"He called to check on you," Mom continues. "Said he was… concerned."
Concerned. Like he still had the right to be.
I force a casual tone. "Oh, that. It's nothing, Maami. He's trying to make peace, but I'm not interested."
Silence hums on the other end.
"Zara," she says gently, "I know you. And I know that boy. This isn't nothing."
I close my eyes. "It is. Whatever he's doing—it doesn't mean anything."
A pause. Then, softly, "I just don't want you to get hurt again."
"I won't," I promise, even if I'm not sure it's true.
"Good," she says, but hesitation lingers. "Because a man who plays with your peace isn't worth keeping."
The words settle in my chest—a warning, a reminder.
"I hear you, Maami."
She sighs. "Okay, then. Get some rest. And, Zara… don't let that boy shake you. You've always been stronger than you realize."
The knot in my throat tightens. "Goodnight, Maami."
"Goodnight, darling."
The line goes dead, leaving only the sound of my pounding heart.
Tola flops onto the bed beside me. "So, Ayo is checking on you now?"
I groan, dropping my head into my hands. "Don't."
"Oh, no. You're not escaping this. Spill."
I exhale. "The dinner was a disaster. He brought a girl."
Her brows shoot up. "He what?"
"Yeah." I force a bitter laugh. "Sat there with her practically in his lap like he was proving a point."
Tola scowls. "I hate him."
"You and me both."
"And what did he want? Besides acting like a walking red flag?"
I hesitate. "An apology."
Her jaw drops. "For what? Existing?"
"For leaving him."
She lets out a long, incredulous laugh. "You should've thrown your drink in his face."
"I considered it. But honestly? I'm more worried about my job. The point was to smooth things over, and it turned into a mess. If the Oladipos move forward with the lawsuit…" I trail off, stomach twisting.
Tola softens, scooting closer. "You can't control what happens next. If they fire you, screw them. You're too talented to stay down."
I manage a faint smile. "Yeah. Worst-case scenario, I get a sack letter, right?"
"Exactly." She nudges my shoulder. "And if they do, we'll celebrate your freedom with tequila shots and bad decisions."
I snort despite the weight in my chest. "Deal."
And for the first time all night, something inside me eases.
—
The next morning, I brace myself for the worst.
My nerves buzz as I step into The Daily Report's glass-walled office, half-expecting Mr. Obasi to be waiting with a pink slip.
Instead, his expression is relieved.
"You did it," he says, rising as I walk in.
I blink. "I… did what?"
"The Oladipos withdrew the lawsuit this morning."
I freeze. "They—what?"
"They're dropping everything," he repeats, amused admiration flickering across his face. "Whatever you said to Ayo worked. You saved us, Zara."
Relief crashes over me. "I—I'm glad to hear that."
"You should be proud. That was one hell of a save." He pauses. "Good work, Zara."
For a second, I can only nod. My heart thunders as I leave his office, the weight I've been carrying finally lifting.
I should be celebrating. I saved my job.
But as I walk out, one question lingers.
Why did Ayo let me win?
And more importantly—what does he want in return?
—
Tola is waiting when I step out, practically bouncing.
"Well?" she demands. "Are you fired, or are we celebrating?"
A slow smile spreads across my face. "The Oladipos dropped the lawsuit."
Her squeal echoes through the hallway as she throws her arms around me. "I knew it! I told you the universe isn't completely against you!"
I laugh. "I still can't believe it. Mr. Obasi actually thanked me."
"As he should." She pulls back. "You're a freaking miracle worker."
The warmth of her words settles in my chest, but something else lingers.
Ayo.
"I should probably thank him," I say.
Tola's smile vanishes. "What?"
"For withdrawing the lawsuit. It's the least I can do."
"The least you can do is nothing," she snaps. "You don't owe him a damn thing."
"I know," I say. But still…
"It wouldn't hurt."
"It would," she fires back. "Guys like Ayo? You give them an inch, they take your entire sanity. Don't open that door again, babes."
I sigh. "Okay, okay. I won't."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
But the itch to reach out hasn't left me.
Later, when Tola steps away to take a call, I break my promise.
I pull out my phone, scroll through my blocked list, unblock him, and type:
Me: Hey… thanks for helping with the lawsuit. I appreciate it.
I hit send before I can second-guess myself. It's harmless. Just a thank you.
The reply comes almost immediately.
Ayo: You don't need to thank me, Zara.
Ayo: I wanted to talk to you anyway.
I blink, surprised. After everything last night—after her, this is the last thing I expected.
Me: Talk? About what?
Ayo: About us.
My heart skips. Us. There hasn't been an us in years.
Me: Last night, you seemed pretty clear there wasn't much left to talk about.
I expect him to deflect. Instead—
Ayo: I miss you.
I freeze. My fingers hover over the screen, unsure what to say—or how to process this.
Why now? Why after throwing another woman in my face?
Before I can decide, my phone buzzes again.
Ayo: Can we meet? Just for a bit?
A weird feeling unfurls in my stomach—half curiosity, half suspicion. But the message came from his number.
I shouldn't go. I know I shouldn't.
Me: Okay. What time?
Ayo: 4 PM. Same place as last time.
I glance at the clock. It's 2:30. Plenty of time to argue with myself.
When Tola returns, I shove my phone into my bag, hoping the guilt isn't on my face.
"You ready?" she asks. "Caffeine calls."
I force a smile. "Always."
But the whole time we're at the café, anticipation curls in my chest.
—
At 4 PM sharp, I walk into the restaurant. My heart thuds with every step.
I scan the place.
But it isn't Ayo sitting at the other end.
It's her.
The woman from the last time.
Her expression is cold—almost victorious as she folds her arms.
"What… what are you doing here?" My voice comes out tighter than I meant.
She tilts her head, smirking. "Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."
A chill ripples down my spine. Something isn't right.
"Where's Ayo?" I demand.
She pulls out a sleek phone—Ayo's.
"Oh, you mean this?" She waves it. "He left it behind. Such a careless habit."
My stomach drops.
I've been texting her.