I clutched the small bag of food and provisions I'd bought with my own money, taking a deep breath before ringing Daniel's doorbell. The faint smell of fried plantain and jollof rice filled the bag, along with a small bundle of essentials—things I knew he could use.
The door opened, and my stomach sank a little. His room looked exactly as I imagined: cramped, slightly worn, and modest. Posters peeling at the corners, a mattress that sagged in the middle, a small, cluttered kitchen barely functional. It was clear he was struggling....every corner whispered the kind of financial tightrope I knew all too well.
A voice called from the back room. "Daniel, who's at the door?"
"Morayo," he answered, and I stepped inside, trying to project calm I didn't feel. A young man—Daniel's roommate—peeked around the corner, curious but polite, giving me a small nod. I smiled briefly and looked away, focusing on Daniel.
"I… I thought we could… maybe talk," I said, placing the bag on the counter. "I brought some food… and a few things."
He glanced at the bag, then at me, and I realized instantly that peace wasn't what I was going to get.
"I don't need your charity, Morayo," he said, voice low but sharp. "You think money or food can fix what's broken between us?"
My chest tightened. "It's not charity, Daniel. I just… I thought it could help. I wanted us to… to make up."
"Make up?" he repeated, his tone incredulous. "After hiding things from me? After going to a party I didn't know about?"
I flinched, but tried to steady myself. "I didn't want to worry you. I just—"
"You just what?" he snapped. "You just decided to go behind my back? Morayo, we're supposed to trust each other."
The words hit harder than I expected, and I felt the sting of his word,mixing in my chest. I opened my mouth, tried to explain, but it sounded weak even to me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it from you. I was trying to protect… both of us."
Daniel turned away slightly, jaw tight, muttering under his breath. "Protect us? By lying?"
The roommate cleared his throat awkwardly and slipped back into his room, leaving us alone. Silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my heart pounding.
I tried one last attempt at peace. "Please… can we just eat? Just for a little while, talk later?"
He shook his head. "I can't do this right now, Morayo. I need… space."
I bit back tears, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. "I… I understand," I whispered.
I left the bag on the counter, turning to go, feeling the weight of my own helplessness pressing down. My hands shook slightly as I held the door open, my heart heavy with guilt and confusion. I had tried to do something kind, something small to mend what had broken....but instead, I left feeling like I had only deepened the divide.
As I stepped into the afternoon sunlight, I realized the truth I hadn't admitted before: Daniel's anger wasn't the hardest part. The hardest part was the growing pull in my chest that wasn't for him—feelings I couldn't ignore for Femi, feelings that made every step toward reconciliation with Daniel feel heavier, more complicated.
And the more I tried to fix what was broken with Daniel, the more I realized… some cracks might not be repairable at all.