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BEFORE I SAW YOU
PART TWO: THE UNRAVELING
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Chapter 11: The Honeymoon (Before the Storm)
Three months after that first meeting.
Three months of stolen hours. Park benches. Late night calls where they fell asleep on the phone. Texts that started with good morning beautiful and ended with dream of me.
Her mother thought she was at a friend's house. She was really in his car, listening to old music, his hand resting on her knee like she was something precious.
He never pushed. Never rushed. Held her hand like it was made of glass and gold at the same time.
One night, parked under streetlights, she looked at him and said:
"I'm happy."
He smiled—that slow, real smile she'd learned to recognize.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I didn't know it could feel like this."
He kissed her forehead. Soft. Reverent.
"It's only gonna get better," he whispered.
She believed him.
She shouldn't have.
---
Chapter 12: The First Crack
It started small.
A text he didn't reply to for six hours. A call that went straight to voicemail. A something came up that felt too familiar.
She told herself not to panic. People got busy. Life happened.
But the second time he disappeared for a whole day, her chest tightened.
Abïkë: You okay?
Oluwasegun: Yeah. Just work. Sorry.
Abïkë: You can tell me if something's wrong.
Oluwasegun: Nothing's wrong. I'm here.
But he wasn't. Not really.
She could feel it—the distance creeping in like fog. Invisible until you're lost in it.
---
Chapter 13: The Other Woman (Plot Twist)
She found out on a Tuesday.
Not from him. From Facebook.
A woman tagged him in a photo. Older. Beautiful. Hand on his chest like she belonged there.
Caption: My favorite person. ❤️
Abïkë stared at the screen. Zoomed in. Read the comments. Saw his sister reply: Tell him to call me!
Sister. Not girlfriend.
But the panic was already flooding her veins.
She called him. No answer. Called again. Voicemail.
By the time he called back at midnight, she'd convinced herself it was over.
"Abïkë? Everything okay? I saw you called—"
"Who is she?"
Silence.
"What?"
"The woman. On your Facebook. Hand on your chest. Who is she?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
Then, quietly:
"My ex."
The word hit like a slap.
"Your... ex."
"Abïkë, listen—"
"No. YOU listen. You've been distant for weeks. You disappear. You don't call. And now I find out you're still talking to your ex? With pictures like THAT?"
"It's not what you think—"
"Then explain it. Make me understand."
He was quiet for so long she thought he'd hung up.
Then:
"She's sick, Abïkë."
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Chapter 14: The Truth Behind the Distance
"What?"
"She's sick. Really sick. Cancer. She found out two months ago."
Abïkë's anger faltered.
"I didn't know how to tell you," he continued, voice heavy. "We were together for three years. She was my person before you. And now she's... she's dying, Abïkë. And she has no one. Her family's gone. She called me because she was scared. And I've been trying to be there for her without losing you."
"Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Because I was scared you'd think I still loved her."
"Do you?"
The question hung in the air like smoke.
"I love her like a memory," he said finally. "I love you like a future. They're not the same."
Abïkë closed her eyes.
"I need to see her."
"What?"
"Take me to meet her. I need to see with my own eyes that she's not a threat."
"Abïkë, that's—"
"That's what I need. Take it or leave it."
---
Chapter 15: The Hospital Room
She was thinner than the photos.
Much thinner. Pale. Tubes in her arm. But her eyes—those were still sharp. And when Abïkë walked in, those eyes sized her up in one second flat.
"So you're her."
Abïkë stood by the door. Oluwasegun beside her, tense as a wire.
"I'm Abïkë."
"I know who you are." The woman—Tolu—smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "He talks about you constantly. It's almost annoying."
Awkward silence.
Then Tolu laughed—a real one, raspy from sickness.
"Relax, baby girl. I'm not gonna bite. I'm dying, not evil."
Abïkë blinked. "I didn't—"
"You did. It's fine. If I were you, I'd hate me too."
Oluwasegun stepped forward. "Tolu—"
"Relax, Segun. I'm not here to cause problems. I asked you to come because I needed someone. She's the reason you stayed. So I wanted to thank her."
Abïkë's heart stuttered.
"Thank... me?"
Tolu nodded, eyes glistening.
"He could've run. Could've left me alone in this room. But he stayed because you taught him how to love without conditions. So thank you. For making him someone worth knowing."
Abïkë didn't know what to say.
So she did the only thing that made sense.
She walked to Tolu's bed. Sat down. Took her hand.
"You're not alone," she whispered. "Neither of us is going anywhere."
Tolu stared at her. Then tears slipped down her cheeks.
"You're gonna be okay," she breathed. "Both of you. I can feel it."
---
Chapter 16: The Death
Three weeks later, Tolu passed.
Oluwasegun was holding her hand when it happened. Abïkë waited outside the room, crying for a woman she'd only met once.
The funeral was small. Just family. A few friends. Abïkë stood in the back, watching him crumble and rebuild himself in real time.
At the grave, he didn't speak. Didn't move. Just stared at the casket like he could bring her back with willpower alone.
Abïkë didn't touch him. Didn't say it's okay because it wasn't.
She just stood beside him. Present. Solid. There.
When everyone left and the grave was covered, he finally spoke:
"She was my first love."
"I know."
"I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
He turned to her, eyes red, wrecked.
"Move forward. Without her. Without the guilt."
Abïkë looked at him. Then at the grave. Then back at him.
"You don't move forward," she said softly. "You carry her with you. And you let her make you better. That's how you honor her. That's how you survive."
He stared at her like she'd just handed him a lifeline.
"How do you know that?"
She almost laughed.
"Because I've been carrying things my whole life. And I'm still here."
He pulled her into his chest. Held her like she was the only thing keeping him upright.
And for a moment, they just breathed together.
---
Chapter 17: The Mother
But the world doesn't pause for grief.
Two weeks after the funeral, Abïkë's mother found out.
A text left open on her phone. A name she didn't recognize. A quick Google search that led to Facebook, which led to photos, which led to screaming.
"23?! You're telling me this man is 23 years old?!"
Abïkë stood in the living room, heart pounding.
"Mama, let me explain—"
"Explain WHAT?! That you've been sneaking around with a grown man?! That you've been lying to my face for almost a YEAR?!"
"He's not some random—"
"He's 23 and you're 16! That's not a relationship, that's a CRIME!"
The word hit like a blade.
"It's not like that—"
"It's EXACTLY like that! You think I don't know how these things go? You think I didn't see it happen to girls your age when I was young? They end up broken. Pregnant. DROPPED. And you expect me to just—"
"He's not like that!"
Her mother stepped closer. Eyes burning.
"Then where is he? Why isn't he here, fighting for you? Why am I yelling at YOU and not at HIM?"
Abïkë had no answer.
Because Oluwasegun didn't know. Because she hadn't told him yet. Because she was scared.
And in that silence, her mother saw everything.
"You're gonna end it," she said quietly. "Today. Right now. Or so help me, I'll call the police myself."
---
Chapter 18: The Goodbye That Wasn't
She met him at the park. The same bench where they'd watched the sunset months ago.
He knew something was wrong the second he saw her face.
"What happened?"
She couldn't look at him.
"My mother knows."
Silence.
"Everything?"
"Everything."
He sat down heavily. Rubbed his face.
"What do you wanna do?"
"I don't know."
"Abïkë. Look at me."
She did. And the tears she'd been holding back spilled over.
"I can't lose you," she whispered. "I can't. You're the only good thing."
He pulled her close. Held her while she shook.
"You're not gonna lose me," he said into her hair. "I don't care who knows. I don't care what they say. I'll wait. I'll wait until you're 18, until you're 20, until you're 80 if I have to. You're it for me."
"What if they don't let us wait?"
He pulled back. Looked at her with something fierce in his eyes.
"Then we fight."
---
Chapter 19: The War Begins
And fight they did.
Her mother blocked his number. Threatened a restraining order. Called his workplace anonymously. Spread rumors in the neighborhood.
He lost his job.
Didn't tell Abïkë for two weeks. When she found out, she lost it.
"You should've told me!"
"And what would you have done?! You're 16! You can't fix this!"
"I could've been there for you!"
"I don't need you to be there—I need you to be SAFE!"
They yelled. Cried. Hung up.
First real fight.
Three days of silence.
Then, at 2am, a text:
Oluwasegun: I'm sorry. I'm just trying to protect you.
Abïkë: I don't need protection. I need a partner.
Oluwasegun: Then teach me how to be one.
She stared at the screen. Wiped her eyes. Typed:
Abïkë: Show up. That's it. Just keep showing up.
Oluwasegun: I will. I promise.
Abïkë: Even when it's hard?
Oluwasegun: Especially then.
---
Chapter 20: The 18th Birthday
Two years later.
Abïkë sat in her room, staring at the mirror. 18 years old. Legal adult. Free.
Her mother had softened over time. Not fully—never fully—but enough. Enough to stop fighting. Enough to let Abïkë breathe.
And Oluwasegun?
He'd kept his promise. Showed up every single day. Found a new job. Saved money. Waited.
At midnight, her phone lit up.
Oluwasegun: Happy birthday, beautiful. Look outside.
She walked to her window.
He stood on the sidewalk below, holding a single rose and smiling up at her like she was the moon.
She ran downstairs. Barefoot. In her pajamas. Didn't care.
When she reached him, he held out the rose.
"I told you I'd wait."
She laughed—wet, happy, free.
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm in love."
She kissed him. Right there. On the street. At midnight. 18 and finally allowed to choose.
When they broke apart, he whispered:
"Now what?"
She smiled—the kind she'd been saving just for him.
"Now we start."
---
Chapter 21: The Proposal
Two more years.
She was 20. He was 27. College almost done. Life finally stable.
He took her back to the mall. The same bench where they'd first met in person.
"Remember this place?"
She laughed. "How could I forget? I was terrified."
"Me too."
"You didn't look terrified."
"I was. I just hid it well."
She looked at him. Really looked. Saw the boy who'd lied to keep her. The man who'd waited for her. The human who'd grieved and grown and never stopped choosing her.
"Why'd you bring me here?"
He reached into his pocket. Pulled out a small box.
Her heart stopped.
"Oluwasegun—"
"Let me talk. Please."
She nodded, eyes already wet.
"I met you because of a wrong number. I kept you because of a lie. I almost lost you because of fear. But I've spent every day since trying to be worthy of the girl who stayed on the phone with a stranger."
He opened the box.
A simple ring. Perfect. Her.
"I don't have a lot to offer. Just me. Just my word. Just a lifetime of showing up."
He dropped to one knee.
"Abïkë. The girl who cried on her bedroom floor. The woman who taught me how to love. Will you let me keep showing up? Forever?"
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only feel.
"Yes."
"Yeah?"
"YES. Get up. Kiss me. NOW."
He laughed—stood—pulled her in.
And on that bench, in that mall, in front of strangers who'd never know their story, they held each other like the world had finally stopped trying to tear them apart.
---
Chapter 22: The Wedding
Small. Intimate. Perfect.
Her mother came. Didn't smile much, but came. His family filled the other side. Tolu's photo sat on a small table near the altar—because she was part of this too.
When Abïkë walked down the aisle, Oluwasegun forgot to breathe.
She wore white. Simple. Her. And the look on his face? She'd carry it forever.
The vows weren't fancy. Didn't need to be.
"I lied to you once," he said, voice rough. "I'll spend the rest of my life earning back the trust you gave me anyway. You're my wrong number. My right answer. My forever."
She laughed through tears.
"You kept showing up," she whispered. "That's all I ever needed. That's all I'll ever need."
They kissed.
And somewhere, in the back of the small hall, a woman who'd once called the police smiled just a little.
---
Chapter 23: The Phone Call
One year later. Married. Asleep in each other's arms.
3am. Phone rings.
Oluwasegun groans, reaches for it. Sees the number. Sits up fast.
"Who is it?" Abïkë mumbles.
He doesn't answer. Just stares.
"Babe? Who is it?"
He turns to her, face pale.
"It's... it's Tolu's number."
Abïkë freezes.
"That's impossible."
"I know."
The phone keeps ringing.
"Answer it," she whispers.
He does.
"Hello?"
A voice. Female. Familiar. But not Tolu.
"Oluwasegun?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
A pause. Then:
"My name is Kemi. I'm Tolu's sister."
His heart stops.
"She had a sister? She told me she had no family—"
"She lied. She had us. She just... cut us off. But before she died, she wrote letters. For everyone she loved. Mine came late. I just found it. And in it, she mentioned you. And your wife."
Silence.
"She said to tell you something."
"What?"
"She said: 'Tell them I'm proud. Tell them I'm watching. Tell them the wrong number was never wrong. It was fate.'"
Abïkë grabs his arm, tears streaming.
Oluwasegun closes his eyes.
"Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you for calling."
"One more thing."
"Yeah?"
"She left something for you. Both of you. Can we meet?"
---
Chapter 24: The Letter
A coffee shop. Two days later.
Kemi was younger than they expected. Mid-20s. Tolu's eyes.
She handed them an envelope. Worn. Handwritten:
For Oluwasegun and Abïkë. Open when you're ready to remember.
They opened it together.
Inside, a letter:
---
My favorite people,
If you're reading this, I'm gone. But also? I'm not. Because love doesn't die. It just changes shape.
Oluwasegun. You were my first love. You'll be my always love. Not in the way that takes from her—in the way that adds to you both. She's the best thing that ever happened to you. I knew it the second I met her. Take care of her. Let her take care of you. Don't hide from each other. Not ever.
Abïkë. My sweet, fierce girl. You walked into my hospital room ready to fight me. And then you held my hand. That's who you are. A warrior with a soft heart. Don't ever lose that. And don't ever let him forget how lucky he is.
I asked them to bury me with this photo. It's the three of us. That day in the hospital. You holding my hand. Him standing behind you. We looked like family. Because we were. Because we are.
Take care of each other. Live loud. Love harder.
And when you have kids? Tell them about their Auntie Tolu. The one who loved their parents first, so they could love each other forever.
Forever yours,
Tolu ❤️
---
They finished reading. Looked at each other. Cried.
And then, for the first time in years, they laughed. Together. Through tears.
Because Tolu was right.
Love doesn't die.
It just changes shape.
---
Epilogue: Five Years Later
A little girl. Age 4. Curly hair. Her mother's eyes. Her father's stubbornness.
She sat on his lap, pointing at a photo on the wall.
"Daddy, who's that?"
He looked at the photo. Three people. A hospital room. A moment frozen in time.
"That's your Auntie Tolu."
"Is she in heaven?"
"Yeah, baby. She is."
"Does she watch us?"
He smiled—soft, sad, grateful.
"Every single day."
The girl nodded like that made perfect sense. Then she pointed at another figure in the photo.
"Is that you, Daddy?"
"It is."
"You look sad."
"I was. But then I looked to my left."
"Who's that?"
He glanced at the kitchen, where his wife was making tea, humming, alive.
"That's your mama. She's the one who taught me how to smile again."
The little girl considered this. Then:
"Daddy?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm hungry."
He laughed—loud, real, full.
"Come on, let's go find your mama."
He stood, daughter in his arms, and walked toward the kitchen. Toward his wife. Toward the life they'd fought for.
Behind him, the photo stayed on the wall.
Tolu's smile, captured forever.
Watching.
Proud.
Exactly where she belonged.
---
THE END.
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🍿THE END✍🏾
Thanks for taking your precious time to read my novel☦️💙
I appreciate
.Author.
Øłüwäsëgüñ