He gave me a brand-new phone with a SIM card, and to my surprise, he also bought phones for both my parents. I couldn't believe it. I had never owned a phone before, so he patiently taught me how to use it. I thanked him with all my heart before he left.
That night, my heart beat faster than usual as we started chatting on the phone. I almost forgot to sleep. It felt like I was entering a new world, one brighter than the one I had known all my life.
The following week, when he asked me again, I finally said yes—I accepted his marriage proposal. My parents were overjoyed, and we fixed a date for the introduction, just two months away. By then, school would be on break, and I would be done with my WAEC. I was shy about the whole thing and didn't even want my classmates to know yet.
A few days before the introduction, he decided to take me out. He showed me places I had never imagined seeing. He took me to a big restaurant and even taught me how to use cutlery properly. I held the fork awkwardly at first, and instead of mocking me, he laughed gently and guided me with patience. To me, he was the most caring person I had ever met.
After that, he took me to a boutique where he bought me lovely dresses. Then we went to the salon where I got my hair done. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I looked stunning, like one of those elegant girls I usually admired from afar. My heart swelled with happiness.
On our way out of the salon, just as we were about to enter the car, I heard a female voice behind us.
"Bolaji!"
We both turned. A beautiful lady, about his age, stepped out of her car and walked quickly toward him.
"Hah, Sandra," Bolaji said with a smile.
She rushed to him and hugged him tightly, as if I wasn't even standing there.
"Good to see you again! It's been such a long time, and you didn't even call me when you got to Nigeria," she said excitedly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Bolaji replied casually.
"So, when are we going to see again?" she pressed.
"I'll give you a call," he answered.
"Alright, dear," she said, hugging him again before walking into the salon. She didn't spare me a single glance.
I froze, my smile gone. Anger bubbled inside me. He noticed my frown immediately.
"She's just a friend. We went to the same secondary school," he explained quickly.
"And that gives her the right to act as if I don't exist?" I shot back.
"You know she doesn't know who you are."
"And you couldn't introduce me?"
"She didn't ask," he said casually.
"She looked down on me," I muttered.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'll talk to her, and she'll apologize," he assured me.
"There's no need. She did it intentionally."
He chuckled softly. "My baby is jealous."
"I'm not jealous," I said firmly, though my face betrayed me. "I just don't like the way she acted. And she hugged you too tightly."
He smiled again. "See? I told you—you're jealous."
I frowned deeper.
"Alright, alright," he said, reaching for my hand. "It's okay. I promise, she won't do that next time."
But as he dropped me home, I couldn't stop thinking. Why was he so comfortable hugging another woman like that? Or was I simply being jealous?
To be continued…