The compound was quiet that morning — too quiet for the weight Xavier carried in his chest. The sun had only just begun to rise, the golden light slipping gently across the Adebayo family house — a modest but beautiful bungalow with wide verandas, potted plants, and the faint smell of hibiscus carried on the breeze. The gate creaked open as Xavier's car rolled in. The sound of gravel under his tires echoed in the stillness.
He parked beside his mother's silver SUV and turned off the ignition. For a moment, he didn't move. His fingers rested on the steering wheel, his eyes distant. He hadn't slept all night. He'd driven through the city like a ghost — looking at every corner, every street, half-hoping he'd spot her somewhere. Golden. But she was nowhere.
He sighed, stepped out of the car, straightened his shirt, and walked toward the house. His footsteps sounded loud against the marble floor of the veranda. When he opened the front door, he found his mother exactly as he had expected — sitting cross-legged on her favorite armchair, reading her devotional with a steaming cup of tea beside her.
"Good morning, Mom," he greeted softly.
Mrs. Adebayo didn't look up at first. She flipped another page of her devotional, sipped her tea, then finally glanced at him. Her lips curled into a knowing smile.
"Xavier," she said slowly, "when last have you visited me? Not to talk of showing up this early in the morning."
Xavier managed a weak smile and sank into the chair opposite her. "I see you almost every day at my house, Mom."
She raised a brow, clearly amused. "Oh, really? You see me every day, ehn?" She chuckled, tapping her fingers on the book. "So what brings you here this time—since you already see me every day?" Her voice carried that familiar hint of sarcasm he'd known all his life.
He scratched the back of his head, eyes darting, "Uh… I was wondering if… maybe Golden is here." He stretched the words carefully, like a student hoping the teacher would go easy on him.
Mrs. Adebayo froze for a second, then chuckled, that short, sharp laugh that never failed to make Xavier uneasy. "Golden? Why would she be here? Isn't she at that big house you always leave her in? Alone?"
"Mom, please," he said quietly, almost pleading.
"Why are you begging me, Xavier?" she snapped, finally setting her book down. "I only asked a simple question."
Xavier hesitated, then admitted softly, "She's not home."
"Oh?" Mrs. Adebayo tilted her head. "Maybe she went to her store. Unlike you, she actually works."
"She can't be there," Xavier replied quickly.
"And how exactly do you know that, young man?"
He sighed, rubbing his face. "I just… know, Mom. She's not there."
Mrs. Adebayo studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing. "So tell me, what did you do this time? Why did she leave?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "We had a… little argument last night. I didn't think she'd actually leave."
"Little argument?" she repeated, then suddenly burst out laughing. It wasn't the pleasant kind — it was the kind that made Xavier's stomach twist.
He frowned. "Mom, what's funny?"
"Nothing," she said, still laughing. "I just… couldn't help myself." She waved her hand dismissively and picked up her book again.
"Mom, please," he said, leaning forward. "Is she here? I know she can't go anywhere else except here or Adenike's house."
Mrs. Adebayo looked up again, smiling like a cat with a secret. "Oh really? Why don't you call Adenike and find out, hmm?"
Xavier stared at her. He could tell — the glint in her eyes, the tone of her voice — she knew something. But she wasn't going to make it easy for him. Still, he pulled out his phone, dialed his sister's number.
She picked up on the second ring.
"Hey, bro," she said lightly. "Long time. What's going on?"
Xavier sighed. "I'm good. Uh, do you by chance know where Golden is? Is she with you?"
"Golden?" Adenike asked. "Isn't she home?"
"No, she's not. I've looked everywhere. Her phone's switched off."
"Oh… she's not with me. And I don't know where she is either," she said after a short pause, her tone guarded.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Thanks."
The call ended. He exhaled deeply, staring at his mother who now looked too calm for his liking.
"Mom, you're not even surprised that she's missing," he said bitterly.
"Surprised?" Mrs. Adebayo repeated, pretending to think. "No, my dear. That woman has endured too much with you. If anything, I'm surprised she stayed this long. I expected her to leave long ago."
She turned back to her book, smiling faintly — at absolutely nothing.
Xavier leaned forward, desperation creeping into his tone. "Mom, please. I know I've been terrible. I know I've hurt her in ways I can't even explain. But you know her—she always runs to you. So please, if she's here… just tell me."
Mrs. Adebayo slowly closed her book and stood up. "Xavier," she said in that quiet, dangerous tone that used to terrify him as a boy.
"Yes, Mom?"
"Oya, come and be going."
He blinked. "What?"
"I said leave. I'm sure you don't have any dirt in your ears."
"Mom, why? We were talking—"
"Xavier!" she snapped, pointing at the door. "Before I lose my temper, leave now."
He stared at her, lips parted, but words failed him. After a long pause, he nodded. "Alright, Mom. I understand."
"Good. Now go."
He turned slowly, his heart sinking as he walked out. She shut the door behind him and locked it.
From the window, Mrs. Adebayo peered out to watch him. Xavier didn't drive off. He sat in the car, elbows on the steering wheel, his face buried in his palms. The weight of guilt and helplessness pressed down on him.
Inside, Mrs. Adebayo sighed, then walked toward the guest room and knocked softly before opening the door.
Golden sat on the bed, legs crossed, a pack of snacks beside her, watching a movie on her iPad. Her eyes were swollen, but her face was calm now — too calm. The night before, she had come to the house in tears, collapsing into her mother-in-law's arms. She had cried until dawn. But now, she was quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when tears have dried and resolve has taken their place.
Mrs. Adebayo smiled gently. "He came not long ago," she said, closing the door behind her.
Golden looked up, her expression unreadable. "I figured he would."
"He was looking for you," the older woman continued. "Asking questions, pleading, scratching his head like a lost puppy. I told him nothing."
Golden's lips curved faintly. "Thank you, Mom."
Mrs. Adebayo chuckled softly, sitting beside her, "You should've seen his face. He's finally tasting what it feels like to lose peace."
Golden smiled — a tired, small smile. "Good. Maybe now he'll think."
"Are you okay, my dear?" her mother-in-law asked, gently touching her shoulder.
Golden nodded, though her eyes glossed slightly. "I will be. I'm done crying. I'm just… done."
Mrs. Adebayo smiled proudly. "That's my girl."
Meanwhile, outside, Xavier hit the steering wheel in frustration. He called his father, hoping maybe he could talk to his mother.
But his father sighed on the other end. "Xavier, my boy, this time… your mother is right. You need to sit in your own mess. Maybe then you'll realize what that woman is worth."
"Dad, please—"
"I can't help you," his father interrupted gently. "Go home, Xavier. Think about your choices."
The line clicked dead.
By dusk, Xavier was still there — parked in front of his parents' house, eyes fixed on the locked door. He had knocked, pleaded, even shouted, but Mrs. Adebayo didn't open.
Golden's phone remained off, and the silence around him felt heavier than ever.
He leaned back in his seat, his eyes wet. For the first time in years, Xavier Adebayo felt what it was like to lose control — not of a business deal, but of his own home.
The drive back home felt longer than it should. Xavier's mind was tangled — guilt, anger, exhaustion — all blending into one dull ache behind his eyes. The streets were quiet, and every red light seemed to hold him captive, forcing him to think of Golden's face as she screamed at him, of her trembling voice asking, "Whose perfume is this?"
When he finally pulled into the compound, the security man greeted him quietly.
"Welcome, sir."
Xavier nodded weakly and walked into the house.
Inside, everything was still — too still. The faint scent of Golden's perfume lingered in the air, and for a brief second, he thought maybe she'd come back. But as he stepped into the living room, he saw it — the emptiness. The couch was neatly arranged, the throw pillow she always held missing. The faint echo of his footsteps reminded him that he was alone.
He sank into the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. "What have I done…" he muttered under his breath. His phone buzzed again on the table.
He ignored it. Then it buzzed again. And again.
When he finally picked it up, the name flashing on the screen made his heart tighten — Diana.
He stared at the phone, torn between throwing it away or answering. But after the fifth ring, he exhaled sharply and pressed answer.
"Diana."
Her voice came through, shaky and pleading, "Xavier, please. I've been calling. I know you're angry. I know you probably hate me right now, but I need to see you. Just for a few minutes."
He leaned back, closing his eyes. "Diana, not tonight."
"Please," she whispered. "Just once. Let me explain what happened. Let me—"
He cut her off. "There's nothing to explain. What happened shouldn't have happened."
Silence. Then a sigh. "I know. I messed up. But I need to talk to you face-to-face. Please, Xav. Don't hang up."
He rubbed his forehead, the exhaustion weighing him down. "Diana, I'm not stepping out tonight."
She went quiet for a moment, and then softly said, "Then let me come to you."
Xavier hesitated, glancing around the house — the same house that still felt like Golden. He should've said no. He should've ended the call. But something in him — maybe the guilt, maybe the loneliness — gave way.
"Fine," he said finally. "You can come here."
"Thank you," she breathed, relief in her voice. "I'll be there soon."
He hung up before she could say more, tossing the phone aside. Then he sat there, staring at the floor. His chest felt heavy, his thoughts a mess.
He looked up at the framed photo on the wall — his wedding picture with Golden, both smiling like the world was perfect. He got up, walked to it, and brushed his thumb against her image.
"Where are you, Gold?" he whispered. His voice cracked. "Come home, please."
But she wasn't coming. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
The silence of the house seemed to grow deeper. The air felt thick, suffocating. Then, after an hour, the sound of an approaching car filtered faintly through the window.
Xavier's eyes drifted toward the door. His pulse quickened.
She was here. Diana.
The doorbell rang softly — once, twice — and Xavier just stood there, frozen. Every part of him screamed not to open it. But his legs moved on their own, and his hand reached the handle before his heart could stop him.
He opened the door.
And there she was — dressed simply, but her eyes full of something dangerous.
"Xav," she whispered. "Can we talk?"
He stepped aside slowly, the weight of his decision pressing on him like a curse.
"Come in."