“I thought you were getting married.”
“Apparently he couldn’t handle all my drama, not everyone is as patient as you” I tried to play it off as a joke, but dad didn’t see the humor in it.
“When did it happen?”
“A while back; I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“But-,”
“I have to go.” Cutting my dad off isn’t something I do often, but it’s worth whatever yelling I will get later, “I’m on the road and I have to concentrate.”
“Call me when you get back to the office.”
“I have a meeting,” I lied, “I’ll try to call you after.”
He didn’t even respond. He knows I won’t call him. He just ended the call.
I groaned and laid my head against the steering wheel. All I needed now was a glass of wine and a really nice movie.
As if on cue, my phone let out a beep.
I picked it up and stifled the urge to let out another groan. I still have sketching to do. I will need a break by the time I’m done tonight, and I knew exactly who to call.
“Google, call Olivia.”
CHAPTER 2: SEVEN DAYS POST BREAK-UP (STILL)
My phone had been going off nonstop for the past hour.
At first it was just a bunch of random people on the internet assuming they knew better. They had their own thoughts and opinions on what should or could have happened.
I turned on the notifications for the company social media accounts on my phone so I get notified whenever someone posted something or tagged us.
Shortly after the review went live, my mom called; she turned on the notifications too. If I was being honest, I was not ready to hear her tell me that I should have been nice or I should have just sold it to her in order to avoid bad press.
After ten minutes of her blowing up my phone, I sent her a one line text.
“I’m not sorry, she was a bitch.”
She stopped trying to call me after that and I put my phone on silent.
I was in the middle of sketching a new dress when my door flew open. A tongue lashing was at the edge of my lips, but I looked up and realized who it was.
“Did I interrupt something?” her tone was light and teasing. She knew she just interrupted me and she knew I was just about to lose my shit.
Olivia Balogun was the closest thing I have to a sister. We met each other in college when she almost stabbed me in the eye with a pencil while she was arguing with a bully.
It was a very funny incident, I thought she was bat shit crazy, so imagine my surprise when I walked into my dorm and saw her sitting on one of the beds. I almost called my dad to come pick me up.
I honestly thought she would murder me in my sleep.
We honestly hated each other at first. I found her to be an annoying party girl who was loud and messed up my schedules. She thought I was a stuck up, obnoxious brat who had control issues.
We were both right, we just learnt to live with each other and it helped that we both Nigerians who couldn’t speak our language. She had a valid excuse though, her dad didn’t speak Yoruba either and her mum was Greek.
I liked to think that God paired us up for a reason because we both tried numerous times to have our rooms changed.
Fast forward a few years later and I can’t imagine my life without her. She has engrained and intertwined herself in every single thing that concerned me. She is in every core memory that I owned.
