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jupitre:
Trying to sell his daughter for money..
Thanks repogirl

You're welcome. Kindly read the 2nd part of the chapter that I just posted.

Present Day


The last time Mofe had worked himself this hard was years ago, right after the news of Ezinne marrying Ekene had hit him like a blow to the chest. He’d thrown himself into work back then, clung to it like a lifeline.

His goals, his ambition, had become his anchor. If he couldn’t have her, then he’d build the kind of life she’d regret walking away from. He’d become the man she would wish she’d chosen. That purpose had kept him going.

Now, here he was again.

Since walking out on Eve a few nights ago, storming out of the house they'd made a home together, he’d been haunted by the same familiar feelings. That same ache in his chest, the gnawing restlessness, and a silent fury that burned into the pit of his stomach.

The only way he knew how to manage it was by drowning himself in work. Meetings, briefings, and strategy sessions. When he wasn’t meeting with his team, he was knee-deep in research or sketching out new ideas till his eyes burned from staring at his laptop screen.

When sleep finally came, it was fleeting, and he drifted between restless dreams of Ezinne’s face haunting him and Eve’s voice softly calling his name.

He hadn’t slept properly in days and it showed. His business partner, William, hadn’t said anything outright, but his concern was obvious. A few too many side glances, and although he didn’t say much, the comments came: “You look like hell, man.” “When’s the last time you slept?” The occasional comment about how “run down” he looked.

Mofe just brushed it off and kept moving. There was no time to stop. If he stopped, he’d think. If he thought, he’d feel. And he couldn’t afford to feel right now. Not in this cold, five-star suite where the walls felt like they were slowly closing in on him.

Holed up in the luxury suite of The Marriott, surrounded by an opulence he didn’t care about, Mofe tried with futility, not to think about the mess that was his present reality. But the silence of the suite echoed his failures louder than any voice could.

He’d blamed Eve. Then blamed Ezinne. But deep down, he knew where the fault truly lay, himself.

He’d destroyed something good with Ezinne all those years ago and now he’d also broken the woman who had chosen to love him, even when she knew a part of his heart wasn’t hers to hold.

Thanks to the open wound that had never healed fully after Ezinne, he’d transferred the hurt on to Eve and eventually pushed her to the wall. He'd accused her of being with him for the comfort, the success, the image. And then told her to walk away if she couldn’t accept his daughter.

He’d been cruel.

He’d said those things in the heat of his own unresolved guilt and confusion, but that didn’t make them any less cruel. She hadn’t deserved any of it.

He should’ve agreed to the paternity test she wanted, not barked at her like some entitled bully. She hadn’t even asked for proof out of malice, she’d just wanted clarity. And instead of giving it, he’d thrown his weight around like his word should have been enough. Like she owed him blind faith.

She didn’t. She wasn't his puppet and wasn't about to be just because she was in love with him.

He’d known Eve had never needed his name, or his money, or any of the accolades that came with being Mofe Johnson. She had her own. She was with him because she wanted him. And he .. he’d ruined that.
He’d pushed her out. Left her reeling in limbo while he flew off to search for his ex. What woman would wait around for that?

And then, there was Ezinne…

He’d approached Ezinne with the same overbearing energy. Yes, she had hurt him a decade ago, but had she deserved his vengeance? Had she truly?

He'd claimed he wanted justice, but really, he’d wanted to make her bleed. And then, he’d just added to her burden. He had the money, the status, the legacy, and he’d wielded it like a weapon.

He hadn’t cared about her blindness. About her quiet strength. About how she had tried to raise their child alone, in silence, in struggle, all the while adjusting to a world without sight, and instead of being her eyes, he’d become her shadow.

When Rachel had begged him to stay with her as she didn't do well alone at night, he'd left. Again.

He'd broken his promises to her. To both of them .. Ezinne …and later, Eve … and also to himself.

His jaw clenched as he exhaled and pushed away from the cluttered desk with scattered documents that he couldn’t focus on anyway. He walked to the edge of the room where floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the glittering skyline. Hands in his pockets, he stared at the twinkling lights of the city far below. The city pulsed with life, but he felt none of it.

Everything he had worked for, this view, this suite, this empire, all felt hollow now that he was considering things deeply.

He’d returned to Abuja with a chip on his shoulder, dragging ten years’ worth of unresolved pain behind him like luggage. Yes, Ezinne had kept the truth of their daughter from him. Yes, she’d left him all those years ago. But hadn’t he done damage of his own?

Hadn’t he lashed out at her every chance he got?

Hadn’t he cornered her with words that cut deep?

He’d promised to be there for her. Promised forever. And yet, here he was again—vanishing just when she needed him.

‘When did I become this man?’

When had he become the very type of man he used to detest? Entitled. Proud. Emotionally unavailable. A man who believed that love was another thing that could be negotiated, another transaction to control.
Mofe ran a hand over his face, dragging it down his chin as if it would wipe the thoughts away. But they stuck to him like second skin.

He shuddered when he thought of how him, the man who used to detest arrogance and pride could now be drenched in both. He, who once swore he’d never wield power like a weapon had turned it into his shield.

“What the hell am I doing?” he muttered under his breath, voice barely audible.

His reflection in the glass stared back at him, accusing him. He didn’t like the man he saw in the glass. He barely recognized him.

“What the hell have I done?” he muttered, finally coming to terms with the reality he had fostered upon himself.

To Eve?
To Ezinne?
Even to Azora?

And for what exactly? Pride? Control?

He pressed a palm to the cool glass and let the silence answer him.

The room phone started to ring, cutting through the quiet like a blade, and Mofe turned away from the window where he’d been standing. He crossed the room, steps slow and heavy, and picked up the receiver from the drawer beside the bed.

“Johnson here…”

“Good day, Sir. You’ve got someone here to see you. Eve Harrington?”

Shit.

His hand tightened slightly around the phone. He wasn’t ready to see her. Not yet. Not like this.
How had she even gotten his hotel details? William. It had to have been William. He exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. Damn that business partner of his. No one else would’ve given her that information.

Still, she was here, and regardless of how he felt .. unready, exposed, and caught off guard, he couldn’t send her away. Not after everything he’d said to her, and everything he hadn’t said. No, he may not be ready to face his Bleep ups but he definitely couldn’t send his girlfriend of three years away like some uninvited guest. He’d disrespected her enough already.

“Send her up,” he said, then hung up without waiting for a response.

He stayed there for a moment, phone still in his hand, staring at nothing. Then he set it down slowly, almost absently, and sat on the edge of the bed.

He let out a long breath, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. His gaze flicked around the suite to the cluttered coffee table, his shoes carelessly kicked off near the ottoman, an unzipped suitcase lying open on the armchair. It was too late to clean anything up, not like he even felt like it.

Was she here to drop the key? That would make sense. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already moved her things out. She was practical that way, quick and clean when she was done. She wasn’t the type to stay where she wasn’t wanted.

And he hadn’t exactly made her feel wanted.

He knew this wasn’t going to be some reconciliation scene. Frankly, he didn’t even think he wanted it to be. If he could leave her for months and not ache for her, what did that say about the kind of love they shared?

He had so much he needed to figure out—about himself, about what he truly wanted. He couldn’t keep claiming to love someone while another woman haunted every waking and sleeping moment. He’d thought putting an ocean between himself and Ezinne would ease the ache, but it hadn’t. If anything, the silence had made it worse.

The silence of the room settled back in, and Mofe leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, staring at the floor. There was too much in him that still didn’t make sense .. too much unfinished, too much broken.
Eve had been right to step away. He’d only been dragging her through his own confusion, pretending to give her all of himself when a part of him still belonged to someone else.

He’d even fooled himself into thinking that distance would fix it. That leaving Abuja would clear his head. But it hadn’t.

Ezinne was still there, in the corners of his mind, in the edges of his dreams. If anything, she’d become louder.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep only to wake up breathless, her name on his lips. Dreams that left him restless and sweating, his body betraying him with hunger he couldn’t feed. Dreams he couldn’t even speak about, not out loud. Not when he still remembered the exact feel of her skin, the sounds she made when she laughed, the look in her eyes the night she told him to let her go all those years ago.

He rubbed a hand across his face and stood again, pacing toward the bar that had been built in the living room section of the suite, then walked away from it without pouring anything. There was nothing that would take the edge off this.

A soft chime from the elevator pulled him out of the spiral. He turned as the elevator doors opened to the suite, and Eve stepped inside without hesitation, giving him a small, measured smile when her gaze met his from across the large room.

Still in work clothes, a tailored lavender pantsuit that hugged her in all the right places, understated but sharp. The kind of outfit that made people listen when she entered a room. Her blonde hair was down, soft waves brushing against her collarbone, just the way he’d always liked it. Her face was composed, but her eyes .. as she got closer, he could see her clear, blue eyes were tired, and guarded.

Her heels clicked softly against the hardwood as she moved closer until she stopped in front of him, her gaze skimming over his face, taking in his unshaven jaw, the bags under his eyes, the tension in the way he stood.

“Hi, Mofe. You look like crap that’s been dragged through even worse crap.”

He huffed a short laugh, just enough to lift the edge of his mouth. “Thanks, Eve. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She gave a faint smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. Then she sighed, slow and quiet.

“I came to apologise. The other night caught me off guard. We .. I didn’t handle it well.”

He raised a brow, one hand dropping to his side. “Apologise? I would’ve sworn you came to drop your keys.”

She gave a soft, humorless laugh and reached into her purse, pulling out the keys to their home. She held them out wordlessly.

His gaze dropped to them, and something inside him shifted. The finality of it .. the weight of what they were handing over to each other hit him hard. “So… you’re really leaving.”

She nodded. “It’s for the best, MJ.”

He swallowed. “Whose best?”

“Ours,” she said quietly, yet with conviction. “Trust me, you’ll look back on this and realise… I was never the one for you, and vice versa.”

He held her gaze. “You seem so sure.”

“I am,” she said, stepping closer now. Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened with something else .. grief, maybe. Or closure. “I lied to myself for years. Told myself to give you time. To be patient. That you just needed space to get over her…”

“Eve, I didn’t—”

“You did, MJ.” Her voice didn’t rise, but it firmed. “You tried for years to pretend like it wasn’t there. That lingering part of you that still belonged to her. But it got worse, not better. You left me and went running back to her, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“I came back,” he said, stepping toward her now, frustration simmering. “I’m here. I came back.”

She shook her head gently, lips curving into a sad smile. “No, Mofe. You’re here for your pride.”

Mofe frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eve gave him a soft, almost pitying smile. “Come on, you’re a smart guy. I’m sure you’ll put two and two together soon.”

She reached out and took his hand, gently placing the key in his palm, holding it there for a beat before stepping forward and pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, holding her tighter than he’d intended, like part of him already knew it would be the last time.

His voice was low, shaky against her shoulder. “I don’t know what you’ve told yourself but I do love you, Eve… deeply.”

“I’m sure you do,” she murmured, voice muffled against his chest. “But it wasn’t enough to keep her out… Go back to her, MJ. She’s the one you really need to be with.”

Mofe shook his head, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying… Whatever was between us is long gone. We’re different people now, and—”

“Shhhhhh… Just shut up, MJ,” Eve said, cutting him off.
His brows furrowed. “What?”

“You need to quit lying to yourself. Just quit it already.”
“Excuse me?”

“The lies you've told yourself about her, the anger that has festered for years, and all else, Quit it, MJ and reason deeply!” Her voice rose, but not with rage, just heartbreak finally uncloaked. “You’re still very much in love with her and you know this. But you keep putting up this wall, closing yourself off, and lying to yourself. And the worst part? You don’t even know you’re doing it.”

She took a shaky breath, stepping back now, just a little. “I believed those lies for years. God, I needed to believe them because I loved you. But when you left for Nigeria, it hit me… I wasn’t the only one in this relationship. I was competing with someone else. And she was winning.”

“Eve…”

“Mofe,” she said, not waiting for him to finish. “You found her. You want her. And you still love her. So just have her already and stop telling yourself lies. You’re only hurting yourself, hurting her .. and will end up hurting everyone else.”

“I want you to know…” he managed, voice thick, the words slow and clumsy like he was dragging them uphill. But he felt he needed to let her know he'd been serious about her. “I was ready to wed you. I even got the ring and everything… It’s a huge rock. And if it wasn’t big enough for you, I was ready to get you the biggest rock on the planet. I was ready to marry you.”

Eve smiled through teary eyes, then gave a small laugh that cracked in the middle. “Good thing I ended it before you told me. I don’t think I could’ve if I’d seen the huge rock you bought.”

Mofe laughed once, barely.

“I love you, Eva…” he said. “I know I have issues to deal with ..and I’m only just realizing that I do, but I do truly love you.”

“I know.” Her voice was almost a whisper now. “I do love you too. But I deserve much more. You know I’m a hopeless romantic. I could do anything for love, and I deserve someone who will live and breathe me, Mofe.”

She paused, looking at him. Her next words landed like thunder.

“I envy her in a way… She’s got you locked onto her. That’s exactly what I want for myself, someone who loves me so much that he calls for me in his dreams.”

Mofe stilled.

His lips parted but no sound came out. This was the second time she was saying this. He felt ashamed to know that Eve knew that he’d had raw, vivid dreams about Ezinne. He'd never had any idea that she'd known… that he even said her name aloud in his sleep.

“I’m sorry, Eve…” he said, voice cracking. “I’m sorry I couldn’t—”

“Hush.” She placed a hand gently over his lips. Her touch lingered, soft but sure. He saw the tears beginning to gather in her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. Composed. Still Eve.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she said. “We had something good. And now it’s time to move on to better things.”

He wanted to tell her he’d miss her. Wanted to say it out loud. But he knew it would only make things worse. They would miss each other. That much was true. But she was right, she deserved better.

So he nodded, slowly.

She stepped back again, this time for good. Then she smiled, tired but proud. “Bye, love.”

And with that, she turned away.

He watched her walk back toward the elevators, heels clicking with quiet finality. She didn’t look back. The doors opened, then closed around her. Just like that, she was gone.

The suite felt emptier than before.

He stayed there for a long time, staring at the place where she’d just been. A dull ache bloomed in his chest, but beneath it… clarity. A stillness that scared him a little.

He walked back to the window, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He needed to be better. He wanted to be better.
For the child he’d just found out about. And for her mother, who still haunted his dreams like clockwork.
He needed to go back. Back to the version of himself he’d once been, the man he was when he was with her. The man who had been at peace.

The man who had been in love… without lies.
******


Next post on Tuesday evening.

juninhouj:
I already knew Eve won't be able to deal with the fact that Ezinne has a daughter for Mofe. I just knew that will cause their breakup. Anyways thanks for the update 👍👍👍👍

Well ... It's not exactly because of the daughter tho .... Maybe read the chapter again. I just made a few new edits.

jupitre:
Wow....
Good to be back..
Thanks

You're welcome. Thanks for reading.

Dara, it's all like a bad dream that I can't wake up from,” Ezinne said, her fingers absently tracing the rim of the teacup resting in her lap. “I would never have imagined Mofe coming back… not after everything. When I made the decision not to tell him about Azora, I truly believed that chapter of my life was closed. For good.”

Dara, seated across from her on the couch with her youngest child curled against her side, let out a quiet sigh. “I warned you then, Ezinne,” she said gently, “but you wouldn’t listen.”

Ezinne nodded slowly, her unseeing eyes focused on nothing and yet filled with a pain that needed no sight to be felt. “I know. I was just so mad at him… furious, really. At the time, I thought it was all his fault. But now…” She exhaled sharply, her voice trembling. “Now that I know what role his cousin played in tearing us apart, I find I’m more angry at myself for believing the lies, and even more angry at him.”

Dara shifted slightly. “What exactly did Eric say when you saw him?”

“He came to ask for my forgiveness,” Ezinne murmured. “Said he was sorry for everything, that he could now see how foolish he’d been. He told me he wanted us to move past it all—that he just wants to meet Azora.”

“Awwww…”

Ezinne’s expression tightened. “Don’t ‘awww’ anything, Dara,” she said, her voice rising a notch. “You weren’t the one who had to carry a child alone. You didn’t wake up crying every night because the man you loved vanished without a word. You didn’t walk around with this ache, this… this heaviness that no one could see, all while being married to a monster.”

“I know,” Dara said softly. “I didn’t mean to belittle it.”

“I know you didn’t. I just… I wanted to hate him,” Ezinne whispered, her hands curling around the teacup like it was the only thing grounding her. “I wanted to hate someone, Dara. Him. His cousin. Myself. It was easier to hate someone than to accept how broken I felt.”

Dara reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Hate will only keep you stuck, Zinny. It’s like drinking poison and expecting the other person to suffer. I’m not saying what happened wasn’t awful, because it was. But holding onto that anger… it’ll only keep you hurting.”

Ezinne didn’t reply immediately. She let the silence stretch between them as she tried to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling within her. Dara’s words made sense, more than she wanted them to. But she wasn’t ready to let the anger go, not yet.

“Even if I can let it go, I don't think Mofe can ever get past it. We can barely stand each other when we're in the same room. What if I'm right and he's planning something?” she asked after a while, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if he’s still holding onto what happened like I am?”

“Then that’s on him,” Dara said simply. “You do your part and leave the rest. Forgive him. Forgive yourself. And if he can’t let go of the past, at least you know you tried. But from his recent actions, I suspect he still cares deeply for you.”

Ezinne hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. “You think he still cares?”

Dara chuckled lightly. “Zinny, the guy searched you out after ten years. He didn’t send someone, he came himself. Men don’t do that unless there’s something real still burning inside.”

“Don’t say that o!” Ezinne groaned. “You haven’t seen him lately. He’s not the same Mofe we knew back then. This version? He’s a stranger, he’s arrogant, overbearing, and intentionally annoying.”

Dara burst out laughing. “Sounds like money has finished seasoning him.”

Ezinne chuckled too, in spite of herself. “Seasoning keh? He came with a full buffet of new attitude. It’s like he wakes up each morning thinking, ‘How do I get under Ezinne’s skin today?’"

“Well, if he’s so annoying, why did he put you in this beautiful house with staff and so much comfort?” Dara countered, her voice teasing but gentle. “Why not just make you suffer if he truly wanted to punish you?”

“It’s not for me,” Ezinne said quickly, setting her cup down on the nearby table with a slight tremble. “It’s for Azora. I’m just the packaging her prize came in. As soon as he figures out what to do with me, he’ll toss me aside.”

Dara gave her a knowing look, even though Ezinne couldn’t see it. “You’re so quick to write him off. Has he said that to you?”

“No, not in so many words.”

“So why assume the worst?”

“Because it’s better to be prepared for betrayal than to be caught unawares,” Ezinne said softly. “Something happened briefly between us the night before he left abruptly," Ezinne confessed.
"What happened? Dara asked, a frown creasing her brow.
'He kissed me, Dara. And I... I kissed him back. In that moment, I felt everything ... everything I thought I'd buried came rushing back. But then he left. Again. Left the country and had the housekeeper pass me a note. Can you just imagine?"

There was a long pause. Dara’s voice was tender when she finally spoke. “Zinny… you both have scars. Deep ones. Maybe he’s as scared as you are.”

Ezinne tilted her head toward the direction of Dara’s voice. “Maybe. But fear or not, I can’t afford to let my guard down. Not with Azora in the picture. Not when there’s so much at stake.”

“Just promise me one thing, that you won’t let pain make all your decisions. Let your heart speak too, at least sometimes,” Dara said.

Ezinne didn’t answer. She sat in silence, the words echoing within her. And for the first time in a long while, she let herself wonder… What if Mofe still had feelings for her?

“I'm still wondering why are you so hellbent on thinking he has an agenda when he hasn't done anything to get you thinking such,” Dara asked gently, her voice rising just slightly above the hum of the air conditioner and the soft clatter of plates from the kitchen.

Ezinne adjusted her position on the couch, folding one leg beneath her. She couldn’t see Dara’s expression, but she could hear the lightness in her tone, the amused disbelief.

“Dara, he has threatened it,” she replied slowly. “and my gut just tells me he’s up to something, and I have to trust my gut.”

Even without sight, her instincts had sharpened over the years, especially when it came to protecting her daughter. She could hear the shift in someone's breathing, feel the subtle changes in the air when someone entered the room. And with Mofe, it wasn’t just instinct, but also memory, pain, and a caution she’d spent years building.

Dara sighed. “I think you’re paranoid. He wouldn't do anything to hurt his daughter… or you. I just don’t see him hating you like you say. That guy had it deep for you.”

“That was ten years ago, Dara.” Ezinne shook her head. “We’re not the same people we were. Too much has happened between then and now.”

“So... you mean he hasn’t given you any reason to think he still has feelings for you? Not even the kiss that you two shared?”

Ezinne hesitated. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the mug of warm tea she held in her lap. The room felt warmer suddenly, the memory of that night resurfacing in her mind uninvited, the tension, the hesitation, the way they’d slipped so easily into each other like they had never been apart. It hadn’t been planned, and it hadn’t been wise, but it had happened.
She didn’t need to say anything aloud.

“I’m reading something on your face,” Dara said teasingly. “Did something more happen between you two? You said it was a kiss, but I'm suspecting it was more than just a kiss?”

Ezinne turned her head toward her friend, arching a brow. “Dara, whatever you're thinking, rethink it. Nothing happened, and nothing will happen. He even has a fiancée, and you know how he is about commitments.”

“Okay… okay then.” Dara laughed softly. “But you sef .. how about you? Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” Ezinne replied far too quickly. The word came out sharp and immediate.

There was a beat of silence before she added, “Now let's change the discussion. Where are the kids? I haven’t heard their voices in a while.”

She leaned slightly forward, listening. Dara had brought her two kids over for the weekend. Azora had been excited to have company, especially for the pool.

“They left the pool a while back,” Dara said, stretching. “Probably in the gaming room or the arcade. Josh has already made me promise to bring him back next weekend.”

Ezinne chuckled. “You better keep that promise. Zora gets bored sometimes, even with all the gadgets around.”

“I’ll try. I know Josh and Janet won’t let me rest if I don’t. This place is amazing, Zinnie. Are you sure Azora will even want to leave when it’s time?”

“She better!” Ezinne said with mock sternness.

Dara laughed. “Okay, authoritative mama. So how’re the renovations coming along? How long will it take?”

“I have no idea,” Ezinne said, shrugging. “Mofe hasn’t told me anything. I get the feeling he’s taking his sweet time, though. It’s like he wants me to stay here forever. Not me, anyway... his daughter. He’s spoiling her with everything money can buy, and she’s absolutely loving it.”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” Dara said. There was a thoughtful pause before her voice dropped. “So... when do you plan on telling Zora about him and the truth about their relationship?”

Ezinne stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You heard me, Ezinne. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

She sighed, setting her mug on the side table. “I really don’t know, Dara. I don’t know how she’ll take it. All her life, she’s believed Ekene was her father. I’m afraid it’ll confuse her.”

“Confuse who? Zora?” Dara said, incredulous. “Don’t be absurd, Zinnie. You know your kid. She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”

“She is,” Ezinne admitted softly, folding her hands in her lap. “But she’s also sensitive. She doesn’t talk much when something bothers her. And I’ve kept this from her for so long... I’m scared of how she’ll react. What if she doesn’t trust me anymore?”

“Wait,” Dara said, sounding like a thought had just struck her. “She’s taken a liking to Mofe, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Ezinne nodded, smiling faintly. “They’re inseparable when he’s around.”

“Okay then,” Dara said, lifting her hands like the answer was obvious. “What more do you need? She already likes him. She trusts him. That’s your green light, babe. You better tell her soon before she starts crushing on him thinking he’s just your hot friend.”

“Eww, Dara!” Ezinne burst out laughing. “That’s gross. She’s ten, not a teenager!”

“You’d be surprised what goes on in kids’ minds these days.” Dara grinned. “Anyway, the point is Mofe is already a positive presence in her life. He’s not just some stranger you’re introducing out of the blue. She’ll be okay. You need to give her more credit.”

Ezinne was quiet for a moment. Her thoughts swirled in a dozen directions, none of them settling.

Maybe Dara was right. Azora wasn’t just smart, she was emotionally intelligent. But Ezinne wasn’t afraid of whether her daughter would accept Mofe.

Deep down, she feared what Azora would think of her. For hiding the truth. For letting her believe someone else had been her father. For waiting this long.
The lie might have been rooted in protection, but how would a ten-year-old process that?

****

Chapter 02

Present Day



Mofe knew something was off the moment the driver turned into the long, winding driveway of his house.

It wasn't just the silence that greeted him but also how it felt unsettling, as if pressing against the windows, thick and unsettling. The place didn’t feel warm anymore. It didn’t feel like his or could it just be him? Maybe he'd been away for too long, disconnected from everything that used to mean something. Still, there was something... off. The kind of quiet that didn’t just suggest absence but abandonment.

He leaned slightly forward, squinting through the window as the house came into view. It was early evening, and Eve never got back from work this early. Yet her car sat parked in its usual spot. That detail should have been reassuring, but something about it all wasn’t.

The lights inside the house were dim, barely a glow behind the heavy curtains, which was odd because Eve loved light. She hated walking into a dark space, she’d said it made the house feel “cold and unlived in.” She'd picked this house because of the large french windows letting in the light but now the curtains were all drawn, adding to the dour mood of the place.

His eyes dropped to the lawn that was overgrown and sloppily so. It looked like no one had trimmed the edges in weeks. The grass had crept past the pavement line, curling over the concrete. That was strange. He paid a top-tier landscaping company to keep the place pristine, and manicured down to the last leaf. They came religiously, whether he was around or not.

Mofe felt a tight coil of unease in his gut.

Eve wouldn’t be comfortable in this kind of mess. She thrived on order. Everything in its place. Always. She wouldn’t just let things go, not like this. The place almost seemed inhabited, and he hated the thoughts going through his mind.

The driver brought the car to a halt by the front entrance. Mofe stepped out slowly, grabbing his travel bag and nodding at the driver who went around to unload the rest of the luggage.

He approached the door and slipped his key into the lock, heart pounding harder than it should for something so routine.
Inside, the air was cool, quiet, but not welcoming.

He left his travel bag near the door, eyes scanning the familiar foyer. The polished black marble floors gleamed back at him, but it was the kind of shine that looked untouched. As though no one had walked those floors in days.

He walked slowly across the foyer, taking in the stillness. Then he turned toward the wide twin staircases that split into two elegant arms leading to upstairs, the part of the house that held their bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, he stopped.

Brown U-Haul boxes lined the hallway, some sealed while others were left open with clothes and papers spilling out. His pulse quickened as he stepped toward one and looked inside. Eve’s sweaters, her books, documents. A pair of her running shoes tucked neatly in the corner of the box.

His breath caught.

“What the...” he murmured under his breath, voice barely audible over the thud in his chest. This wasn’t spring cleaning. You didn’t use moving boxes to declutter. This was packing … packing to leave.

No, that wasn’t right. This couldn’t be happening. Eve wasn’t the kind of person to just up and go, not without talking to him. Not without a fight. She was the one always dragging him into long, difficult conversations. The one who insisted they “unpack things.” Now, she was packing boxes without saying a word?

He called out, “Eve?”

No answer.

Of course not, if she’d been here, she would’ve already come to the door. She always did, even when she was mad at him, she always met him at the door. She was always waiting for him when he drove up to the front entrance, but not today.

He took the last few steps up and turned toward the bedroom, his chest tightening at the sight. There were more boxes of her things. He walked into the room, standing there for a beat too long, realizing that this was real. It wasn't just the clutter of someone cleaning out old junk, but the kind of methodical packing that came with resolve. That came with someone who had already made up her mind.

He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen. She hadn’t answered his calls while he was away. Not even the polite “I’m busy” texts. It had been radio silence since their last talk … argument. He'd tried smoothing things over but she'd never responded to his messages and somehow he'd been okay with it.

But maybe now that he was back—now that she could see a local number—she’d answer.

He hit dial.

Just then, the sound of the back door from the garden opening reached him. He froze, his heart suddenly hammering. Footsteps, light but quick.

He turned, walking back to the top of the stairs just as she appeared at the base.

Eve.

She paused the moment her gaze met his, realizing he was back. The surprise was immediate and unmistakable. She was dressed in workout clothes, gym shorts, tank top, and sneakers. Her skin glistened with sweat, her chest rising and falling as though she’d just finished a run.

“MJ…” she breathed, her voice uncertain. “I...um… I didn’t know you were… You’re back?”

He stood rooted to the spot. He wanted to reply, to ask her why .. how .. but there was a lump in his throat. The words refused to come. All he could do was stare at her, his eyes searching her face for some trace of remorse, or even doubt. But all he saw was quiet determination. The kind that made his stomach twist.

She had planned to leave. Without a word. Who does that?

"Mofe, I wasn't expecting your return. If I'd known you were coming back, I would... I would have..." Her voice faltered. She looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek. That familiar crease appeared between her brows, the one that only showed when she was nervous or flustered. She only ever called him Mofe when things were serious, or falling apart.

He finally found his voice, though it came out rough. “What’s with the boxes, Eve? What's going on here?"”

Her eyes darted briefly toward the living room, where cardboard boxes were stacked in haphazard piles. Some open, others already sealed. His heart sank.

“Umm… MJ, you just got back. I’m sure you’re tired. Can we take a beat? You have a bath, change, and I’ll whip up dinner… or order in?”

“Eve,” he snapped, the sharpness in his voice surprising even himself. “What is going on here?”

She let out a soft sigh, the kind that seemed to carry a hundred emotions. Then she started up the stairs, her steps slow but deliberate, like she’d made peace with whatever came next.

“As you can see, MJ,” she said when she reached him, “I’m moving out... I’m going back to New York. The Partners offered me a senior partnership, but I’ll have to work in the New York office.”

He blinked, and for a moment, it didn’t register. This was big for her, he knew that. She’d worked herself raw for this, poured her soul into late nights and almost impossible cases. She deserved it.

But New York?

“And you planned to tell me after you were back in New York? Or you never planned to tell me at all?” he asked, his voice low but cutting.

“MJ… I… I planned to tell you eventually,” she stammered. He noticed the slight tremor in her hands. That wasn’t like her.

He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling. “Eventually? Once you were back in New York, I guess?”

“No... I... umm… I—”

“You haven’t been picking my calls, Eve. You haven’t replied to a single email in weeks. How could you just shut me out?”

She stepped past him into the hallway, running a hand through her hair before turning back to face him. “After what happened the last time we talked, I just... I knew it was over between us. So I began preparing myself… until I finally came to terms with it.”
His brow furrowed. What was she talking about? They’d argued, sure, but it wasn’t anything new. He’d told her to walk away in the heat of the moment, but she knew better than to take him literally.

“Eve-angelina, you’re saying it was over between us?” He called out her full name in frustration, stepping closer, and staring directly into her eyes. “Who said that? What in the world made you decide that? We argued, but I never meant—” He broke off, trying to find the right words. “What exactly did you come to terms with, Evie?”

She held his gaze, unflinching. “I came to terms with the fact that you will never love me the way you do her. That you will never really or fully settle with me.”

The words hit him like heavy blows to the chest. Her voice was quiet, but every syllable landed with weight. It sounded final, irrevocable. Like a judge’s gavel.

“What?” He reached out, his hands gently gripping her shoulders. “But that’s precisely why I came back. It’s you, Eve. I’m done with the back and forth. I’m ready for us to move on. Together.”

He watched her, expecting something … anything. A smile of surprise .. relief, but her face remained unreadable. She was still diistant.
“It’s time we set a date for that wedding of ours,” he said again, hoping that would spark something in her.

Instead, she arched a brow. “So you’re done in Nigeria? You’ve found the closure you need? You’re not returning?”

“No… of course I’ll be going back. I still haven’t settled everything, I—”

“Settle what exactly, MJ?” she cut in, her voice rising slightly. “You say you have a daughter, even though you’ve refused a paternity test. What else is there to settle? Custody isn’t too much of a problem, and you could do that from here. You don’t need to be back there. You have a company to run here for crying out loud.”

He took a step back, exhaling sharply. “Don’t be unreasonable, Eve, the company can run for years without me. My daughter Azora is my priority, and she doesn’t even know I’m her father. She thinks I’m just a friend of her mom’s. If that’s going to change, I need to spend time with her… build trust. The plan is to hang around until Ezinne agrees to tell her.”

The moment her name left his mouth, he saw it, the flicker in Eve’s eyes. Hurt, then, steel.

And he realized just how much damage had already been done.

“And in the meantime, I’ll be here, lonely in this big house, waiting indefinitely while my husband is back home with his ex and their daughter?” Her voice cracked, caught somewhere between anger and heartbreak. The glint in her eyes wasn’t just fury, it was also fear. The kind that comes when you already know the answer but ask anyway, hoping you’re wrong.

“Eve…” Mofe said, softly, unsure of what exactly to say next.

“Waiting for you?” she pressed, stepping closer. “Waiting till you fall for her all over again and leave me?”

The words hit him harder than he expected. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the trembling in her fingers, the way her mouth tightened like she was trying to hold back something raw. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was despair.

“What I had with her is done, Eve,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not happening…”

“Oh, please stop kidding yourself!” Her tone sharpened, no longer holding back. “The only reason you want to be back there is because you still want her.”

He paused. His breath caught, and for a moment, Mofe had no comeback.

“What makes you think so?” he asked finally, his voice low, cautious.

Eve let out a brittle laugh, shaking her head. “MJ, it’s all over you. You talk like her memory is just some old chapter in your life, but she’s everywhere. She’s in your moods, your silence, your restless nights… even your dreams.” She blinked back sudden tears. “I know because I’ve seen it. I’ve heard you mutter her name in your sleep.”

He turned away slightly, jaw tightening. Had he really said her name in his sleep while Eve was right next to him? God.

“For years,” she continued, “I told myself to love you harder. I agreed to get engaged to you, I moved in, I supported you, I adjusted to your silences. I thought eventually, if I was steady enough, if I loved you well enough, you’d be able to let her go but here we are, and the truth, staring me right in the face.”

Mofe felt something cave in his chest. The weight of guilt pressing down upon him like a stone, suffocating him. He was losing her fast and he couldn't do anything about it.

“When you said you were going back to Abuja …” Her voice faltered briefly. “I just knew. You needed to see her again. As usual I was supportive, after all what else could I do? Now you’ve found out she has a child for you, there’s no way she won’t be in your life,our lives if I choose to be with you. There's no way we can live without her shadow always between us.”

“Eve—”

“I’ve tried,” she said, more to herself now. “But the signs are clear, MJ. You’re not mine. You never were.”

He stared at her, struggling to speak. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He hadn’t even realized how deeply he’d already done so until now.
“Tell me,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his. “Tell me you didn’t want her the whole time you were there. Tell me you didn’t miss her. That you weren’t attracted to her. Swear to me I was all you thought about.”

Mofe opened his mouth, then closed it again.

How could he lie?

The truth was, Eve hadn’t been at the center of his thoughts. Not even close. He’d been concerned, yes, because she hadn’t answered his calls, but even that concern had been buried beneath the confusion and chaos that Ezinne stirred in him.

He said nothing.

“That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her voice brittle.

“This isn’t fair, Eve…” Mofe’s voice was quieter now, but there was a rawness in it that tugged at her. “Ezinne and I have history, yes, but that’s all it is. I might have had some lingering feelings, but they don’t mean anything anymore. It’s you I want to be with... and you know me, Eve. I mean what I say.”

He took a tentative step forward. “You’re not being fair. I regret telling you about my daughter now... I knew it would change everything. I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Be honest with me, this is really about me having a child, isn’t it? That’s why you’re leaving.”

“No, MJ! God, are you even listening to me?” she snapped, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “And what do you mean I couldn’t handle it? I am handling it—right now, standing here. But I won’t go into a marriage already cracked before it even starts.”

“It won’t crack, and it won’t fail,” he said firmly, moving closer. “I won’t let it.” His hand reached for hers, desperate to bridge the space between them, but she stepped back before he could touch her.

The way she looked at him just then, like she was already gone, sank a weight into his chest. Something final.

“Easier said than done, MJ. There’s no point in dragging this out.” Her voice was low, almost breaking. “I’ve made up my mind. That’s part of why I didn’t take your calls or tell you earlier. I didn’t want to give you the chance to talk me out of it.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes, and that stung more than her words.

Mofe’s jaw tightened. “So that’s it? You’re just going to walk away?” His voice was sharper now, the heartbreak slipping into anger. “You were going to end this? End us without even the decency of telling me in person? After all this time, all we’ve shared, this is how you end it? Just pack up and disappear?”

“I’m sorry, MJ, I just…”

“No,” he cut in bitterly. “Don’t apologize. You’re not sorry, you’re just done. Right when I was ready to build something real with you, you’ve already given up.”

He turned away from her, the weight of disappointment sinking low in his chest. Everything he had imagined, every future he thought they were building all felt like it was crumbling under his feet.

“MJ, wait, please.” Her voice cracked behind him, but he didn’t stop. He was already halfway down the stairs. “Where are you going?” she called out, her voice laced with panic. “Are you going to be okay?”

He turned his head just enough to say, “What do you care?” Then he kept walking, jaw clenched, eyes forward.

Picking up his bag in one swift motion, he pulled out his phone as he stepped outside. “Come back now,” he muttered into the phone, calling his driver.

He didn’t look back.
*******

Olabantu:
Never thought I’d comment on NL again but here we are.

Thank you for not giving up on Zinny and Mofe

Here we are . Thanks for sticking around all these years. I appreciate the support.

Ibunkun1:
Yaaaaaaayyyy!!! I don land!!!

Thank you very much for continuing this masterpiece. I dey follow Bumper to bumper!

Let’s gooooooooooo

Thanks for hanging in there all this time. Mofe and Ezinne will get the story they deserve

Chapter 02

Eleven years ago


Ezinne sat opposite Ekene at the table, her brow furrowed in anger. Though she was seething inside, she maintained a calm demeanor. They were supposed to be enjoying dinner at a local restaurant, but Ezinne was too furious to touch her food. When she fell silent, glaring at him with her arms crossed, Ekene ordered her meal without her consent.

She had only agreed to this dinner because her father insisted and because she needed a favor from him in return. Ezinne figured that by attending this date with Ekene, her father might be more inclined to grant her request.

“Ezinne,” Ekene said softly, trying to sound concerned, but she remained immovable, seeing through his insincere act.

“Are you really not going to touch your meal?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, “I won’t even pick up the cutlery, let alone the food,” she replied.

“Ezinne…” he began, but she interrupted him with a dismissive wave.

“Save it, Ekene. I’m only here to please my dad. You and I are finished, so just drop it… I’m just passing time until I can go back home and tell my dad that this is never going to work.”

Ekene leaned back, looking dejected, but Ezinne felt no remorse for hurting him. Perhaps if she was harsher, he would finally understand.

“Ezinne, what more do you want from me? I’ve apologized a million times… what else do you expect?” he asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

“That’s it, I don’t want anything from you. Just leave me alone. My dad won’t listen to me, but if you tell him you’re not interested in this relationship, he might actually hear you. There’s really no…”

“But I still want you. I’ve never stopped wanting you, Ezinne,” he insisted.

She let out a derisive snort before she could stop herself. “You want me while you’re out chasing other women? Is that right?”

“Ezinne, I’m sorry about everything… I’m done with all that. I swear I’ll be faithful to you from now on,” he promised.

She rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, right,” she retorted.

“Ezinne!” he exclaimed, losing his temper and slamming his fist on the table, drawing attention to them.

Startled by the sudden shift in his demeanor, she watched as he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control his anger.

She shook her head; this was the Ekene she knew, not the pretender who had been pretending to be remorseful.

“Ezinne… you know I have a quick temper. Why do you enjoy provoking me like this? Why can’t you just do as you’re told? You’re so frustrating!” he snapped, barely holding it together. “Your father only wants what’s best for you, for us, doesn’t he?”

Raising an eyebrow, she questioned, “I should simply obey? Am I a robot or a computer program? Is that all I am to you, Ekene?”

He shook his head, exasperated. “No! Of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. Amused, she watched him struggle to maintain his composure.

“You enjoy pushing my buttons… defying me, taunting me, just pushing me to my limits,” he stated.

Finally succumbing to laughter, she interrupted him mid-sentence. “I’m sorry… please, go on,” she managed to say between giggles.

Ekene leaned back, his expression tense; he looked genuinely angry. Ezinne knew that if they weren’t in such a public place, he might have lashed out at her.

“Am I now a joke to you?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. His facade of repentance had vanished, revealing his true self. His narrowed eyes hinted he wanted to make her see reason. “Do you think this is funny?”

Trying to stifle her laughter, she realized she needed to rein it in before provoking him further. She wouldn’t be surprised if he lost control right here.

“I didn’t mean to laugh, but you’re just… something else, Ekene. You’re seriously going to blame me for everything?” she replied. “You expect me to accept that my pushing your buttons is the reason for your infidelity and mistreatment? Seriously?”

“Yes!” he shot back. “I also blame that guy you’re fooling yourself with. The one you flaunt as your boyfriend. He’s the real joke… you’re the joke, Ezinne. You should be laughing at yourself. You’re losing respect hanging around that loser.”

“My friends have seen you with him and they ask me who the hell he is to be with someone like you. Do you even know whose daughter you are? Why would you choose to bring such disgrace upon your father and upon us?”

Ezinne couldn’t believe her ears. She refused to sit there while Ekene spewed such vile nonsense.

“Ezinne,” he continued, “Have you even considered what you’re doing? The image you’re projecting to others?”

“The image I’m projecting?” she echoed, bewildered.

“Yes.”

Now it was her turn to lose her composure. “What do I care about what others think of me, Kene?” she shot back. “I’m focused on my own happiness, not on anyone else’s opinion. If someone has an issue with how I live, they can jump in front of a moving train for all I care.”

Ekene raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t care that you’ve tarnished your reputation dating that scoundrel? Seriously, what do you see in him? What can he possibly offer you?”

Ezinne recognized that he was trying to provoke her by insulting Mofe, but she refused to let him succeed. “He’s not a scoundrel, and he’s a hundred times more of a man than you’ll ever be!” she replied heatedly.

“What? What did you say?”

“You heard me loud and clear. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks about him; I love him, and that’s all that truly matters in the end…”

Her voice trailed off as she realized she had just confessed her love for Mofe. Where had that come from? She looked at Ekene, who had clearly caught her declaration. He appeared ready to explode.

Ezinne stood up from her seat. This dinner was over.

“Ezinne!” Ekene called out. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished.”

In her mind, they were done as she walked out without looking back. If Ekene couldn’t accept it, that was his problem.

She was certain he couldn’t follow her; he had to settle the bill, and by the time he did, she would already be long gone.

*******

Mofe had just arrived at the gates of the estate. After a long, exhausting day tending to his aunt, rest was all he craved. Eric had taken over and would stay the night with their mother, who, thankfully, had recovered enough to return to her own home.

He paid the bike rider, nodded his thanks, and began the short walk to his house. The quiet evening wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, but his mind was far from peaceful.

He had seen Ezinne earlier that afternoon when she’d come over briefly with a thoughtful meal—beans porridge, grilled fish, and perfectly baked potatoes. His aunt had devoured it with pleasure, her spirits lifted. Since the day Ezinne had gotten her to the hospital, Aunt Moni had been asking him questions about her. Probing, curious questions.

He hadn’t sugarcoated anything. “She’s my girlfriend,” he’d told her. “Someone I have deep feelings for.”

Aunt Moni had given him a long, knowing look. She understood him, and knew he wasn’t someone who entered into relationships lightly. His past flings were few and shallow. Nothing like this.

His relationship history was hardly romantic. He’d first experienced sex at twenty, introduced by an older woman in their compound who had made herself available and taught him what she liked. It wasn’t love; it wasn’t even connection. Just physical release.

Over the years, there were others, casual and fleeting. They’d never touched his heart. Then came Ezinne. And even when they hadn’t spoken, she had captivated him. Just seeing her in class, walking past him, or hearing her laugh had been enough to lodge her in his heart.

He never truly believed he’d get her attention. Loving her had felt like loving a dream. She'd been beautiful, distant, and untouchable. Now that he had her, or at least some part of her, it scared him to think it could all be temporary.

He remembered standing in her bedroom that day, heart wide open, finally confessing the feelings he’d carried for so long. And she’d panicked. Shoved him into the bathroom like a secret, like something to be hidden.

It gnawed at him.

What if she didn’t feel the same? What if he was just a passing moment in her life?

What if she left?

The uncertainty twisted in his chest like a vice. But he shook it off. There was no point drowning in ‘what ifs’. If he wanted to keep her, he had to fight for her, and not just with words, but with presence, with intention. With his actions.

His thoughts were interrupted as he approached his gate, and froze.

There were figures outside his house.

Six of them.

Tall, hooded, their outlines barely visible under the dim estate lighting, like shadows with weight. Every instinct in his body screamed danger.

He stopped in his tracks.
And they noticed.

They turned toward him in unison. The air shifted. He pivoted and bolted, but he hadn’t made it five steps before they were on him. Hands grabbed at his shirt, yanked him back violently. A sharp blow to his knee sent him crashing to the ground.

Pain exploded through his leg.

“Who are you?! What do you want?!” he gasped, keeping his eyes lowered. He didn’t want to see their faces. He just wanted to survive.

But no one answered.

Instead, a barrage of kicks and punches rained down on him. One hit his ribs. Another his stomach. Then his chest. He tried to shield his head with his arms, curling into himself, but there were too many of them. The pain was relentless, rolling over him like waves, each worse than the last.

He groaned as one of them drove a boot into his side. The world blurred. He tasted blood.

Then, suddenly, it stopped.

Heavy breathing filled the silence.

One of them leaned in close, and Mofe could smell tobacco and something chemical .. engine oil maybe, on his clothes.

“Listen carefully,” the man growled. “Leave that girl alone. She belongs to someone else. If you love your life, end the relationship. Do you hear me?”

Mofe didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Every breath he took was agony.

But in his heart, he already knew.

There was only one person petty and possessive enough to orchestrate something like this.
Ekene.

They walked off slowly, confident, as if they knew he wouldn’t be able to follow them. And he didn’t. He lay there, sprawled on the ground, his body screaming in pain, his breath shallow, a faint ringing in his ears.
But deeper than the pain… was rage.
******

Next post on Tuesday 9.pm

https://www.nairaland.com/8488784/forever-always-book-ii-story#136311633


You can also find the link on my signature. Enjoy!

Continued from https://www.nairaland.com/1970624/forever-always-story-repogirl#27521187

Chapter 01

Present Day

It was past closing time at the center, and Ezinne felt exhausted but determined to stay until she finished reviewing the staff lesson notes for the upcoming week. The thought of a quick shower and a brief nap before dinner lingered in her mind, yet she resolved to leave the office only after completing her work.

The center had hired additional staff, which should have lightened her workload significantly, but someone needed to supervise the team. Mofe had brought in a new Principal while she continued in her role as Director of Studies. The center was her brainchild; she had invested so much into it that she felt it was her responsibility to oversee the staff directly, no matter how tedious the task might be.

The new Principal was indeed competent, with experience managing rehab centers similar to hers. They got along well, as he was particularly good with both the staff and the students. Ezinne could see his genuine passion for the job and appreciated his strong work ethic.

She'd had a spirited debate with Mofe about retaining her position at the center and ultimately emerged victorious. He had hoped she would reduce her heavy workload, but she firmly disagreed. It might have been unwise, but she believed no one could perform the job better than she could. Mofe conceded but arranged for the Principal to assist her. What he didn't realize was that, even with the Principal's help, she preferred that most of the work pass through her desk. She simply couldn't step back and allow someone else to make decisions about her students.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yeah, come in,” she called, taking a break from the notes she was reviewing.

“Hey, Madam,” said Anthony, the new Principal, as he preferred to be called. Since she couldn't see faces, she had grown accustomed to recognizing people by their voices, their footsteps, and even their scents. She recognized Anthony by his voice and when he stood close. Sometimes, if he arrived before her in the mornings, she could catch a whiff of his pleasant, musky perfume lingering in the office hallway.

“Hi, Anthony. You're still here?” she asked, noting it was about three hours past closing time. Like her, he often stayed late, so she wasn’t surprised.

“Yeah, I was just leaving when I decided to check on you. Everyone’s gone, even Maureen, you know?”

She nodded. “I know. I just needed to finish these notes before heading out. My driver is still around, so I’m not completely alone.”

“You know I already reviewed those notes, right? I was quite thorough,” he mentioned, and she nodded.

“I know, I know, Tony. They’re nearly perfect, and I can tell you took a look. I just want to go over them again to refresh my memory on the topics the students are currently learning.”

“Alright, ma'am, that’s fine. But if I may say, it’s already nearly 5 PM, and it will be getting dark soon.”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I’ll be out of here before then. I’m almost finished,” she reassured him with a smile, touched that he cared about her safety when he didn’t have to. Mofe’s personal driver was waiting for her, and every time he assisted her into the car, she felt the strength in his arm. She knew he was no ordinary driver, but also a very capable bodyguard.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll just...” His voice trailed off, and she heard the outer door to the building close. Footsteps approached.

“Can I help you, sir?” she heard Tony ask the newcomer.

Straining her ears, she recognized a very familiar male voice respond, “Hi, I’m here to see Ezinne Onu, please.”

“You mean, Mrs. Ezinne Amah?” Tony inquired.

She recognized that voice but couldn’t place it; the man was still a distance away from her office door. Who could be referring to her by her maiden name? She had kept Ekene's surname even after his death, but this person seemed unaware of that.

“Yes, that's who I meant,” the man replied.

“Is she expecting you?” Tony asked, and she couldn’t help but smile, imagining that he must have done some receptionist work before.

“No, but I must see her,” the man replied.

Ezinne closed her eyes, trying to recall the voice.

“What’s your name?” Tony asked.

“Eric… Eric Abayomi is my name.”

Ezinne froze at the sound of his reply. Eric! Yes, it was definitely him. She probably hadn’t recognized his voice because it lacked the usual sneer she had come to expect.

What on earth was he doing here? What did he want? Eric had always harbored animosity toward her for reasons only he understood. Had he come to see just how far she had fallen from her former greatness?

She vividly remembered how he had played a role in keeping Mofe away from her. He had lied to her years ago, callously telling her that Mofe had moved on and didn’t want to hear from her. He had even claimed he didn’t know how to reach him, even if he wanted to. He had driven the final nail into the coffin, forcing her to suppress her feelings for Mofe and vowing to keep her child away from her father and family.

What did he want now? To taunt her again? To harass her? Did he think she and Mofe were reconciling, and now that Mofe was away, he had come to torment her once more?

No, she was certain that Mofe would have informed him that they could hardly stand each other's presence. They had been quite close back then, and she knew they would still be.

“Madam… madam!” Tony called, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Yeah… yeah?” she responded, snapping back to reality.

“Are you alright?” Tony asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Somehow, she hadn’t noticed him coming closer. His voice was now much nearer, and she could sense his concern.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” she struggled to say as calmly as she could, though she felt anything but calm.

“Okay, you have an Eric here to see you. Should I let him in, or have him come back another time...?”

“Let him in,” Ezinne said suddenly.

“Err… are you sure?” he sounded hesitant, sensing that something was off in her demeanor.

“Yeah.” She needed to understand why he was there and express her feelings about his despicable actions from years ago. “Send him in.”


*****
The door creaked open, and she heard Eric's footsteps approach. Each step seemed to echo louder in her mind, stirring up old memories she'd fought hard to bury. As he entered the room, she could almost feel the tension in the air thickening, pressing down on her like a heavy cloak.

"Hello, Ezinne," he began, his voice softer than she remembered, lacking the smugness that had once grated on her nerves.

"Eric," she replied curtly, maintaining her composure. "What brings you here after all this time? Kindly keep it short and simple as I do not have time for any long discussions."

He hesitated, perhaps sensing he was treading on fragile ground. "I know this is unexpected, but I came to apologize. I've been carrying this guilt for too long. I realize now how unfair I was to you back then."

She blinked, momentarily taken aback. This was not the confrontation she had imagined. "Apologize?" she echoed, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Yes," Eric continued, taking a cautious step closer. "I was wrong, and I see that now. I let my own issues cloud my judgment, and I hurt people... I caused so much damage in the process."

Ezinne felt a surge of emotions, a mixture of anger, relief, and confusion. "You have no idea how much damage your words caused," she said, her voice steady but firm. "You pushed Mofe and me apart when we needed each other the most."

"I know," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "Back then, I detested you, Ezinne. I saw you as a distraction that would derail him from his purpose, and take him away from our family. I believed you were unworthy of him. Looking back, I see how stupid I was, I let my foolishness dictate my actions. Ezinne, you can't imagine how sorry I am and how helpless I feel being unable to undo what I caused, and it weighs heavily on me."

His confession struck her like a physical blow, but she found herself wanting to hear him out. "But all I ever did was love your cousin, Eric. You acted like I was the villain in our story, as if I wanted to hurt him and your family. But I loved him."

"I understand that now," he replied, his voice trembling slightly. "I was blinded by my own insecurities. But all that is done and I can't undo it. I can only ask that your please find it in your heart to forgive my actions. I don’t want to ruin the chance to know his daughter, Azora, my little cousin. I want to make amends, and promise to spend the rest of my life doing this."

The mention of Azora turned a fresh wave of feelings in her chest. "You think it's that simple? You can't erase a decade of hurt with a few apologies."

"I don’t expect to fix everything overnight. I know it’ll take time. I just want a chance to show you both that I'm not the same person I was. I want to help if you'll let me."

Ezinne paused, contemplating his words against the backdrop of her own turmoil. Her blindness had taught her to assess situations with more depth, to feel instead of only relying on what she saw. "Forgiveness isn't easy, Eric," she said finally, her voice softening just a bit. "But I appreciate your coming here to say this. It means something. I need time to process everything, but maybe... maybe we can start with that."

He nodded, relief washing over his features, though the air still felt charged with doubt. "Thank you, Ezinne. I know this doesn't fix the past, but if there's ever anything I can do to help, please let me know. I genuinely want to be there for you and Azora."

"But understand," she warned, her tone firm but fair, "you'll have to earn that trust back. I can't forget how you spoke about me or treated me when I was with Mofe. You wielded your words like weapons."

"I know," he uttered, his voice heavy with remorse. "You have every right to be wary, and I understand if you'd rather I stayed away. This is a new path for me, and I’m ready to take it step by step."

Ezinne considered him for a moment, feeling the weight of both their histories in the air between them. It was true that time had passed, yet the wounds felt fresh. “How do I know you won’t revert to that person? How do I know this is sincere?”

He took a deep breath, his voice steady. “Because I can’t afford to live in the past anymore. I’ve watched too many people I care about fade away. I want to connect with Azora and show her the family she deserves, please believe me.”

******


The door had barely clicked shut behind Eric when Ezinne reached for her phone. Her fingers fumbled over the screen for a moment before she found Rachel’s name and pressed call.

If someone had told her that one day Eric would come asking for forgiveness, she would have told them to their face that they were liars. Back then, Eric had hated the very air she breathed. She remembered the distasteful glares he always directed at her. He couldn't even bear to be in the same room with her.

When she found out she was pregnant, she had begged and pleaded with him for Mofe's contact details, but to no avail. She hadn’t told him about the pregnancy because she was saving that information for Mofe, but perhaps she should have. Would it have changed the trajectory of their lives over the last ten years? She wondered.

Rachel's line rang twice before her bright voice answered, slightly muffled by the kitchen noise in the background.

“Hi, Zinny! Are you good? I was just about to check on you during my break.”

Ezinne let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she had been holding in. “Rachel, I'm sorry for calling now. I didn’t mean to disturb you since I know you're busy, but you won’t believe who just walked into my office.”

“Who?” Rachel’s voice sharpened instantly, protective as ever. “Are you okay? Did Mofe do something again?”

“No... no, it’s not Mofe. It’s Eric, Mofe's cousin, Aunt Moji’s son. Remember him? Eric. He came here.”

There was a stunned pause on the other end. Ezinne could hear the faint clang of a spoon against a pot, as if Rachel had frozen mid-task.

“Eric? What...” Rachel repeated, and Ezinne could hear the surprise in her voice. “What in the world did that man want? Don’t tell me he came to make more trouble... I swear I’ll...”

“He apologized.” The words felt strange on her tongue, as if she were still testing their truth. “He actually came to say he’s sorry for everything. He knows the part he played in all this and wishes he had given me Mofe's contact details when I begged for them. What’s even more shocking is that he asked if he could get to know Azora.”

Rachel let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. How do you feel about it? Are you going to tell Mofe about it?”

“He probably knows. But even if I wanted to tell Mofe, he's MIA, and goodness only knows when he'll return.” She replied, leaning back in her chair, letting her free hand drift over the edge of her desk, grounding herself in the present as her mind unwillingly drifted to the past. Eric's appearance in her office still seemed surreal. “As for how I feel, I can’t help but remember that day,” she murmured. “The day I went to his flat... I was barely holding myself together, so scared and desperate to reach Mofe. I begged Eric for Mofe’s number. I begged him, Rach. And he just looked me in the eye and told me Mofe didn’t want me anymore. That he had moved on. That I should forget him.”

Her breath hitched. Those words still scraped at her heart, even after all these years.
“I remember walking home, feeling like I had been scraped hollow. I was carrying his child and convinced he didn’t want either of us. I can't forget that. I don’t know how to just forgive it.”

Rachel’s voice softened, growing steadier, like a warmth anchoring Ezinne. “Oh, Zinny… You have every right to hold onto that hurt. Don’t let him twist it. If you choose to open the door just a crack for him, it’s for you and Azora, not for him.”

Ezinne sighed, “Part of me wants to slam the door in his face forever, like he did to me. But I know Azora deserves more than my bitterness. She deserves a family, even if I can't trust Mofe's motives. He’s still her father, and Eric is her close relative.”

“That’s fair. You’ve always had the biggest heart, Zinny. Just be careful with it, okay?” Rachel replied. “Take it one step at a time. He’ll have to prove he deserves any piece of her, of you. And if he steps out of line, he’ll answer to me first.”

“Thank you.” Ezinne felt her shoulders ease, the tension softening just enough to breathe. “I needed to hear that. I'll keep a close watch on how this plays out. I may not like it, but I have to suck it up for Azora’s sake.”

“Good. Now go take a breath, madam executive director,” Rachel teased lightly. “I’ll swing by this weekend with that coconut cake you love; I’ve even upgraded the recipe. We’ll talk some more then. Don’t stress yourself out, you’re not carrying this alone.”

A small smile tugged at Ezinne’s lips. “I know. That’s why I called you. You keep me brave.”

“Always,” Rachel said warmly.

“Okay, I can’t wait for your visit. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Yeah, me too. See you soon, dearie.”

When the call ended, Ezinne set the phone down, the faintest trace of a smile lingering on her lips. She may not be sure how things would turn out yet, but she intended to keep a close eye on Mofe and his antics. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had tasked Eric with asking for her forgiveness, probably trying to get her to let her guard down, but that wasn’t going to happen.

She turned back to her desk, Rachel's words of reassurance wrapping around her like a promise that she wasn’t alone. Not this time.





******

Hello Dear readers,

So, I'll begin posting Forever and For Always Book II, which is the concluding half of the story, from tonight at 9pm.

It will be on a new thread and the link will be posted somewhere you can easily access or simply go to my profile page to access it easily.

Expect TWO chapters every week, on Friday and Tuesday evenings.

I sincerely apologize for the prolonged delay but I don't plan to keep readers hanging in limbo anymore. All unfinished stories will be finished.

Ibunkun1:
Yes! Yes!! Yes!!!

Hmm.... Okay then. Expect something soon

Hmm... Is anyone still interested in this story?

kayemjay:
YIMU

I no know why I must type 40 characters. Why does "YIMU" alone not suffice?

SMH! In your old age, you're still like this?

Divepen1:
I was going through my old files — stories, articles, drafts — and found a 15-page book I started years ago. The working title?
Early Pioneers: A History of Nigerian Digital Books.”

Guess what I discovered?
Almost every early record I had started from Nairaland.

Before Okadabooks.
Before Bambooks.
Before this board was moderated by great minds like Cuddlemii and Humbledbygrace
It was Nairalanders, writers, readers, thinkers, who laid the foundation for Nigerian digital storytelling.

It starts with Seun Osewa, who gave us this open ground. Then came the storytellers like
AudreyTimms. EvaJael. Repogirl. Frank316. Kayemjay, Royver.
People like Mine Whitman, who held us down here before starting Naija Stories
Orikinla and David Dylan... Even Karo Oforofuo was present here before being part of Okadabooks’ growth.

We can’t forget the icons with cult classics who never got to publish:
RedMosquito. WhiteMosquito, Flakkydagirl,
These were not just usernames, these were voices. Movements in themselves.
Although we still have some writing and publishing like Larrysun, Rachaelfst (Toyin Taiwo), Shewrites (Sarah Iyare)...

And then we had the ones who gave feedback, built momentum, and encouraged others financially while writing their own stories like Queenitee. Princesa.
True OGs of literary support.

Today, many of these names are quiet.
Some burnt out.
Some ghosted by the industry.
Some simply disappeared from themselves.

And yet… we know the truth:
Nairaland started it.
This forum gave us everything. Before social media trends. Before content calendars. Before royalties.

So no, this is not a comeback post.
This is a survival post.


I started Writertain to document the movement; Nigerian writers telling stories outside the gate.
But the movement is fragile. And if we don’t hold it, it will vanish.

That’s why Writertain is evolving into a hybrid platform:
- Documenting stories.
- Supporting creatives.
- Creating space for Nigerian storytellers in all forms - books, blogs, scripts, audio, films.

And yes, we are prioritising Nairalanders.
If you’ve ever…

– Written a book no one read
– Sent a script to someone who ghosted
– Cried over a blog post with only 6 views
– Started a brilliant series and life got in the way

Writertain is for you.

We won’t offer false hope.
But we will walk with you.
Build with you.
Mourn with you.
Try again with you.

Let’s do the hard work. Together.

🟩 If you remember any writers I didn’t mention, drop their names. Let’s honour them.
🟩 If you're still creating, let us know — Writertain is building new ways to help.
🟩 If you’ve stopped but want to return quietly, we see you too.

This isn’t nostalgia. It’s memory turned into mission.
Let’s bring it back, differently this time.

This is beautiful. Thanks for the mention, Divepen.

I plan to return soon.

Okadabooks paid some authors today (the authors have been dragging them)but they only paid half of each author's trapped funds.

As for me, I've not received anything. I'll update when I do.