Mirrors and Mirage
42
__________ _
Days drift by like passing clouds, and as much as I try to push aside the heaviness in my heart, it lingers. Special and I have resumed our conversations, but it’s as if a veil of strain has settled between us. Yes, we exchange pleasantries and talk about mundane things, but the depth, that connection that used to define us has dwindled. The easy banter we once had is tainted—it’s all forced and mechanical now.
I respond to his messages out of obligation, rather than genuine excitement. I never bring up Alice’s call, he never speaks about it. I get lost in my own thoughts during our conversations, wondering if this is what we’ve become. When we would get past this.
I’ve tried. I’ve tried to bury my hurt and anger, to mend what was broken by reading books, watching self-help videos and practicing self-affirmations, but the wounds run deep. It’s hard to move forward when trust has been shattered, when the foundation built has cracked.
Every interaction feels like I’m walking on eggshells, careful not to upset the fragile balance we’ve established. It’s a far cry from the love—from what we used to have.
Why am I still with him when I know I deserve a relationship where I’m valued and respected, where my dreams and aspirations are supported?
Seven years. Over seven-good-years!
Letting go after seven years—four years of knowing each other, three years of dating—is not easy. Despite the gnawing feeling in my chest telling me it might be time to let go, it’s a difficult decision to make.
As days turn into a week, I struggle with the voices in my head—one says to let go, another says to hold on till we regain the spark we once had and maybe, just maybe, it might shine brighter.
*****
The glow of my phone’s screen illuminates my face as I connect with Special through a video call. His image appears on the screen, and for a moment, I’m taken aback by the fierce emotions that surge within me. It’s a strange feeling, looking at someone who was once such a significant part of my life become insignificant with each rising sun.
“Hey,” he greets me with a smile, his eyes holding a warmth that used to make my heart flutter.
What happened to, Fifi baby… ?
Returning to the moment, I reply with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes, “Hi.”
“How’s everything on your end?”
“Good, good,” I answer, keeping my responses concise like I’ve been doing since we resumed talking. I can’t help but feel guarded around him, as if I’m protecting myself from potential hurt.
He raises an eyebrow. “You seem a bit distant today. Is everything okay?”
Bro, I’ve been distant since that day in your apartment where you asked, ‘Are you okay?’
Taking a deep breath because I requ ested this call, I gather my thoughts before I speak. “So… I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want in life. About the kind of life I want to build for myself.”
“And what have you come up with?”
I hesitate for a moment before continuing, damning whatever nasty retort he might have up his sleeve. “I want more than just comfort. I want a life of luxury, of abundance. I want to achieve my dreams, to experience the world, and to enjoy the finer things of life.”
A playful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “So, you’re saying you’re going to become the world’s most sought-after tech-girl? Like an influencer?”
I chuckle softly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe not the world’s most sought-after, but I want to excel in my field and contribute meaningfully. I want to create a life that’s fulfilling, both personally and financially.”
He studies me for a moment before his expression changes to a more serious one. “You know, baby, I can’t really compete with you in that regard.”
I furrow my brows, not fully understanding his response. Is this the same Special? “What do you mean?”
He lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “I mean, you’re on this path of professional growth, making more money, excelling in your field. And I’m here, trying to figure things out on my own terms.”
I scrape a hand over my face as if to wash away the twinge of frustration tempting to overwhelm me. “Spesh, this is not about competition. It’s about supporting each other in our individual journeys.”
He looks at me, his gaze intense. “I know that. Is this a trick call or something?”
“No, it’s not. I was just sharing my recent thoughts with you.”
“Okay, because I was just sharing that sometimes it’s hard not to feel inadequate. You’re doing so well for yourself, and I’m still finding my way.”
I take a deep breath, realizing that there’s more beneath the surface. “God sees my heart; I’ve never intentionally tried to make you feel inadequate. All I want is for us to support each other. That’s all.”
He nods slowly. “I get that. I re ally do. And I do support you.”
“Yes, you do. But this time, I need you to go steps further.” I reach out and touch the screen as though the single act along would bridge the distance between us. “I think you feel overshadowed by me and I don’t want you to feel that way. I don’t know any other way that would show you that I truly love and care for you. That I respect you. Look at me now, do you think I’ll be here if you didn’t persuade me to consider travelling out? Every day, I pray for you. I sing your praises to anyone who would listen. You’re my person. My number one person. If I make mistakes, I expect you to correct me with love, not make me feel stupid. It messes with my head. The whole who would move thing, I need you to be realistic about it. I don’t mind working and you taking care of the home, but I know you won’t like that, so I’m eager to help you apply to jobs even before you move. I—”
He gives me a faint smile, as he interrupts my tirade. “I’ll try my best, Fifi. I really will. I’m sorry about what went down. It is the last and only time. For the work and moving over part, yes, you’re right. It’s hard to compete with that.”
I lean in closer to the camera, wanting him to understand the depth of my feelings. “I don’t need you to compete with me. I just need you to be there, to stand by my side as I pursue my dreams for us. And I’ll do the same for you.”
He exhales slowly, his eyes locked onto mine. “I’ll do my best, baby. I promise. I love you and I cherish what we have.”
What we had…
*****
There are silver linings to heartbreaks.
Take now, for example. I’m tying up my fresh pair of running shoes, gearing up for a run to clear the mental clutter in my head. Once I step outside, the cool evening breeze brushes against my skin, letting me know this is a good decision. Earlier, some Slack messages at work hinted at a park run, and I figured, why not give it a try?
With each step, my thoughts are unr aveling. I am pondering over the recent conversations I’ve had with Special. I want to believe we can work through our differences, find a compromise, and create a path forward.
As I complete my run and catch my breath, I reach for my phone to check for any notifications. To my surprise, there is a missed call on WhatsApp from an unfamiliar number. A quick glance at the caller ID reveals the name “O. O.,” with a profile picture that causes memories to rush back to me.
Why is Obinna calling me after all this time? Last time it was Alice. I wonder what’s happening now. Although something tells me to ignore it, out of curiosity, I dial the number.
“Hello?” The voice is deep and unchanged. It takes me back to that day at the airport where I met him and Alice for the first time. It’s indeed Obinna, Special’s big brother.
“Hi, Obinna. It’s Fifi,” I reply, trying to sound composed.
“Fifi! Oh, wow, it’s been ages. How have you been?” Obinna’s enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself smiling despite not knowing the purpose of his August visitor call.
“I’ve been good, thank you. How about you?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Obinna chuckles. “Busy with life, you know how it is. But that’s not why I’m calling. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Curiosity piqued, I lean against a park bench. “Sure, how can I help?”
He takes a moment before he speaks. “It’s about Special. I know you two have been going through a rough patch, and I wanted to offer my perspective. Family’s important, and I hate seeing my brother this way. I know he can be... difficult, but he has a good heart.”
His words strike a chord within me. Here is someone who knows Special from a different angle, someone who can shed light on his complexities. This approach is way better than the nonsense Alice tried doing that day.
“Thanks for reaching out,” I say sincerely. “I appreciate your concern. The thing is—I mean we are already working on—hello?” I ask as there is a sudden shift in the background noise on his end.
“Can you hear me?” I ask, straining to listen. I think I catch a snippet of a scream, then a voice—a child’s voice. “Um… hello? Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Oh, hold on a second,” he repl ies, his voice distant.
I wait on the line, seconds ticking by. Sounds from his end seem to multiply, blending into an indistinct cacophony. I try to catch any words or context, but it is like piecing together a puzzle without all the pieces.
As I walk the remaining few minutes to my apartment, my mind wanders. I hope the child is fine—Special once mentioned Obinna becoming a father to a baby he had outside of wedlock. Is that the child or is he out visiting someone?
The background noise persists. This hold on one second is going to seven minutes. At least, he should have muted the call or ended it. I doubt he will return to the call anytime soon. With a sigh, I push open the door to my apartment and step inside.
Deciding to freshen up with a shower, I set my phone down and let the warm water wash away the tension of my run. If he returns before I do, he can hang up and I’ll call back.
As the water cascades over me, I get lost in thought. When I emerge from the shower, I check my phone and—are you kidding me? The call with Obinna is still ongoing.
I pick up my phone, hesitating for a moment before making a decision. It is clear something extremely important came up, and the lingering background noise only adds to my confusion.
With a resigned sigh, I end the call. My decision to hang up isn’t because I’m frustrated, but rather out of a need to maintain some semblance of privacy. I can’t be dressing up and speaking with my boyfriend’s brother.
After drying off and changing into comfortable clothes, I am heading to the kitchen to toss something together, when my phone rings again with the same number from earlier—Obinna’s. I pick up my phone, ready to greet him with a smile and a comment about the earlier call lasting too long.
“You’re not worthy to be part of our family, and deserve what’s coming to you,” Obinna’s voice cuts through the line, laced with an intensity that sends a chill down my spine. “You’re spoilt. Hmph. Is this what you allow Special deal with?”
My heart races as his words hit me like a tidal wave. The shock of his accusations and the venom in his voice leave me grasping for a response. The ground is shifting beneath me, leaving me unsure of which foot to stand on .
“Simple instruction, hold on, you couldn’t oblige,” he continues, his tone dripping with disdain. “You better change your ways if you want to remain with Special. Or you think you’re too big because of your salary? You that we took from Nigeria to start afresh abroad. To think that I’ve been on your side all along.”
The room is closing in around me as his words echo in my ears.
What is happening? What did I do? Is this a prank?
Obinna’s voice carries a tone of finality as he says something in what I believe is their local dialect followed by a sharp, dismissive “Hmph,” before abruptly ending the call, leaving me staring at my phone in shock and disbelief.
“What the heck is going on?” I mutter under my breath, my voice trembling as I cast a glance around my apartment.
Someone needs to pinch me and tell me this is all just a cruel joke.
What just happened?
The meal I was going to prepare has lost its appeal. I retreat to the nearest seating option—my couch—to process the verbal assault I just endured.
Out of nowhere! Out of nowhere, the accusations and insults seem to come out of nowhere. With everything Obinna revealed, that means… the private relationship I thought I had with Special was just an illusion. It’s obvious they’ve been discussing my matter for a while.
Wow…
The room remains silent, save for the echo of my racing heartbeat. I need to take crucial next steps. What? So… years of long-distance relationship is at risk of crumbling under the weight of outside influences, not solely due to our actions. How could I have been so mistaken about my understanding of Special?