The days that followed felt like slow torture ,
not just for Anwana, but for Tade too. But pride has its own dangerous rhythm.
Tade buried himself in work, refusing to acknowledge the hollowness in his chest that had started to grow since the night he let her walk away.
Anwana showed up at his office the next morning, standing with her hands nervously tucked in front of her as the receptionist told her he wasn't available.
She waited.
Hours passed. He never came out. She returned the next day and the day after that.
Each time, her dignity peeled off layer by layer, but her resolve did not break. He was avoiding her purposely. That alone told her how much pain she had caused him.
Tade, on the other hand, was hurting in silence. He saw her through the glass panels of his office, saw how tired she looked, how her eyes always scanned the room hopefully then dropped in defeat.
But he stayed hidden.
For the first time in a long while, he was afraid of his own emotions. If he let her speak, he might forgive her too easily. And forgiveness, he thought, should not come that cheap.
Everything looked to real , he couldn't avoid the evidences.
---
Back in her small apartment, Anwana sat on the kitchen stool one Thursday evening, tears soaking the edge of her wrapper as she stirred a small pot of egusi.
Three weeks after the incidence
It was all she could afford. She had not told Victor the truth yet he was still too young to understand why his mother was always moody, why they could no longer afford the biscuits he liked, why she was no longer smiling.
Her phone buzzed. It was Ekere, her elder brother.
"You lost your job and you didn't think to say anything? What's wrong with you, Anwana?"
She swallowed hard in tears
His voice was sharp , sharp enough to cut skin. But beneath it was worry. She didn't answer immediately.
"I didn't want to bother you," she whispered.
"Bother me? You're my only sister. Is that not what family is for?"
She bit her lips. "I'll be fine."
"You think I can't help you? You think you're better than help now?"
"No, I just… I want to stand on my own. I've already accepted help from enough people in this life. I don't want to keep owing."
The line went quiet.
"Do what you want. But you better find another job soon. Victor deserves better."
Then he ended the call.
That same night, Kene came to visit, as he had promised weeks earlier
He had always admired Anwana's resilience. When Ekere told him what happened, he didn't wait.
"There's a private catering company that supplies food to hotels and offices. They need a strong second chef under their head cook. I already spoke with the manager. He said you should come in Monday morning."
Anwana couldn't stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
"Thank you, Kene. I truly appreciate it."
"You're talented. And this one has nothing to do with pity. You deserve it."
He didn't judge her , he understood.
---
Back in Ikoyi, Tade became a ghost in his own home. He barely spoke to his mother, hardly touched his meals, and his usual sharp dressing began to fade.
One night, he came back tipsy ,a faint smell of alcohol trailing him. His mother, furious, waited for him in the living room.
"This is what a woman has reduced you to? You come home drunk like a Lagos tout?"
Tade didn't answer.
"I told you she's no good for you! And now you want to kill yourself over her?"
"I'm not killing myself, Mum. I'm trying to forget."
She scoffed.
"Good. Because the wedding is still happening. Aisha is still your bride."
"Aisha is not my wife. She's yours."
shoulders slumped, and for a second, he looked nothing like the man who once walked like the world was his.
And with that, he staggered into his room, slamming the door behind him.
***
Aisha, who had stayed back in their house after her father travelled, eventually returned to her own family home. Tade didn't even notice she was gone until Amara mentioned it casually during breakfast.
His world had started spinning in only one direction: backward, toward a short, light-skinned woman with soft hands, kind eyes, and a son named Victor.
Tade drove past her residence more than once, sometimes parking far off and watching the compound. But Orode, her landlord's niece, never let him come inside. She didn't trust him.
"She's not around," Orode would say through the small opening in the gate.
"I can wait."
"Suit yourself, but I no go let you in. Na man wey no hear woman pain dey come back after break up like say na puff puff he drop."
He waited once, twice, but she never came out.
***
Inside, Anwana was folding clothes, arranging Victor's school uniform for the week when Amara walked in. Amara had become her silent supporter, always bringing foodstuff, asking about Victor's health, sitting quietly with her even when they had nothing to say.
"You know… Tade hasn't been the same since you left," Amara said softly.
Anwana's hands paused over a shirt.
"I don't know what else to do."
"You've done enough. Maybe it's his turn to come to you."
They both said nothing for a moment. The silence between them was not empty — it was full of pain, full of hope.
Anwana placed the last shirt in the drawer, wiped her face, and stood.
"Maybe. But right now, I just need to stand. I can't force things , if your cousin believes what he saw, it's all up to him , he doesn't even want to listen to me ", tears rolled down her cheek
"Ahah... " Amara walked towards her with a small piece of cloth
ing" please don't, Tade is miserable too, you guys should just fix things, please and stop hurting ", she said giving her a warm hug