lie came back immediately.

He had told her that a friend from school needed his help with a programming project and that they would probably work late, so he intended to stay at his friend's place for two nights rather than travel back and forth.

Meanwhile, he had spent those two nights in an expensive hotel with Ezinne.

He tried not to let the guilt show on his face.

“Uh … Yeah,” he replied, picking up one of the bags and beginning to unpack it so he would have something to do with his hands. “It went well. We got everything sorted.”

“Good.” His aunt nodded approvingly as she moved around him to put something into one of the cupboards. “At least all this computer something you're always doing is useful.”

Mofe chuckled. “Computer something?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don't think you know what I do,” he told folding his arms over his chest.

“I don't need to know, Mofe, as long as you enjoy doing it, I'm fine with it.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, then suddenly turned back. “Oh! I even have something to tell you.”

Mofe glanced at her. “What?”

“Your uncle is in town.”

The smile disappeared from his face instantly. His aunt either didn't notice or chose to continue anyway.

“He came in yesterday after being away for almost a month,” she explained as she folded one of the empty nylon bags. “I spoke to him this afternoon. I was thinking maybe tomorrow we can go and—”

“No.”

The firmness in Mofe's voice stopped her.

She slowly looked up. “Mofe.”

“No, Mummy.” He shook his head and turned away, placing a tin on the counter harder than necessary. “Please. I don't want to see him.”

His aunt sighed. “At least hear what I'm saying first.”

“I already know what you're going to say.”

“You don't.”

“You want me to go and see him.” Mofe turned back toward her, irritation already tightening his face. “I'm telling you now, I'm not going.”

“That’s not actually what I wanted to say. Mofe, he is your uncle, your family.”

“And?”

His aunt frowned. “Mofe.”

The warning in her voice would normally have made him calm down, but something about the subject always pulled anger out of him before he could stop it.

“Mummy, please.” He dragged one hand across the back of his neck and paced a few steps away before turning around again. “I don't want to have this conversation. I've told you this before.”

“And I've told you that you can't shut off that side of your family like this,” she replied, keeping her own voice much calmer as she watched him. “You will soon leave the country. Is it bad for you to see him before you go?”

“Yes, it is bad. Very bad for me infact.”

“Mofe…”

“I said no.” His voice came out louder than he intended, but he was barely holding on to the last threads of his temper.

The room immediately fell quiet, and he could feel his aunt staring at him.

Mofe's chest rose and fell as he fought to control the anger that had come far too quickly. He knew he had raised his voice at her and she regretted it. She didn't deserve such disrespect from him. But even knowing that didn't make him any more willing to continue the conversation.

“Maa mi, please, I'm sorry, but please,” he said again, quieter this time but still firm. “Forget about it. I don't want to see him.”

She watched him for a few seconds longer, and whatever she saw on his face must have convinced her because she eventually released a tired breath and shook her head.

“Fine,” she murmured as she picked up one of the empty bags, and walked off to stash it where it belonged.

Mofe looked away, still trying to settle himself. Then, almost deliberately, his aunt changed the subject.

“My tailor finished my outfit today.”

Mofe blinked. The sudden change was so complete that he turned back toward her.

She was already smiling.

“The one for your graduation,” she added proudly, straightening her shoulders as though she were wearing it already. “I collected it on my way home. Ah! Mofe, it is fine.”

The last of his anger broke apart, and a laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

“You haven't even worn it yet and you're already praising yourself.” He told her.

“I tried it there,” she replied, clearly offended by the accusation. “Do you think I will carry rubbish home?”

Mofe laughed properly now and leaned one hip against the counter. “I trust you. You and that tailor will finish everybody at the convocation.”

“Exactly.” She nodded proudly, pleased that he finally understood. “At least somebody in this family will look expensive.”

Mofe's mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

His aunt gave his T-shirt and shorts a slow, unimpressed look before returning her eyes to his face.

“You should have allowed my tailor to make your suit.” She told him.with a disapproving shake of her head.

“Mummy, we've discussed this.”

“And you made the wrong decision.”

Mofe shook his head, laughing as he folded his arms across his chest. “I'm wearing my suit.”

“That your one black and boring suit?” She asked with disdain.

“Yes, that my one suit that has served me well on the few occasions I've needed it. It wasn't cheap oh.” He told her.

She might disagree with his choice of outfit for his graduation but he'd have her know that the suit was a pricey classic.

She clicked her tongue.

“It is perfectly fine,” he insisted, smiling as he watched the disapproval spread over her face. “There's nothing wrong with it, and it still fits perfectly.”

“My tailor would have made you something very sharp.”

“I don't need sharp.”

“You're collecting awards in front of everybody and you don't need sharp?”

“Mummy, the award is not for the suit,” he reminded her.

His aunt shook her head sadly as though he had completely failed to understand something important about life.

“Your loss,” she declared, picking up the small package she had brought from the tailor and turning toward her bedroom. “When you see me that day, don't be jealous.”

Mofe burst out laughing, raising his hands in surrender, “I'll try to control myself.”

“You better.”

He watched her disappear down the hallway, still smiling as he heard her muttering something about young men who didn't understand fashion.

For a moment, Mofe remained in the kitchen, the argument about his uncle already fading beneath the warmth his aunt always managed to bring back into the house.

His convocation was only a few days away. After that, everything would start moving faster.

The ticket. The final preparations. The goodbyes.

America.

Mofe's smile faded slightly as he thought about how little time he actually had left. Only a few weeks.


His thoughts went immediately to Ezinne. He didn't want to spend whatever time remained worrying about the day he would leave. He didn't want every moment with her to become another countdown.

He wanted more mornings like the one they had shared at the hotel. More conversations that lasted for hours. More laughter. More chances to hold her without thinking about an airport waiting somewhere in their future.

They would worry about the distance when the distance came. For now, she was here. So was he. And Mofe intended to make every one of the next few weeks count.

***********