I wake up smiling, the kind of smile that happens before you even open your eyes. For a few seconds, I don’t know where I am.
The sheets feel too soft, the room smells expensive, the air-conditioning is so cold that I pull the duvet closer and then I remember.
My smile grows wider.
Oh, right.
I turn my head slightly, he’s still sleeping. Even sleeping, he somehow looks rich. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. Some people just look like they have never worried about money a day in their lives, he is one of those people.
One of the heirs to one of the biggest business families in Ikoyi. The kind of family that owns companies, properties and half the things you drive past every day without realizing and somehow…I’m in his bed.
I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling too much. Last night flashes through my mind…the dinner, the conversation, the laughter, the way he looked at me, the way he held my hand…everything after that becomes a blur of warmth and happiness.
I look at him again, I still can’t believe this is real. Carefully, I slide out of bed.
He doesn’t move.
Good.
I don’t want to wake him.
I stand up and look around. The room is ridiculous. No, that’s not the right word. The room is offensive, that’s the word. Nobody needs a bedroom this big. The bed alone is bigger than my entire hostel room. The curtains look like they cost somebody’s school fees.
I walk out of the bedroom, the hallway is even worse. I stop in front of a large mirror, for a second, I don’t recognize myself. Then I laugh, I look beautiful. My hair is completely scattered, I try to smooth it down with my fingers, hopeless, I give up.
I’m wearing his shirt, the thing practically swallows me. I button it halfway and then stop, I leave the first few buttons open. I turn sideways, then the other side…I actually look cute…very cute.
I laugh again.
What is wrong with me?
I look like one of those women in romantic movies. I can already imagine my friends screaming if they could see me.
I walk into the kitchen and immediately stop.
My God!
This kitchen alone is bigger than my parents’ sitting room. Everything shines, everything looks expensive, even the fridge looks rich. I don’t know how a fridge can look rich, but this one does. I slowly walk around, touching things, admiring things and trying not to look like a village girl seeing luxury for the first time.
Then my imagination starts doing what it does best.
Wandering.
I picture myself here, not as a visitor but as the owner. I picture myself waking up here every day. I picture myself graduating next year and moving into this life permanently. I picture myself becoming Mrs…
I stop myself.
Relax, Tolani.
But my heart doesn’t listen.
I smile anyway.
What if?
What if this becomes something?
What if we’re actually heading somewhere?
What if this is the beginning of my love story?
I start dancing around the kitchen, just a little dance. I even spin once then I laugh at myself.
I miss him already which is ridiculous because I literally left him two minutes ago.
I want him awake.
I want us to talk.
I want us to discuss us.
I want to know where this is going.
Then I have an idea.
Coffee.
I’ll make him coffee.
Very romantic.
Very mature.
Very wife material.
I look around and immediately realize I don’t know how to make coffee. The machine in front of me looks like it can launch a satellite.
Who designed this thing?
I press one button.
Nothing.
Another button.
Still nothing.
I almost give up, then I remember the internet exists.
Five minutes and one tutorial later, I’m still confused.
Ten minutes later, I finally understand.
Another five minutes and…
Success.
Coffee.
Actual coffee.
I take a deep breath, the smell is incredible. I don’t know why, but it smells like old money. Like generational wealth, like people whose surnames open doors, I grin proudly.
Look at me, making expensive coffee in an expensive condo for an expensive man. Life is funny.
I carefully carry the cup back to the bedroom, the curtains are still drawn, the room is still cold, he’s exactly where I left him. I place the cup on the bedside table and I sit beside him.
“Wake up.”
Nothing.
I smile, he is still sleeping.
I gently touch his shoulder.
“Good morning.”
Nothing.
I lean closer.
“Coffee is ready.”
Nothing.
I laugh softly, this man can sleep.
I shake him gently.
Nothing.
I shake him again, a little harder.
Nothing.
The smile disappears from my face, I stare at him.
Maybe he’s in deep sleep.
I place my hand on his arm.
Cold.
My stomach drops.
No.
I touch him again.
Cold.
No.
No.
No.
I shake him harder.
“Hey.”
Nothing.
I shake him again.
“Wake up.”
Nothing.
I sit up, my breathing becomes strange.
“Stop playing.”
Nothing.
I grab both his shoulders.
“Wake up!”
Nothing.
Suddenly the room feels too small, too quiet and too cold. A horrible thought enters my mind.
No.
No, no, no.
I put my hand near his face, I can’t tell.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
I’ve never done this before.
I don’t know how to know.
I don’t know anything.
“Wake up!”
I push him harder.
Nothing.
I slap his arm.
Nothing.
I start hitting him.
Nothing.
And then I scream, terrible scream, the kind that doesn’t even sound like me.
I jump off the bed.
“Oh my God.”
I start pacing.
“Oh my God.”
I pull at my hair.
“Oh my God.”
No.
This cannot be happening.
This cannot be happening.
I was supposed to graduate next year.
I was supposed to finish school.
I was supposed to become successful.
I was not supposed to be standing beside the bed of one of the richest men in the city wondering if he died in his sleep.
I start crying, real crying, the ugly kind.
“What do I do?”
I look at him.
He doesn’t move.
I look at the door.
I look back at him.
I start crying harder.
How do I explain this?
To who?
The police?
His family?
My parents?
My father sent me to university to study. How do I call him and say, “Good morning, daddy, I think a rich man’s son died while I was with him.”
He might actually stop speaking.
And my mother?
She will faint.
Then another thought enters my head.
His family.
I freeze.
“AAAHHHHHH!”
His family.
One of the richest families in the city.
The kind of people that can buy buildings.
The kind of people that know important people.
And me?
A Year Three student from an ordinary family.
I suddenly feel very small.
Very, very small.
They will crush me.
I don’t even know how, but they will.
They’ll think I did something.
Poison.
Drugs.
Blackmail.
Something.
Nobody will believe me.
Why did I come here?
Why?
Why didn’t I stay in my hostel?
Why didn’t I mind my business?
Why?
I sit on the floor and begin crying uncontrollably.
My hands are shaking.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe properly.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know who to call.
I don’t know what happens next.
I only know one thing. A few minutes ago, I was dancing in the kitchen and imagining my future, and now I’m sitting on the floor wearing a rich man’s shirt…staring at a man who won’t wake up.