Chapter 5: The Ring and the Question

Ikenna look happy, carry paper bag come.

First time in weeks, smile dey his face. Na rare sight. The bag dey neat, ribbon even dey side.

Even though I don rehearse my talk, my heart still dey beat.

My mouth dry, palm sweaty. I dey pray make I no break down for his front.

As I rush help am hang coat, I no even notice wetyn he carry.

My hand dey shake small as I adjust hanger, but I still try act normal.

Then, as I look up, I meet his eye, talk serious:

"I get something for you."

My voice low, but e steady. I dey try summon all the courage wey remain for my body.

For once, small smile show for Ikenna cold eye. He nod: "Mm, I too get something for you."

His smile na small miracle—like dry well wey bring water. My heart skip, confusion hold me.

I shock, ask, "Wetyn be that?"

He look like he no get patience, just pull me sit, give me the paper bag.

His hand gentle for my waist, as he push me softly to chair. "Open am," he say, voice quiet but strong.

I open am, my mouth hang.

For inside the bag, the ring dey shine, new but familiar. My hand dey tremble as I hold am.

Na ring—exactly like before.

The weight for my palm heavy with memory. I flash back to all the times wey I roll the old one for my finger, dreaming say e mean more.

Simple for eye, but the material and work strong. So na why he rush commot for noon—no be meeting, na to go remake the ring.

I gree, my heart dey twist. So all this while, he still dey reason me? My eyes moist small, but I blink quick.

Ikenna warm, big hand hold my wrist, gently put the ring for my finger:

He fit my hand perfect, as if na destiny. For that moment, I almost forget my pain.

"No lose am again. By the way, wetyn you say you wan give me?"

His eyes dey soft, expectant. I dey search for words, but my throat lock.

"I..."

Sharp pain just hit my chest. For that moment, I no fit breathe.

I clutch my heart, the paper still dey my lap. Tears press for my eyes, as I wonder if this na end or beginning of another round of heartache. My tongue heavy, my spirit dey shout for help, but my mouth still dey try find words for am. Ikenna’s eyes dey search my own, like say he dey wait for answer wey I no sure I fit give.