Binary Hearts

107 | Adeola 🥹

Adaora stumbled into her small apartment, her legs heavy with the weight of guilt and shame. The door clicked shut behind her, but the sound barely registered. She dropped her bag to the floor and headed straight to her room, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. As soon as she reached the bed, she collapsed onto it, face down, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free.

Her sobs filled the room, raw and uncontrollable.

"How did I let this happen?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. The humiliation at the party replayed in her mind like a nightmare she couldn't escape. She could still hear the gasps, the murmurs, and the accusations.

"She's a cheater."
"A devil in disguise."
"Poor Tunde."

Her fists clenched around the bed sheets as Bam Bam's smug face floated to the forefront of her mind. "She played her role so well, so smooth," Adaora muttered bitterly, "and I was too blind to see through her lies." But none of that hurt as much as the thought of Tunde.

"How must he feel right now?" The question burned in her chest. She pictured him—his bright eyes dimmed by betrayal, his shoulders heavy with the weight of everything he had sacrificed for her, for Spark Technologies, for them. "I've destroyed the one person who truly believed in me."

Her sobs grew louder. She curled into a ball, clutching a pillow as if it could anchor her. Her guilt swallowed her whole.

Tunde sat in his apartment, staring blankly at the floor. The events of the night replayed in his head, each memory more painful than the last. He had felt this kind of pain before—the crushing weight of betrayal.

Chidi.
The name was like poison. Chidi's betrayal had almost destroyed him once, leaving scars he thought he'd never recover from. But this—this was worse. Adaora was the woman he loved, the one he'd let into his heart when he thought he'd never trust again. And now, she had done the same.

His hands trembled as he buried his face in them. Memories of his father flashed before him—his father's reassuring presence, his wisdom, his love. Tunde felt a pang in his chest, a longing so intense it threatened to undo him. "If only I could hug you, Dad. If only you and Mom were here..." His voice broke.

The phone buzzed on the table beside him, but he ignored it. He hadn't answered a single call or text since the party. Not even Adeola's. He was done. He couldn't bear the pity or the questions. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbed a suitcase, and began packing. "I need to get away from all this," he muttered. "I need to breathe."

Singapore

The city buzzed with life, but Tunde had no intention of immersing himself in its energy. Instead, he sought solitude. He checked into a humble guesthouse near a temple on the outskirts. The room was small, almost bare, but it suited him perfectly.

For the next few weeks, Tunde kept a low profile. He discarded his phone and SIM card, cutting off any means of contact with the world he'd left behind. He spent his days near the temple, speaking with the monks, learning from their teachings. One monk, in particular, caught his attention.

"Pain is inevitable, my friend," the monk said during one of their conversations. "But suffering is optional. Sometimes the innocent bear the burden of the guilty, but they emerge stronger for it."

The words stayed with Tunde. He repeated them to himself as he sat under the shade of a tree, watching the world go by. Slowly, the wounds in his heart began to mend.

Back in Lagos

Adeola wasn't herself. Her once vibrant wardrobe had been replaced by somber black outfits. Her infectious smile was nowhere to be seen. The absence of Tunde weighed heavily on her, and she threw herself into her work at Spark Technologies. "I have to keep this company afloat," she told herself. "For him."

Late one evening, she arranged a meeting with Adaora.

When Adaora arrived, Adeola didn't wait for pleasantries. She slapped her hard across the face.

"The first time I slapped you at that party," Adeola spat, "I knew you were trouble. A girl who doesn't know what she wants. And now, look at the mess you've made!"

Adaora didn't retaliate. She stood there, her head bowed, tears streaming down her face. "You're right," she said softly. "I deserve every word."

Adeola's anger dimmed slightly at Adaora's submission. She let out a frustrated sigh and turned away. "Just leave," she said, her voice cold.

That night, Adaora returned home and broke down. She held onto the portrait of her late mother—the one Tunde had gifted her. "Mom," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I wish you were here. I've ruined everything. I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me because I was stupid and scared. I wanted to be sure if Tunde was the one, but now I know. He is. And I've lost him forever."

The news broke weeks later: Spark Technologies was facing backlash over its smart gas cylinders, which had reportedly caused several fatalities. During a press conference addressing the scandal, Adeola, now acting CEO, collapsed mid-presentation. She was rushed to Lagoon Hospital, one of Lagos's finest medical facilities.

Meanwhile, Tunde, having decided to reach out to Adeola, purchased a new phone. As soon as he activated it, his inbox flooded with messages about the crisis back home.

But one message stood out: "Adeola is in the hospital. She collapsed during a presentation. You need to come back."

His heart sank. "Adeola..." he whispered. He stood, determination hardening his features. "I've lost a lot, but I won't lose her."