Dear Eva
Episode 7: The Other Side of the Coin
The next few days at the hotel were a mess. Everyone whispered behind my back. The receptionist who fell for the wrong man. The girl who dumped Kingsley, only to be dumped by someone else. The looks, the murmurs—they all pierced me, but I held my head high. I had to. If I didn't, I would drown.
Stan didn't return to work the next morning. Or the next. I wasn't sure if he was suspended or if he'd walked away entirely. All I knew was that the silence he left behind was heavier than his presence had ever been.
Then Kingsley came back.
Not with the dramatic air of vengeance I had feared. Not even with pity in his eyes. He returned with the quiet elegance of a man who had watched enough to know when to strike and when to comfort.
"Dear Eva," he said that morning at the front desk.
I refused to look at him. I knew I couldn't bear to see the smugness I expected. But there was none in his voice.
"May I speak to you privately? Just ten minutes. Please."
He sounded calm. Almost sad.
We stepped into the manager's office, and he closed the door gently. I stood with my arms folded, waiting.
He sighed. "I didn't come back for revenge. I came back because I realized something: You never loved me. And maybe that's okay."
I blinked.
He walked toward the window. "Eva, I admit, I was forceful. I tried to buy your love with gifts, with favors. That wasn't fair. Love should be mutual. I see that now."
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
"I made mistakes," he continued. "But I never lied to you. I always told you I wanted you. I didn't pretend to be someone else. I didn't fake who I was."
My heart twisted. I knew where this was going.
"Stan isn't who he said he was," Kingsley said. "He was never just a hotel staffer I helped off the streets."
I looked up sharply.
He turned to face me. "He's Mr. Okoye's son. The CEO of Royal Crest Group. He came here undercover to test our operations and report back."
My lips parted but no words came out.
"He used a fake name. Fabricated a story. Everything he told you about his background was crafted to gain trust."
I shook my head slowly. "No... no, that can't be true."
Kingsley reached into the desk and pulled out a slim file. "It's all there. He's not even called Stan. His name is Tobe Okoye."
I flipped through the documents with trembling hands—photos, reports, even his real employee file from Royal Crest Group. It was undeniable.
I felt like the ground beneath me had collapsed.
"Why... why would he do that?"
"Business," Kingsley said bitterly. "His family is considering a hostile takeover of our hotel chain. He came to evaluate our weaknesses."
I sank into the leather chair behind me.
All this time… I thought I had found love. But I was just another checkbox on a list. Another tactic in a corporate strategy.
"You deserve better, Eva," Kingsley said softly. "I'll be honest. I still care. But I'm not going to beg again. I just wanted you to know the truth."
He left me there, shattered all over again.
---
Later that night, I stared at the mirror in my room, my face pale, my eyes hollow.
I whispered to my reflection, "Why does everyone think I'm a stepping stone? A thing to use and discard?"
I didn't sleep.
The next morning, I drafted my resignation letter. I couldn't stay here. Not where every wall reminded me of Kingsley's obsessive love or Stan's—or rather, Tobe's—deception.
But before I could hand in the letter, I got a call from Mr. Okoye himself.
He asked to meet me.
---
The Royal Crest Group headquarters was a world apart from my modest hotel. All glass and chrome, elegance wrapped in corporate efficiency.
Mr. Okoye was waiting for me in a large, minimalistic boardroom. His face was stern but not unkind.
"Eva," he said, gesturing for me to sit. "Thank you for coming."
I took my seat warily.
"I want to apologize for what my son did."
I wasn't expecting that.
"Tobe disobeyed my direct orders. I sent him in to observe, not manipulate. But he got personally involved. And now it's complicated."
"Personally involved?" I asked, voice tight.
He nodded. "He fell in love with you. He confessed it to me yesterday. That's why he left abruptly. He didn't want to hurt you further."
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I'm not here to convince you to forgive him," Mr. Okoye said. "But I wanted you to hear the truth from someone who has no reason to lie."
I folded my arms. "He still lied to me. About who he was. About everything."
"True," Mr. Okoye said. "But he also exposed corruption in the hotel that you probably weren't aware of."
I frowned.
He slid a report toward me. "Your former supervisor and another manager were laundering money. Tobe caught them. He reported it before he left."
My eyes widened.
"Your instincts were right to trust him, even if he didn't deserve it."
"Where is he now?" I whispered.
"He's taken a leave of absence. Gone to clear his head. But he left you this."
Mr. Okoye handed me a sealed envelope. My name was written in his handwriting—Dear Eva.
I didn't open it.
I left the boardroom with the letter in hand, my heart torn in too many directions.
Back in my tiny apartment, I sat on the floor, staring at the envelope for hours.
Finally, I opened it.
Dear Eva,
I never meant to fall for you. But I did. Every smile, every laugh, every time you said my name—I kept forgetting who I was supposed to be. I forgot the mission. I remembered you.
I lied, and I'll never stop regretting that. But I swear, the love I felt for you was the only truth I had left.
I'm sorry I broke your heart. But you'll always own mine.
—Tobe.
I cried.
For the love that almost was. For the deception I didn't deserve. For the fact that even though he lied, I had loved him too.
But I also cried for myself. Because I had finally seen the pattern.
People will keep writing to "Dear Eva." But now, Eva will write her own story.
---
The next day, I withdrew my resignation letter.
And I walked back into that hotel with a new resolve.
I wasn't just the receptionist anymore. I was the woman who'd survived heartbreak, betrayal, and deception.
And I was ready to rise.
To be continued...
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