The familiar creak of the front door echoed through the hallway as I stepped into the house, each footstep feeling heavier than the last. My stay at Aunt Abigail’s was a rather short one, that woman didn’t offer any form of consolation, plus my heart hasn’t been at ease since I left. Who knew what that witch was doing to my husband?
The house was quiet, but the tension hung thick in the air—an unwelcome reminder of the war that awaited me here. Kolade wasn’t home, and I was relieved. I needed a moment to breathe, to prepare myself for the inevitable confrontation. My eyes scan the living room, and I notice Riyah’s belongings casually strewn about, marking her territory as if this house were hers. I feel my stomach churn with disgust. How had it come to this? How had I let Riyah claim everything I held dear? I moved to the kitchen, hoping to see the aftermath of our last argument. The shattered kitchenware had been swept away, the countertops wiped clean. Good at least she had the common sense to clean up, she’s lucky Kolade intervened I might have smashed her face after.
The front door clicks open, and I stiffen, knowing it’s Kolade. His footsteps were slow and deliberate, and soon he appeared in the kitchen doorway. His face expressionless, as it had been for years—a mask he wore to keep me at a distance.
“You’re back,” he says, his tone flat.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be?” I shoot back, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.
Kolade shrugs, not bothering to look at me directly. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”
I gritted my teeth. “Did you have fun playing house with Riyah while I was gone?”
His eyes finally meet mine, but there is no warmth in them.
“You’re being dramatic, Nolana.”
Here we go again…
“Dramatic?!” I echo, my voice rising.
“You’re letting her take over our home, our lives, and I’m the one who’s being dramatic?”
Kolade sighs, clearly irritated.
“You’ve always loved her, and now you finally have her back. You’ve made it clear that I don’t matter.”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react at all to my words. Of course he won’t he has always been a brick when it comes to me.
“Believe whatever you want, Nolana. I don’t owe you an explanation.” He says, the coldness in his voice sending a shiver down my spine. He really doesn’t care.
All these years, I had tried to convince myself that there was something between us, that he might one day see me as more than a convenient replacement. But it was a lie—a cruel, painful lie. Before I can respond, Riyah’s voice drifts in from the hallway.
“Kolade, are you home?”
I tense as she appears in the doorway, a smug smile playing on her lips as she takes in the scene. “Oh, Nolana, you’re back,” she says, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realize.”
Kolade straightens, his expression hardening as he turns to Riyah.
“Yes, I’m home,” he says, his tone indifferent.
Riyah saunters into the kitchen, her presence filling the room with an air of triumph. “We need to talk,” she says, addressing Kolade but keeping her eyes on me.
My blood boiled as I watched them. This wasn’t just about their history anymore—it was about power. Riyah was trying to push me out, to erase my presence in this house, and Kolade was letting her.But I wouldn’t let her win. Not like this.
“If you have something to say, Riyah, say it in front of me,” I challenge, stepping closer to them. “I’m still Kolade’s wife, and I have every right to be part of whatever conversation you’re having.”
I refuse to grant any form of privacy.
Riyah’s smile widened as if she had been waiting for this. “Oh, don’t worry, Nolana,” she says sweetly. “This is just about some arrangements for the house. After all, if we’re going to be living together, we should all be comfortable.”
Who are we?
My hands clench into fists. “This is my home. You’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”
Kolade steps between us, raising a hand to silence me.
“Enough, Nolana. Riyah’s right—we need to find a way to live together.”
The betrayal cuts deep, but I refused to let them see my pain.
Is this how it was going to be now? Him taking her side all the time?
Stupid me. What did I expect?
“ I refuse. I will never agree to it” I say, turning on my heel and marching out of the kitchen, leaving them behind.
I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I was going to find a way to make Riyah regret ever coming back. It was only a matter of time until Dimeji came back with some news, then I would be rid of her once and for all.
As I walk out, I hear Riyah’s voice again, low and conspiratorial, but I can’t make out the words. It didn’t matter. I knew one thing for sure: I was at war, and I was going to fight with everything I had.
•••
Unknown
The room was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the dim overhead bulb that flickered sporadically, casting eerie shadows on the cold, concrete walls. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin crawl and your breath catch in your throat.
The man standing by the door shifted uncomfortably, clutching a small, worn envelope in his hand. He wasn’t new to this kind of meeting, but this one felt different—heavier, more dangerous.
“Come in,” a deep, commanding voice rumbles from the darkness, sending a shiver down the man’s spine.
He steps forward cautiously, approaching the large mahogany desk where the silhouette of a man sits. Even in the dim light, his presence was overpowering, the kind that made you instinctively bow your head in submission. The man stopped a few feet from the desk and cleared his throat.
“I have news, sir.”A pair of cold, piercing eyes stared back at him, barely visible in the shadows. “Speak.”
With a trembling hand, the man places the envelope on the desk.
“We’ve found her,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “And… there’s something else.”
The man behind the desk doesn’t move, but his eyes narrow slightly. “Go on.”
The informant swallows hard, pulling out a photograph from the envelope. He hesitates for a moment, then places it carefully in front of the man. The room falls silent as the man behind the desk reaches for the photo.
His fingers held the picture steadily, but the was a dangerous tension in the air like the calm before a storm. As he holds the photograph up to the light, the image slowly comes into focus. It was a wedding picture, slightly creased at the edges but clear enough to reveal the faces of the couple smiling nervously at the camera.
The man’s gaze lingers on the bride for a moment—Riyah, looking radiant in traditional wedding attire, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Then, his eyes shift to the groom standing beside her, and a flicker of recognition sparks in the man’s eyes, quickly replaced by something much darker. He stares at the groom’s face, his expression hardening as realization dawns on him.“Him,” he hisses.
The informant nods quickly, sensing the change in the man’s demeanor. “Yes, sir. He goes by the name Kolade now. We weren’t sure where he’d disappeared to all these years, but… it seems he’s been hiding right under our noses in Kizolo.”
The man’s grip tightens on the photograph, the edges crumpling slightly under the pressure. His eyes, now filled with a cold fury, burn into the image as if willing it to burst into flames.“So, he’s alive,” the man said quietly, more to himself than to the informant. “And married to Riyah.”
The informant nods again, this time more cautiously. “Yes, sir. It appears they’ve been living together in that small community. We’ve also gathered some intel on his current activities. He’s kept a low profile, but… this changes everything.”
The man behind the desk finally looks up, his eyes locking onto the informant’s. “This is valuable information,” he says slowly, his voice laced with malice. “You’ve done well.”
The informant exhales, relief washing over him. “Thank you, sir.”
The man’s expression remains cold, calculating. “Keep an eye on them. I want to know every move they make. And prepare the others. It’s time we visit an old friend”
“Yes, sir,” the informant replies, quickly turning to leave the room. As the door closed behind him, the man in the shadows stared at the photograph once more, a sinister smile creeping across his face.“Kolade,” he murmured, his voice dripping with venom. “You thought you could run… but you can’t hide from me forever.”
