The Silence Within

Chapter 33

Lola went home. She sorted out her differences with everyone, dropped her pride and apologised for been so stupid and egotistical. Her mother had proven to be obstinate a bit as if her request for forgiveness meant nothing before hugging her, crying and apologising for beating her. Very dramatic. Lola rolled her eyes. Her grandfather had smiled with satisfaction and her father had hugged her but that grandmother of hers had snorted then started talking about marriage which had everyone shutting her up. Lola wondered how her grandfather copped with that woman for more than sixty years.

Lola could not be happier. Finally, a weight had been lifted off her chest and she won't be seeing Joshua's face or any of his wretched family members again. She registered to a tennis club on the Island. Tennis and basketball were her favourite sports. She plays them weekly, finding time in her tight schedule. Her work load had increased. She had a lot to see to at work. Sukanmi had taken care of the business well. Now that she's back, there were events to photograph and photo sessions to take. For the great job he had done, Sukanmi had been appointed to be her manager.

Lola's body was still wet from shower. She had tied up her braids into a bun at the top of her head. Humming, she pressed cream in her palm then looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes met familiar black eyes. He stood right behind her, his body against the wall, a smirk on his face and that evil glint in his eyes. Her eyes went wide as she sucked in air. She felt fright arise from its deep slumber and pump into action in her veins. She backed away from the vanity, spinning around to see nothing. Where he once stood was empty. There was no one there, no man looking at her and no man smirking at her. Breathing faster, fear clogging her throat, she fell back against the vanity, her heart sprinting, a hand coming over her hot and sweaty forehead.

She knew he was there. She saw him through the mirror. He was smirking at her. Lola rushed to her car. She was not hallucinating. He was right behind her. That man wants to drive her nuts. When she got home, she had rushed to her room without greeting anyone and locked the door. She was frantic in her room when she saw it on the bed. A large white box. Curiosity had her checking it out.

It was a black Versace dress, simple and elegant. He had given her for a friend's dinner party back in university. She remembered hugging him and squealing because she loved the dress. She remembered how he held her, kissing her cheek and she remembered that happy and relieved look in his eyes because she loved it. Lola balled her fist, snarls escaping her lips. With a loud cry, she ripped the dress and threw it away.

Who is playing games with her? Who keeps sending these sort of gift that were exactly what he had given her? Her chest rose and fell rapidly. He's still in prison. She knows that. He was sentenced to more than ten years imprisonment. Then why does she keep getting gifts from an anonymous person. The only one that had a letter were the Jimmy Choo heels. What's happening? What does this mean? Slowly, she sat on the bed, her thoughts went wild as she broke down.

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Jafar had not taken her to a restaurant. He had suggested they take a drive through Lagos Mainland. She had told him, the traffic will be heavy and driving though it would be tiring but he had insisted, telling her it would give him more opportunity to spend more time with her.

Truth be told, there had been traffic but they never minded because there was always something to talk about. He made sure there was never a moment of silence. Few minutes of silence and he starts another conversation. Osas loved it, sitting next to him while they were stuck in a traffic jam, his attention on her as he spoke. She saw the tenderness and adoration in his eyes, just for her. Something grew inside her. Contentment? Happiness? She can't really lay a finger on it. It grew into a living fervour.

When she complained of hunger, they stopped at a food joint by the road. Kerosene lamps lit the night, creating a yellow glow. Okada men zoomed by with their constant blare of horn. Osas complained about how impatient the okada men can be. She also said they are the cause of many motor accidents on road. Jafar found a place to park in the busy night, in front of a woman who sold akara (bean cake), fried sweet potatoes and yam.