Wednesday
BUKKY POV
January – After New Year's Day
New Year's Day didn't end when we left Akanni's parents' house.
It lingered.
In the quiet way his mother hugged me before I left.
In the way his father nodded at me—not probing, not suspicious—just accepting.
And in the way Mira treated me.
That surprised me the most.
I had expected distance. Coldness, maybe. Polite tolerance at best. After all, Mira had been part of Akanni's life far longer than I had. She had stood beside him through family dinners, church events, company gatherings—wearing the label of fiancée, even if it had never been real.
Yet, from that New Year onward, she was… kind.
Not performative kindness. Not forced smiles.
Real.
She checked on me when Akanni got too busy at work. She asked about my schedule, my business ideas, my parents. Sometimes she even defended me—especially when Busayo still struggled to fully accept that things had changed.
And I knew.
I knew Mira had feelings for Akanni.
Anyone with eyes could see it. The way she watched him when she thought no one noticed. The restraint in her voice whenever she spoke about "the past." She never crossed a line, never interfered—but emotions don't disappear just because situations change.
One afternoon, weeks after New Year, I asked her directly.
"Do you ever feel like I took something that was meant to be yours?"
She paused.
Then smiled sadly.
"No. I feel like I was borrowing something that was never mine to keep."
That was when I understood her.
And respected her.
February – Love Is Not Always Soft
Akanni and I didn't float through love untouched.
We fought.
Not dramatic, loud fights—but the kind that digs into pride and fear.
Our first real argument came in early February.
He cancelled plans. Again.
Work had kept him late—studio schedules, meetings, family expectations. I understood that. What I didn't understand was silence.
"You could have called," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I was going to," he replied.
"You always say that."
He frowned. "Bukky, I'm trying."
"And I'm tired of always understanding."
That one landed.
We didn't speak properly for two days.
I cried the first night—not because of the argument, but because I was afraid. Afraid of becoming the woman who kept shrinking herself to accommodate a man's life. Afraid of losing him. Afraid of loving him more than he loved me.
When we finally talked, it wasn't pretty.
"I don't want to lose myself," I told him. "Not for love. Not for anyone."
He listened.
Really listened.
"I don't want you to disappear into me," he said quietly. "I want you beside me. If I ever make you feel invisible, stop me. Don't endure it."
We didn't promise perfection.
We promised honesty.
That night, we laughed again. Ate late. Talked until sleep crept in gently.
Love settled—not loudly, but firmly.
March 1st – A Feeling I Couldn't Name
By March, something had changed.
Akanni was more present. More intentional. He asked deeper questions. Watched me closely, like he was memorizing me.
Sometimes I caught Mira watching him too—but not with longing anymore. It was more like closure.
One evening, as Akanni dropped me off, I had the strangest feeling.
Like something was approaching.
I couldn't name it.
But my heart felt… prepared.