CHAPTER TWENTY
CAROLINE
I walked into my one-room apartment and dropped my bag on the floor before sitting heavily on my bed. The evening heat clung to my skin like a wet cloth, and I fanned myself with the envelope that once carried my résumé. Another long day. Another disappointment.
I unlocked my phone and checked my email again, praying for even a single response from the companies I had applied to. Nothing. I scrolled through endlessly, refreshing the inbox as though my desperation could summon a reply.
Silence.
When I handed in my resignation at Flower Plus, I had been so certain of myself. I thought that stepping out was the best decision—that I was too smart, too educated, too refined to stay stuck in one place. I told myself that the world would open wide its doors and usher me into a better life.
But here I was, weeks later, still jobless and living on borrowed money.
The irony stung. A bird in hand is worth more than ten in the bush, indeed.
The small loan Lovett gave me was almost gone. Every week, I found new reasons to delay paying my rent. My landlord's tone had started to shift from patient to suspicious, his visits growing more frequent. I was running out of excuses—and time.
As for Nicolas, whatever spark had once tried to ignite between us flickered out before it even began.
He had been kind, though. After hearing how little I earned at Flower Plus, he'd looked at me with that quiet disapproval men wear when they think they can fix your life. He asked me to quit, said I deserved better, and handed me two hundred thousand naira to "keep body and soul together" until something else came up.
I had taken his advice, too eager to believe something better waited ahead. Now, after a month and a half of nothing, fear gnawed at my stomach each morning like hunger.
He said he was out of the country. I didn't even know whether to believe him anymore.
I rose, straightened my dress, and picked up my bag. The walls felt like they were closing in, so I decided to step out—to breathe.
The restaurant smelled of grilled seafood and perfume. My eyes swept the room until I found Lovett waving from a corner table. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, her nails freshly done, her laughter already filling the space before I even reached her.
"Hello, dear," I greeted.
"Hello, dear," she mimicked in a high tone, making a face. "Are we on the phone now?"
I chuckled, sinking into the chair beside her. "You, of all people, will never take me seriously."
"Exactly," she said with a teasing smile. "How's the job hunt?"
I sighed and picked up the menu just to avoid her gaze. "Not good. I'm beginning to think I'm not employable."
"Don't say that, Caroline. You're one of the smartest people I know. It just takes time."
"Time?" I snorted. "Time doesn't pay rent. Or buy food."
Lovett tilted her head, her tone softening. "So what will you do?"
I hesitated. "I've been thinking of starting a goods supply business."
She blinked, interested. "What kind of business?"
"Buying eggs in bulk and supplying to fast-food companies. I already found one company willing to try me out."
"That's a good start," she said, leaning closer. "But do you have enough capital?"
I smiled weakly. "You guessed it. I'll need money for storage, transport, and of course, to pay the farmer. The two hundred thousand I have won't cover all that."
Lovett tapped her nails on the table, thinking. "Then be the middleman. No need to stock the eggs yourself. Get the buyer and the farmer to transact through you. Less risk, faster turnover."
I looked at her, impressed. "That's actually smart. I could make profit without spending too much."
She smiled proudly. "Sometimes, you just need to see the loophole and fill it."
Just then, the waiter arrived to take our order. After she left, Lovett's grin returned—mischievous this time.
"On a lighter note," she said, "someone still asks about you."
"Who?" I frowned, pretending not to understand.
"My guy's friend," she said, arching a brow. "Don't tell me you've forgotten his name."
I waved dismissively. "Oh, that one. Didn't he say he was abroad?"
Lovett laughed. "Abroad? He's been back for weeks!"
I blinked. "Really? He has my number."
"And you have his," she shot back. "You could at least call him. After all, you brushed him off the last time."
"Please, Lovett," I sighed. "I'm not in the mood for men. Right now, I just want to fix my life."
She smirked knowingly. "Tell that to the bird. We both know a certain man once left you walking funny for a whole day—and he hasn't left your mind since."
I burst out laughing. "You're impossible!"
Her laughter grew louder, contagious, filling the room. People turned to look at us, and we both struggled to stifle our giggles.
"You're cruel," I said, wiping tears from my eyes.
"Cruel but honest," she said, biting her straw. "Face it, Caroline, you've not moved on."
"Whatever." I smiled faintly, looking down at my half-empty plate. "This seafood though—it's heavenly."
Lovett nodded, satisfied. "You're smiling again. That's better."
When we finished, I brought out my purse, but she stopped me with a firm hand.
"This is on me," she said.
"No, we'll split it."
She shook her head. "Caroline, I invited you here. Let me take care of it."
I sighed. "You've done enough. I don't want to feel like a charity case."
"You're not," she said gently. "You're just going through a phase. Besides, I'm sure when your business kicks off, you'll spoil me plenty."
Her words warmed me. I smiled—and then, suddenly, my stomach twisted.
A strange nausea rose in me so fast that I barely had time to react. I clamped a hand over my mouth and rushed to the restroom.
My stomach revolted, and I emptied almost everything I had just eaten. By the time I rinsed my mouth and looked into the mirror, my reflection looked pale and drained.
"What is happening to me?" I whispered.
It wasn't the first time. This had happened twice already this week.
Moments later, Lovett's voice came from the door. "Caroline, are you okay?"
I forced a shaky smile. "I'm fine. It must be something I ate."
She frowned. "We eat this same food every time. It's not the food—it's you." Then her eyes narrowed. "Did you use protection with Nat?"
I froze. "What?"
"You heard me," she said, crossing her arms.
"No! It's probably just a toilet infection. I use the public one too often, you know?"
Lovett didn't blink. "Caroline, answer me properly. Did you or did you not use protection with him?"
I sighed, feeling the weight of shame pressing down on me. "We didn't. I was too shocked afterward to even think about it. All I wanted was to forget it happened."
Lovett's gaze softened. "And you haven't seen your period since?"
Her question hit me like a slap. My mind started counting backward. I couldn't even remember the last time I bought sanitary pads. My heartbeat quickened.
"Oh my God," I murmured, pressing my palms against my face. "It's been weeks… maybe more."
Lovett reached for me and pulled me into a hug. "It's okay. We won't panic until we're sure. We'll get a test. One step at a time."
I didn't move. My body felt like stone.
Nat. Of all people. The thought of him made my stomach tighten again—not from nausea this time, but from raw fear and shame.
"Lovett," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Will this humiliation ever end?"
She didn't answer. She just held me tighter. Then, slowly, she led me out of the restroom—step by step, as though we were walking into something neither of us could yet name.