Replica: Crazy Versus Smart (Nigerian Story)

Chapter 42: In One Night 2

Michael parked his Jeep in the lot, silently watched by Kanye, his driver. Without a word, he got out, leaving Kanye behind to take the smaller Toyota and drive off. With his hands shoved deep into his pockets, Michael made his way through the luminous hallway and into Susanne’s room.

Meanwhile, Grace was rinsing her hair after a warm shower. The night had been cold and exhausting, and she longed for some relaxation. Dressed in Susanne’s red, silky nightgown, she stood before the mirror, gently applying her face cleanser when she noticed Michael's reflection behind her.

“Come here. I need to talk to you about something important,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

Grace sighed. She was tired, her face still damp from the shower, water dripping down her curls. Her bare, makeup-free face radiated a natural beauty that struck Michael. He paused, taken aback by how different she looked—raw and unadorned, a stark contrast to the polished version he was used to seeing.

“We can talk tomorrow,” she replied softly. “I’m about to sleep.” She brushed past him, trying to avoid his gaze, but stopped a few feet away, wiping a stray drop of water from her face. Michael stood frozen, staring. It was the first time he’d seen her like this—without makeup, jewelry, or even earrings. In that moment, her unfiltered beauty captivated him, and he struggled to gather his thoughts.

As Grace glanced at him, she frowned slightly. Is he seeing something different in me? she wondered, trying to avoid any direct eye contact.

Michael cleared his throat, his hand nervously grazing his jawline.

“Are you okay?” she asked, noticing the dazed look on his face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

He blinked, snapping out of his trance. “I wanted to ask if you’d come with me tomorrow to drop Camilla at the airport... just to clear the air.”

Grace frowned, feeling irritation rise. “Is that necessary? Why should I go?” she asked, her tone cool but edged with suspicion.

“I got into an argument with Cryst earlier. Please, don’t ask what it was about,” he mumbled, trying not to stumble over his words. “I just... I need you to call her tonight. Before you go to bed.”

Grace’s eyebrows shot up. “And why should I do that?” she scoffed. “She’s your sister, not mine. I didn’t argue with her.”

Michael’s face tightened. “Just do this for me, okay? And tomorrow... don’t bring up anything about the argument. Please.” His voice dropped lower, almost pleading.

Grace crossed her arms. “The most important thing between a couple is trust. I trust you, Michael, but why don’t you trust me?” she shot back, eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t be hanging around with Camilla so much if you did.”

He swallowed hard. “It’s not about that. I trust you.”

“Do you, though?” Grace countered. “Because from where I stand, it doesn’t seem that way.”

Michael sighed, his frustration evident. “Just don’t forget to call Cryst, okay? She needs to feel cared for.”

Grace rolled her eyes toward the chandelier overhead. “Fine. I’ll call her later,” she muttered, already tired of the conversation.

Without another word, Michael turned and left the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, Grace’s frown deepened, the tension between them lingering like a shadow in the room.

Cryst stumbled toward Ore, clutching a pack of Guinness as if it were her last lifeline. “Come on, I found this in the store! Let’s drink it all,” she slurred, her words thick with the weight of alcohol. She staggered to where Ore sat at the table in her restaurant, which was surrounded by books strewn haphazardly across the shelves.