The Ghost of the Past: Maxwell's Return.
My engagement brought an unexpected change in my relationship with my mother. For the first time in years, she called me daily, her enthusiasm almost palpable. She was thrilled, eager to ensure I didn't have a sudden change of heart.
During one of our calls, she mentioned that she and my father had already started preparing for the wedding.
"I've informed your brother and the rest of the family," she said with a delight that seemed to spill through the phone.
I sighed but chose my words carefully. "Mom, let's not rush things. Fredrick and I have to plan this together. You and Dad still need to meet him before we even talk about dates."
She paused, clearly taken aback, but quickly adjusted. "Alright, then. Bring Fredrick to see us this weekend instead of next," she said, her tone firm.
I shook my head, knowing how my mother hated it when things didn't go her way. "We've already agreed on the date, Mom. It'll stay as planned."
She didn't argue further, though I could sense her disapproval in her silence. Moments later, my eldest brother Jayden called from the U.S. to congratulate me. His voice was warm, and he promised to return to Nigeria with his family for the wedding. The thought of seeing him again after so many years brought a smile to my face.
Soon, my phone felt like it belonged to a celebrity—calls and messages poured in, especially from my cousins, who were thrilled by the news. Many had teased me for years, joking that I might not even like men because I had been so private about my relationships.
Knowing how competitive my mother's family was, I decided the wedding had to be grand. A lavish celebration would not only satisfy my mother but also give her plenty to boast about.
Fredrick, ever supportive, encouraged my plans. We discussed venues, themes, and even a honeymoon in the Maldives. His love was unwavering, his words always filled with warmth and sincerity. He had a way of making me feel cherished, like I was the center of his universe.
But in the back of my mind, a lingering fear remained—what if he left me too?
That evening, Fredrick called to ask if he could take me out for dinner. His charm was as irresistible as ever.
"Come on, baby," he coaxed. "I just want to enjoy a meal while looking at your beautiful face."
"Sweetheart, not tonight," I replied softly. "I have patients to attend to early tomorrow morning, and I need to rest."
He sighed dramatically. "Alright, I won't push, but you've broken my poor heart tonight."
I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll make it up to you, honey. Promise."
"You better," he teased, his laughter warming me. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," I whispered before ending the call, my heart full of gratitude for him.
As soon as the call ended, another one came in from an unsaved number. I hesitated, puzzled. I always saved contacts immediately, so this had to be a mistake. When the caller didn't relent, I finally answered.
"Hello?" I said cautiously.
Silence greeted me at first, followed by a deep, husky voice that sent shivers down my spine. "Hello, MMA."
I froze. That voice—it was unmistakable. My heart pounded in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.
"Who is this?" I asked, though I already knew.
"It's me, Maxwell," the voice said.
My phone slipped from my hand, landing on the bed as I sank onto my blue couch, hugging my knees to my chest. This can't be real. This has to be a nightmare.
Summoning the courage to pick up my phone, I checked the number again. It wasn't international; it was a local Nigerian line. My fear deepened.
I stood, pacing back and forth in my room, my thoughts a chaotic mess. Should I call Fredrick? Would he understand?
The air in my room felt heavy, oppressive, as though some dark force had entered with Maxwell's voice. I could hear my own voice muttering, "Why now? After seven years? Why did you have to come back?"
Desperate for a lifeline, I dialed Sarah's number, but her line was busy. Frustrated, I tried to text her, my trembling hands struggling to type. After several attempts, I managed to send, Call me back ASAP.
With nothing left to do but wait, I sat on the edge of my bed, my heart racing as I stared at my phone, praying for Sarah's call to bring some clarity—or at least comfort—to the storm brewing within me.