The ring felt like a live coal in Mina's palm, its intricate ridges pressing into her skin—a permanent brand of the choice she had just made. The world hadn't ended; the floor hadn't swallowed her whole. The only thing that had changed was everything.
Adams's hand remained closed over hers for a brief moment, his warmth seeping into her cold fingers. The devastating smile on his face was not one of triumph, but of profound, almost reverent gratitude. He looked at her as if she had just given him the city of Lagos itself, not her complicated, messy life.
In the corner, Safiya made a small, choked sound. The spell broken, Mina's gaze flew to her sister. Safiya's face was a canvas of shock, fear, and a dawning, terrible understanding. She looked from the joined hands to Mina's tear-streaked face, her own eyes wide.
Adams followed her gaze. Gently, he released Mina's hand, though the ghost of his touch remained. He turned to Safiya, his expression turning solemn and respectful.
"Safiya," he said, his voice deep and steady. "I know this is sudden. And unconventional. But I want you to know my intentions are honorable. I will speak to your family—all of them—properly. With the respect your sister and your entire family deserve."
Safiya could only nod, her throat working soundlessly. She looked utterly overwhelmed.
Adams turned back to Mina. "I should go. You need to… process. To talk to your sister." He reached into his agbada once more and pulled out a simple, burnished silver bracelet, its surface etched with a subtle, intricate pattern. It was beautiful but understated—not an object of extravagance, but a token of heritage.
"This was my mother's," he said quietly, holding it out. "She told me to give it to the woman who felt like home. I didn't understand what that meant until I met you."
The gesture undid her completely. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as he clasped the cool metal around her wrist. It fit perfectly, feeling both alien and like it had always belonged there. He didn't try to kiss her; he simply bowed his head slightly in a gesture of deep respect and let himself out, closing the door softly behind him.
The silence he left behind was deafening. Mina stood frozen, staring at the closed door, her right hand still curled around the ring while her left wrist bore the weight of his mother's bracelet.
"You said yes." Safiya's voice was a hollow whisper. It wasn't a question.
Mina finally turned to face her. The euphoria was already being chased by a tidal wave of anxiety. "Safiya, I… I had to."
"Had to?" Safiya pushed herself up on her elbows, a flicker of her old strength returning. "Mina, what have you done? Mama… Tunde… his family! They have already started planning! They're practically picking out the aso-ebi for your wedding with Tunde!"
"I know!" Mina cried, the words bursting from her. "I know all of that! But don't you see? That's the problem! It was all happening to me, without me! Tunde's family was planning with Auntie Grace. When did Tunde even ask me what I wanted? He just assumed—because it was settled."
"And this?" Safiya gestured wildly to the door. "This is better? A man you met three months ago who proposes just as we return from the hospital, simply because he paid our bills? Mina, open your eyes! However beautiful his words are, it looks… it looks terrible!"
"Since when do we care more about how things look than how they feel?" Mina shot back, her defiance fueled by a deep, terrifying uncertainty. She clutched the ring tighter. "He sees me, Safiya. Not just as a teacher, or a good daughter, or a future wife. He sees me. My mind. My heart. He challenges me. He doesn't just want to put me in his house; he wants to build a home with me. He paid your hospital bills when nobody else could. He saved your life when Tunde couldn't even pick up the phone. He was there through it all. He saved me from a bad omen—because if you had died in that hospital while visiting me, people would have said I killed you. Don't be naive and ungrateful."
"And what happens when the challenge is over?" Safiya's voice was sharp, laced with a cynicism that belied her years. "When the poetry books get old? When he's bored of arguing about destiny? You will be alone in a big house, Mina, and I won't be able to help you pick up the pieces. What if he is playing you? I understand he is a good man, but it was all transactional. This just proves it. If not, he would have rendered the kindness and disappeared. But there was a hidden agenda. He took advantage of the situation, and that isn't fair."
The prediction was a knife to the heart. It was her mother's fear, given her sister's voice.
Mina sank onto the edge of Safiya's bed, the fight draining out of her, replaced by a weary resolve. "I know the risks. I'm not a fool. But I also know what I feel. And what I feel with him… I've never felt it before. It's terrifying and huge, and it feels real. More real than anything I've ever known. I'm in love with him, and whatever you see that as, it's alright. He saved your life; you owe him your life, and I owe him for showing up when nobody else could. I will love him for that, I will be good to him for that, and I will cherish him always. Tunde can go ahead and find someone else."
She looked at her sister, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I have to choose the real thing, Safiya. Even if it's hard. Even if it's scary. I have to believe it's worth it."
Safiya studied her face, seeing the determination warring with the fear. She let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "You really love him?"
The words hung in the air—a truth so powerful it momentarily silenced all argument. Mina nodded, a fresh tear tracing a path down her cheek. "I think I do."
Safiya was silent for a long moment. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, she reached out and took Mina's hand—not the one with the ring. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "Then may God help us," she whispered. "Because you have just declared war on our family. And I…" She squeezed Mina's hand. "…I suppose I am on your side."
It wasn't approval; it was allegiance. It was a thousand times more than Mina had hoped for. The relief was so profound it made her dizzy. She leaned her forehead against her sister's, the two of them drawing strength from each other.
The moment was shattered by the shrill ring of Mina's phone. They both jumped. The screen lit up, illuminating the dim room. The caller ID was unmistakable: Tunde
.
Mina's blood ran cold. She stared at the phone as if it were a venomous snake.
"Don't answer it," Safiya whispered. "Not here. Not now."
"I have to," Mina whispered back, her voice trembling. "I can't hide from this. The longer I wait, the crueler it is."
"Mina, no. You're too emotional. You'll say the wrong thing. Let him wait until tomorrow."
But Mina's hand was already moving, driven by a sense of grim duty. She had made her choice with Adams; now she had to voice it to Tunde. To make it real in the world. She took a deep, shuddering breath and picked up the phone. Her hand, with his mother's bracelet gleaming on her wrist, shook violently.
"Hello? Tunde?" she said, her voice barely recognizable.
"Mina! There you are!" His voice was warm and cheerful, completely oblivious to the earthquake that had just leveled her life. "I was just thinking about you. My mother was asking about dates. She thinks next month would be good, before the rains get too heavy. What do you think?"
The normalcy of it—the uncomplicated momentum of his plans—was like a physical blow. Mina closed her eyes, the ring digging into her palm, a painful anchor to her new, impossible reality. She had made her choice. Now, she had to break a heart. And a family.
She opened her mouth, the phone pressed hard against her cheek, and forced the words out.