7. A stumbling block.

Gozie suddenly appeared older than she was. I ran my hands through my hair, hating that I was the cause of her being so upset. She took a huge gulp from her glass and hissed.

"Gozie, please calm down. You are stressing yourself too much!"

"How can I calm down when my friend is suffering? You need to think rationally, Miracle—think with your head, not your heart."

"We battle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and power, against the…"

"Fuck all that trash. If there is any principality, then he is the principality and power. Have you not already given enough for him, eh? Have you not? You left your family, friends, degree, and job for him. You have given the best of your life and body for him, yet he doesn't appreciate it. Who is the principality now? Who is the devil? Answer me, Miracle, who is?" she hissed.

"You have to accept that you can't ever make your home as perfect as your parents' because Cletus is not a perfect man. He is not even a good man or a good person! He doesn't love you. When will you accept defeat and let him be?"

She was making a point, but I was too blinded by my love for Cletus to realize it. I wasn't being a Christian; I was being stupid. I was sure that even God in heaven would be ashamed of me. He didn't create me to be trampled upon, but here I was, being trampled on by a man.

God would want me to fight for myself, but here I was fighting against myself. How could He help me when I couldn't even help myself? But the truth is, I am a coward. Too scared of change. Too scared to be divorced.

"It's enough. Let's just talk about other things!" I begged.

She glared at me with anger, as if I had grown another head.

"Please, babe, I will think about all you have said, but I came here to have my moment of respite and happily speak to a friend about the good things in life so that I can remember that there is hope for me and for my daughter. Please, let me have it."

"Alright, fine!" She shrugged, taking the last gulp of her wine.

"Fine. Let's talk about other things. Let me create the bubble you need."

"Thank you." I smiled, inhaling deeply.

"How are my parents?" I asked with a sad smile.

"They are missing you. They ask about you every single day. There is no day that your dad walks into the office that he doesn't ask me if I have seen you. I have never seen a dad who loves his child that much, and I should know because my dad is useless. You are lucky to have a dad like him, Miracle."

I smiled sadly as a teardrop fell down my cheek. I immediately wiped it away.

"I miss them too."

"When will you go home? They want to see you."

I swallowed deeply as another tear fell down my cheek. My heartbeat accelerated. I stared at my fingers, twisting them into knots until they hurt. Gozie would not understand the pain, confusion, and shame I felt. I had already worked her up. I needed to give her peace. Only I deserved to suffer; I couldn't let anyone else suffer for the decision I had stubbornly made that led me here. I put myself in this situation, and I wouldn't let anyone else pay for it.

"How's work?" I asked.

She gave me a wry smile, knowing that I was not going to give in to talking about my problems and plans (even though I didn't have any).

"Work is fine. Your dad…"

~~~ ~~~ 

I was walking home. I had always loved walking for so many reasons—most of all, because it helped clear my mind. It was also good exercise, helping me lose weight so that maybe, just maybe, Cletus would find me attractive again and stop cheating. The pain of his betrayal was unbearable; sometimes, I felt like I might lose my mind.

My thoughts often consumed me while I walked, so much so that I barely noticed what was happening around me. This was one of those times. I was so lost in my head that I didn't realize a car was following me. Not just a car—a convoy. Seven black jeeps, with three Hilux trucks filled with soldiers.

I was about to cross the road when they stopped right in front of me, making my heart skip a beat.

Who could this be? A billionaire? A governor? Someone important, no doubt. Had I done something wrong? Or had I been so distracted that I walked into their path, and now they wanted to scold me for not paying attention?

Then, a man stepped out of the Rolls-Royce in the middle of the convoy. A Rolls-Royce. In Nigeria. In Enugu, no less. Whoever he was, he had to be among the top 0.1% of the rich.

He was striking. Dark like rich chocolate, with a diamond earring glinting in the sunlight. His haircut was neat, low, and sharp, and from beneath his sleeve, the edge of an angel-wing tattoo peeked out. His eyes—light brown—held something unreadable. He looked dangerously handsome.

I had seen men like this before—either he was filthy rich, or his boss was, and he was just a driver posing as someone powerful to impress women. It happened all the time in Nigeria. But I wasn't one of those women.

I tried to ignore him and keep walking.

But he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.