𝓛𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼

𝘼Ƅοｖ𝗲 𝗂𝙨 Е𝗇ჿ
______________________________________

I have nobody to see me in my gloomy state after Omoh left for Uche's home in Ajah. I walk from room to room in the house, trying to quiet the many voices that are simultaneously clamoring in my thoughts.

Since Chidi's remarks startled me yesterday, I have not been able to gather myself. When people see how agitated I've become, they can comment that I'm acting like a child. However, the truth is that I am frightened rather than restless about the separation.

I'm worried I might be cursed. I mean, my history with men has drawn me to that conclusion. Either that or I attract the wrong kind of guys. Maybe, just like the saying goes, you attract who you are; maybe I'm the wrong woman who attracts the wrong men. I doubt that. Maybe I'm searching in the wrong places.

Argggg! I'm lost in my own self; Ubong deceived me, and all the other men despise me, but I'm not going to dwell on that any more. I have my priceless jewel, Unwana, and I have to be the best mother for her.

All I have to do is first take the word "men" out of my lexicon. Help me, God. 2. Remove anything that makes me think of a man I've known in the past. I need to find happiness, move past my past, and somehow begin a new chapter in my life.

I fling the door to my room ajar, revealing walls painted in a delicate shade of lavender, casting a soothing aura upon entering the room. At the side of my queen-sized bed, dressed in soft baby blue linen with plump pillows in various shades of white, pink, and blue neatly arranged against its headboard and a throw blanket made of warm coral yarn placed at its foot, stood a large window that allowed sunlight to penetrate through flowery white curtains, gently illuminating the room.

Clutching tightly the large, black nylon in my left hand, I allow my eyes to roam the room in search ofatthe first thing to be thrown in it. Finally, my gaze finds a framed picture of my daughter, Chidi, and me, taken last holiday at the amusement park, resting majestically on a traditional wooden dressing table which occupies the corner of my room. The side of the table has a small shelve on it where I arrange most of my beauty products and a beautiful oval shaped mirror framed in gold which, originally, reflects the soft glow of the room now reflects me slowly approaching the table.

I gently pick up the picture and watching it brings back memories-memories I wish so badly to forget. I fixed my gaze on Chidi, on what could have been, and almost didn't notice the tears rolling down my cheeks. I sniff quickly and wipe the sides of my face with the back of my left hand. Then, I remove the picture from the wooden frame angrily, tearing out Chidi's image from the picture and shredding it into small pieces before tossing it into the large nylon I held. I take down everything given to me, from the first guy I dated to Chidi, hopefully the last guy I would ever date again.

Surprisingly, there are lots of gifts. The cute, pink teddy bear Chidi gave me last valentine, the sliver key necklace, the perfume, the sexy red dress, the wrist watch, Louis Vuitton purse, and many other that were difficult to part with.

It is exhausting to always have to do right by the guy, so I am determined to give up dating and focus more on improving myself.

I scoff as I catch sight of a flyer I kept long ago, pressed beneath a Mills and Boon romance novel I was reading last night on the single armchair upholstered in ash-colored fabric in front of a small bookshelf that stands against one wall, lined with an assortment of well-loved books and magazines.

I pick up the flyer. "Hmm," I sigh. I never knew this survived my daily cleaning, "This is a good start." I say as I read through it:

I notice a large yellow star shape with the words "Govt. Approved" inscribed on it at the top left of the flyer, close to the italic written text that reads: Greg School of Entrepreneurship, a six-month course of learning the basic principles of sustaining a business and also skill acquisition training.

I place the bulky nylon on the floor next to my right foot as I sit on the side of my bed. I pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans and dial the number listed on the brochure. The phone is placed on my left ear, and I wait expectantly for the ring. A woman's voice answers the phone a few seconds later and says,

"Hello, this is Greg School of Entrepreneurship; how may I help you?" she asks civilly.

"Hi, my name is Eno. I was given a flyer from this institution, and I'm calling to confirm if the registration is still ongoing." I say.

"Yes, ma'am, registration is still on. You are advised to visit the school administration office. For more inquiries." The lady at the end of the line adds.

"Thank you." I reply gratefully, then end the call.

Wearing a small smile on my face, I pick up the nylon bag while getting to my feet. I scan my room one last time, making sure I get everything that needs to be thrown away, then I make my way downstairs. The sun is still very hot outside. I can feel my eyes struggling to stay open as the ray of sunlight threatens to blind me. I move closer to the trash bin, open it, and dump a nylon bag inside it. "Chapter close." I whisper, dusting my hands together.

Relive and be free, I exhale deeply, smiling. "At least, this is a start," I say as I ascend a flight of stairs leading to my apartment.

1014 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘