Three weeks since Sunbo's death was the first time Romola felt some sort of relief from the turmoil that was her life.

She was still seated in the wooden pews of the court, squeezing her handkerchief in place of her stepfather's neck. They would never have found him without Olumide's help.

The trial had been quick. She, Jide and Maami had testified and he was carried away on a second degree murder charge. He'd yelled that Sunbo's death was a mistake and that he would not have killed his daughter for anything in the world. It was a pitiful sight, watching a grown man cry but Romola knew better than to fall for his antics— this same man had fled after the act and he had been found in the arms of a farmer's wife.

Olumide had pulled some strings in the police force to get the case hastened. He had been present through it all. For all the 21 days till this date, Olumide had taken charge of everything. Someone who didn't know thier family, would've thought Sunbo was his own sister.

"Aunty Romola," Lolade tapped her hand. "Are you not going?"

"I'm coming." Romola slid further back into the chair.

"Mumy and everybody is going with Iya Nelson. The car is already full. Shey, you will come with broda Mide?"

"Wait—" Romola's words barely registered in Lolade's ears as the girl took off, running.

Romola stared at her sister in shock. Lolade had taken to Mide from the first day she saw him. Everyone had. Except maybe Jide but every evening, Lolade looked forward to Olumide returning and he did. Even when she, Romola, believed that he would not. He came back every evening after work and slept on that cramped dirty couch, along with members of her mother's relatives that had helped with the burial, coming from as far as Kisi— her mother's home town.

He took charge of everything; the burial, the hospital bills, where the guests would stay. Everything. She hadn't had to touch a thing unless she needed to and so, she hadn't really spoken to him since that night when he confessed. She hadn't really spoken to anyone either. Every word she spoke was a whisper between her Lolade, her mini mouthpiece. Even when she had to throw the first sand over Sunbo's coffin, she had been unable to say a word. Just a chortle that ended with sobs. Mide had been there too. Holding her without a word.

And everyday, he had sent her a handwritten note in a coloured little envelope. She had the notes stacked in a scattered pile on the plastic table in the room but she did not open them.

It was time to speak now. He was waiting for her answer to the question about them because all that had filled the past three weeks had been Sunbo.

Sunbo. Sunbo. Sunbo. Everything about this week had been coloured by her sister's death. From what she ate, to what she wore to what she thought. But it was time to give him an answer about them.

Romola rose, using the pew ahead of her for support. She walked down the aisle, nodding at the few faces that she recognised while her eyes searched for Olumide in the crowd.

She found him at the door, bidding his sister goodbye.

His sister held his sleeping nephew against her chest and shot Romola a focused look, then turned to Olumide, saying, "You'll pick me up then."

"Yes."

Ajoke shot another lingering hot look at her before turning and walking down the staircase from the courthouse to Iya Nelson's already cramped car.

"Wh... Why is she going with them? Not you?" She struggled to find her voice as these were the first words she had spoken directly to him since he slept outside her house to confess his love.

"She has something to do. Are you ready to go?"

Romola nodded, not trusting the words that would come out of her mouth. She had specifically avoided being alone at all times with him, going as far as using Lolade as a prop. Maybe that's why Lolade felt connected to him. Her sister must have read the sign wrongly and imagined that Olumide meant something to her.

Just like his sister had read it wrongly that she would mean something to him.

"Is someone else coming with us?" Her voice was hoarse, strange, detached. Uncomfortably robotic, dry and still.

Olumide stared at her with searching eyes. "No. If we leave now, we'll get to your house in an hour."

"Maybe Lolade—"

The sound of Iya Nelson's car sputtering to life under the weight of its eight back passengers while it tried to leave the compound sealed her fate. Lolade pressed her nose against the window and waved goodbye to them. With her sister gone, she felt her heart sink. It was just two of them. It was time to speak.

"Are you ready?" There didn't seem to be anything deep about his gaze but she knew what an hour alone with him in the car meant.

She caught Miss Oyama, from the corner of her eyes, talking to one of the lawyers and she was almost tempted to run and say she would go with her boss but the talk with Olumide had to be done. She at least had to thank him for all the help he had offered to her family. She had not been in the mental state to process her sister's death nor handle the responsibilities that came with it.

She nodded.

He led the way.

She followed.

He kept to a slow pace as they walked down the old cobblestone path lined with trees towards the car park. He walked like there weren't a hundred questions in the air that he wanted to know the answers to. Like they had all the time in the world.

With each step towards his car, anxiety ate deeper at her mind. What would he say to her? Would he take back his confession and tell her that he could not deal with her loud local family. Would he back out, now that he had seen her at her worst— all of it? If she thought she was ashamed when she had first met him, with a wrapper around her waist, how was she to feel now that he knew almost everything there was to know about her because her mother would not stop talking.

She bumped into him before she realised that they had got to his car.

"Careful." He held the door open for her.

She hesitated at the door. "Olumide—"

He began. "We need to talk."

She entered the car, keeping her eyes on the rough tortoise shell pattern of his car mat. It was best to get this over with. Better to let him off before he broke what was left of her heart.

As soon as he was seated, she began. "Olumide, I don't want to be the object of your pity. I—"

"I don't want to talk about us."

"You don't?" Her eyes widened.

"I don't. Do I like you? Yes. Do I want to marry you? Yes. But I can see you're not ready for that and I'm not going to force you. There is something else I've noticed that worries me more."

"What?"

It had to be her family right? It had to be where they lived and their status. It had to be that he had seen clearly now, that he would be a better fit with an elegant and educated woman like his sister or his mother. Someone of his own class.

"Why are you shutting yourself away from everyone?"

The questions was so different from what she had imagined that her brain shut down for a full two seconds. She took her time to answer, knowing his question was armed and not sure if he meant it in relation to them or everyone else. "I'm not."

He put his seat belt across his chest and indicated for her to do the same.

"I don't." She said, as she strapped herself in the chair.

"You haven't spoken to your mother in weeks. Nor your brother. Not even Lolade. You only use her for errands."

"You're not going to come and tell me how I should speak to my family. Did my mother send you?"

"She didn't and if she had, I would understand. You may grieve in your own way but understand that the people in your life are here to help you."

She turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Are you saying I should forget Sunb?"

"That's not what I'm saying. Grieve but don't let it swallow you. Don't cut yourself from your family or your friends. Hadassah has been crying because she can't talk to you."

"And so what?" Tears flowed very closely to the surface of her eyes. "It's not fair. Sunbo had goals and dreams. Now, the whole world moves on like nothing happened."

"Yes. It's not fair but you are exchanging your life for grief. You haven't been eating right or sleeping.. I know you cry yourself to sleep. I hear you every night and it hurts that I can't help you but hurting yourself won't make the pain go away. It'll only dig a bigger hole that you'll try to fill with more pain and you'll never be able to until the hole consumes you. You don't have to start big. Just, give yourself the chance to at least grieve with those grieving with you. They understand."

She knew what he was talking about. The pain that clawed at every free space in her mind. It started at the hospital after she was revived. She has tried to crawl into a ball and she wished herself out of existence. Out of the pain of living when a loved one no longer had the chance.

"How? Where do I begin? Do you that I would rather not feel anything than this at all?"

He gave her a sidelong glance, weighing his words before he began. "I never told you the full story about Muyiwa. You asked me how I got the scar on my waist. I'll tell you. Muyiwa's death was the worst thing that happened to me. He was my elder brother and I looked up to him for everything. To me, he was an unstoppable force. He would put his mind to anything and achieve it. What killed Muyiwa didn't look like much. It was less than half of my palm but my brother slept and never woke up because of me."

She heard the pain in his voice. It was raw. Maybe his voice was more stable because years had passed between but the pain was still evident.

"Mide." She reached for his arm with hers, hoping to provide the comfort that she was unable to receive herself.