Replica: Crazy Versus Smart (Nigerian Story)

Chapter 38: He Doesn't Love Her

In the serene estate of Maitama, the morning unfolded like a delicate rose, its petals gently unfurling. The sun, a golden artist, brushed the sky with hues of pink and orange, crafting a masterpiece above the horizon. The fountain, a crystal symphony, serenaded the waking world with its melodic whispers and the twittering of birds, while the tall masquerade trees stood as silent sentinels, their emerald leaves shimmering like jewels in the dawn's embrace. The air was a tender caress, wrapping the estate in a blanket of calm, as the city slowly stirred to life, greeting the new day with a gentle sigh.

At 7:00 a.m., Micheal was wide awake and ready for work. Dressed in a royal blue suit and velvet red tie, he stood tall. His black beetle leather shoes added an aura of elegance. After a quick sip of coffee, he stepped outside. Kanye, already waiting, took his place in the driver’s seat as Micheal approached. Together, they settled into the car and zoomed off.

Grace peered through the transparent window downstairs, waiting for them to leave so she could follow. She was dressed in a long, flowing black silk gown that elegantly draped her figure. Adjusting its off-shoulder design, she sealed her lips with maroon red lipstick and placed a well-combed wavy wig on her head, styled just like Susanne's.

Without having breakfast, Grace hurried downstairs. "Good morning, ma," Musimbi greeted, but Grace's mind was too preoccupied to respond. "You look beautiful in this outfit. Are you going out?"

"Yes! Take care of the house in my absence," Grace instructed before leaving. Her heels clashed against the tiled floor as she stepped out, still getting used to wearing them.

Once outside, she climbed into the car and tracked Micheal through the GSP tracker app. As soon as Micheal entered his office, Grace followed on tiptoes. Approaching his office with the quiet precision of a covert operative, she braced herself for any signs of an unexpected guest behind the closed doors. Peering through the blinds, her mind raced with various possible scenarios of his "mysterious" meetings. Just then, a female janitor in a blue uniform caught her in the act. Grace froze, her eyes drifting slowly to the janitor before gazing at the door again. She stood properly, offering a tight-lipped smile, cleared her throat, and walked away.

That morning, Cryst walked into her coffee shop. Her hand swung along with her tiny bag as she turned to the receptionist, Obianuju. "Madam, you have a guest," Obianuju reported.

"Where is she?"

"Around there," Uju pointed.

"Okay. Get me paracetamol and bring me a big cup of coffee."

"Okay, ma," Uju replied.

"Make sure it is hot and add only one cube of sugar," Cryst demanded before leaving.

"Oh, Aunty Funke, it's you!" Cryst blushed, rushing towards her.

Aunty Funke sat in a metal chair, her body leaning against the table while sipping a short cup of tea with her legs folded upon each other.

"Good morning. You should have called me instead of visiting unannounced like this. You could have saved your strength." Cryst sat opposite her.

"God! Look at your eyes. They're red and swollen! Do you sleep at all?" Aunty Funke quarrelled. She leaned forward with wide, narrowed eyes beneath her barely visible, raised eyebrows.

Cryst wiped her eyes with her index fingers. Her tired voice managed to say, "I'm fine, Aunty Funke..."

"Where did you spend the night?" Curiosity laced Aunty Funke's tone.

"No one at home cares about me. I'm nothing but a burden to my brother and his wife. So I went out to have fun."

"I told you, if someone makes you angry, just pay me a visit, uh? I'm a stone's throw away. You know my house, Cryst, and we are not strangers to each other. A young girl shouldn't stay out at night, huh?"

"Oh, that was what Ore told me last night." Cryst blushed underneath her breath. "What a coincidence!"

"Ore? Who's that?" Aunty Funke's eyes narrowed.

"No, it's nobody," Cryst brushed it off. "Why did you visit me so early?"

"It's all because of you. Someone was worried about you last night. I guess he barely slept. He asked me to check on you."

"My brother?"

"Who else? Micheal cares a lot about you. He called me at 5:00 a.m. this morning and asked me to persuade you to come home. Is Susanne giving you so much headache? Can't you endure her a little more?"

A bitter hiss escaped Cryst's lips. "I just don't like Susanne. She makes me feel like the black sheep and the spoilt apple. Yet Micheal supports her."

"You know a man will always protect his wife, even though he's a jerk. Don't confront Susanne directly, especially when he's around, or else you'll be the villain."

"But she is so annoying, I can't help it sometimes!" she snapped, pained. "I caught her with her sneaky boyfriend Kingsley the other day, but Micheal ended up blaming me for interrupting her personal and professional life. They were about to make out in that hotel room. If he can't see reason with me, I just need concrete proof to expose them."

Aunty Funke sipped her tea as she pondered Cryst's words. Uju brought a cup of sweetened coffee and a sachet of paracetamol on a marbled serving tray. She gently placed it on the wooden table between them before leaving. "Cryst, what interests you? I mean, what would you like to do during your free time?"

"Uh...Nothing. I feel you make Micheal and Susanne the center of your life. You barely run this place, and you got books?" Aunty Funke complained, studying the place. "Do you want to make your restaurant a library?"

"No, not really. I love reading fictional stories, so I filled this space with my favorite books."

"I think you should plan for your future."

"My future?" Cryst's eyes narrowed. "What about it?"

"You're not getting any younger, you see. What are your goals, your aspirations? Don't you have any? You studied business design at Harvard. What will you do with that certificate? It's been three years since you graduated and you're not doing anything positive."

"Come on, Aunty. I'm living fine. I have my dad and brother. They can provide all of my needs. They will shake heaven and earth if I ask for it, so why would I want to work?"

"They love you, yes, but they can't live for you. You'll be treated like a burden sooner or later. If Susanne has a child, it will inherit all the Balogun property, and you'll be left with scraps."

Cryst sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes squinted and her jaws tightened at the sudden wave of pain that contoured her facial features into a grimace.

"Wouldn't it be a nice idea if you got a nice guy to settle down with and have a child? That way, you won't be left out in your father's will."

"I don't care if I'm left out or not. As long as I have Micheal, he'll definitely take care of me."

"Really?" Aunty Funke rolled her eyes, resting her back against the chair in laughter, though nothing was funny.

"Micheal truly cares about me. He does." Cryst repeated, convinced. "And Susanne, if it wasn't that she saved him from that car accident five years ago, pretending to be pitiful in front of my dad, she wouldn't even be married into our family. My brother only protects her; they're not in love."

Her clenched fist pounded against the wooden table. "He can be annoying sometimes, but he's still my brother."

"Don't forget that Micheal and Susanne are one family," Aunty Funke reminded Cryst.

"I know, but I was born into this family. I'll make sure she leaves Micheal soon. I won't give up," she said with determination in her eyes.