She searched through her drawer and scattered the albums, she closed the drawer and opened the one that had been locked with a key for years.
The key had been safe but she had intentionally stayed away from the contents in the drawer, they contained notes, pictures that brought back painful memories.
She let out a deep breath as she unlocked the drawer, she felt the tight contraction in her heart as her eyes stumbled on the yellow shiny note that welcomed her first.
She took it out and read the contents again:
‘To an amazing Princess, the girl I wish to wife someday.
The girl who confuses my nervous system with her enchanting smile.
I love you.
From your Prince. *winks*’
She took out the sheet and looked at the handwriting, there had been several notes, how the guy she had assumed to be an angel had ended up treating her like scum was a mystery.
Images of him and Kenny making out in Unilag came to mind, she tore the paper into shreds. She had no prince as far as she was concerned.
Every Queen needed a King, a princess ought to have a prince, man and a woman, even other creatures had a spouse but here she was, she had dared to go with the design of nature following her heart at the thought that her prince had actually come her way but had been burnt in the process.
She picked the album she had been searching for, she had come to get it for Femi, it would be nice introducing him to her old school friends before the main day.
She picked the album and locked the drawer while picking the shreds and emptying into the dustbin.
She was simply a princess without a prince.
He saw Iya Bobo washing her clothes at the front of the compound and he could not help but wonder why she was not washing at the backyard.
He greeted her and asked if she delivered his errand the previous night.
“Yes oh,” Iya Bobo replied while standing and cleaning her wet hands on her wrapper which was tied in an unrefined form, “Abeg Baba Victor she don dey cry too much, make una settle hen. Na beg I dey beg you.”
He nodded and proceed to his room, he had made her cry when she had actually not cheated on him.
Scratch that! He had made her cry first by cheating on her with Sandra and now he had made her cry when she had actually not cheated on him, as much as he tried to convince himself that he was not to blame, he found it hard.
Who had refused to talk things through? The answer was simple and straight, he had.
Who had assumed things all along? He had.
Who had chosen to run from his problems instead of facing it like a man? He had made that choice and if there was one thing he had learnt now, he would never assume things until he got to know what actually went down.
He tried to open the door only to discover it was locked, he knocked severally and after waiting for some minutes without any response, he left the door.
Where could she be now? His phone battery was flat and there was no way he could make a phone call. He came out of the building after enquiring from Iya Bobo about Omoye’s whereabout.
The woman had claimed she had no idea, he was on his own.
For one, he really hoped she was at her shop and not at her parents place, he would not be happy if he discovered she had taken the matter to her parents.
He stopped by the bus-stop while scanning the road for any free bike or vehicle.
He had given up and resorted to trekking the distance when a bike stopped in front of him.
“Where?” The man asked.
Osagie described his destination and hurriedly hopped on the bike while coaxing the man to increase his speed.
They were almost approaching the street where Omoye’s shop was located when the bike broke down.
What? Was he jinxed or something? What was with the turn of events that had been happening to him all this while?
“Oga wetin happen?” he asked, he could trek the remaining distance but it would be rude if he simply got down and ignored the old man.
“I no know oh,” The man replied while trying to kickstart the engine of the bike to life.
“Oga take money, I dey go.” Osagie replied while handing him a note.
He began to make his way to his destination, he had almost approached her shop when he saw her locking it from outside.
He smiled inwardly, at least she had not gone to her parents house.
“Omo,” he called.
Omoye turned obviously startled by the way he had screamed her shortened name.
“Osas,” she replied while leaning against the gate, “I’m sorry,” she continued, “I truly am.”
“I’m sorry too Omo, I’m sorry for making you cry all the time. We need to talk but know that I’m sorry.” Osagie replied.
“No Osagie, you’ve done nothing wrong. You have nothing to apologise for, I wronged you in so many ways and I regret it.”
He paused, “It was a mistake Omo, thank God it was not that terrible, try to understand that.”
She kept quiet, he held her hand and hugged her, “Let’s go home and talk Omo.”
There was no point prolonging the matter, he would simply hear her side of the story.