My heart skipped a beat. Why do I feel guilty about what I’m about to tell Yemi? It’s not like we’re dating. Heck, I’ve only really known him for a week. Maybe it’s because he’s been so nice—someone I don’t want to lose. That must be why I feel this way.
“Hi, Yemi.”
“Hi, Dami. What’s up? Have you seen Daniel?”
“Yes, I just got to the office. I was about to call you when your call came in.”
“Okay. So…?”
I narrated everything Daniel told me.
“Do you believe him?”
“I think I do.”
“Ouch. Okay. You were the one who listened to him, so I guess you must have read him. If you believe him, it’s either because he’s telling the truth or he’s convincing enough to make you believe him.”
“Why are you sounding like that?”
“How am I sounding?”
“Like you don’t believe him—or me.”
“How am I supposed to believe this? This guy supposedly duped you of 900k, and in just one hour, you believe everything he told you? Am I missing something here? I thought women were supposed to be the more intuitive ones, able to smell a lie from a mile away. Why are you letting this guy mess with your head?”
“Why do I feel like you think you have this much say over my life because of the money you gave me? Remember, I didn’t ask for it; you offered. And you just said I was the one who heard him, meaning I should be in a better position to judge whether he’s telling the truth or not. You weren’t there, but you’ve already decided he’s lying. What’s your problem?”
Silence.
“I’m sorry. Maybe we should talk later,” he said and ended the call.
Oh my God. Did Yemi just hang up on me? Who does he think he is? Some guys get a little close, and they think they own you. Gosh! I must have been fooled by his niceness into thinking he was a good man. Now he’s showing his true colors—jealous and possessive. I’m sure he’s upset that I’m giving Daniel another chance. Men are just terribly jealous creatures.
I resolved to find a way to pay Yemi back his money. These are the kinds of people who would go on social media to call you out for collecting money from them.
He called me on my way back from work, but I refused to answer. I didn’t need someone like him in my life—someone so toxic and childish. Someone who couldn’t handle jealousy in a mature way. I was done.
He called two more times when I got home, but I still ignored him. Then, a WhatsApp message came in:
Hi Dami, I’m sorry for the way I sounded earlier today. I felt hurt that you equated my care for you with “ownership over your life.” If you were my kid sister and came to me with something like this, I’d have acted worse—I’d have insisted on meeting this guy myself. It was out of concern that I acted as I did. You’re a friend I hold dear. It’s true I’ve only known you closely for about a week, so I can’t even boast of knowing you well, but what I’ve seen in you gives me enough reason to want to call you a friend. I apologize for letting you down. I now understand that you’re an adult who knows what she wants and doesn’t need anyone telling her what to do. I promise not to mention this again. The money wasn’t a way to “buy you off,” so please don’t bring it up anymore. I value your friendship and hope not to lose it. Take your time deciding whether to forgive me (I really, really hope you do). If and when you do, please respond to this message or give me a call. Be good.
I read the message twice and tossed my phone aside. I tried to shut my eyes and sleep, but it wouldn’t come. Instead, Yemi’s message kept replaying in my mind.
I couldn’t hold a grudge against him—not for long—but I wanted to. The anger was my way of keeping him out of my thoughts. If I didn’t stay angry, he’d creep back in and affect my budding relationship with Daniel.
My phone rang. It was Daniel.
“So, you can’t call to check how your man is doing or whether he got home safely?”
I chuckled softly, the kind of laugh you give when you have no real response but want the other person to feel like you’re engaged.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, of course, I am.”
“But you’re unusually quiet.”
“I’m always unusually quiet,” I scoffed.
Silence.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Are you still bothered about me?”
“Oh, no. I’m just…”
“Just what?”
“Never mind. How are you? Have you settled in now?”
“Yes, I have. I hope you’re not thinking about substitute boyfriend?”
“Hahaha. You’re so unserious. What’s this about a substitute boyfriend?”
He always knew how to make me laugh. Maybe not as much as Yemi, though. Wait—why am I comparing them? I haven’t spoken to Daniel as much as I have to Yemi.
Okay, it’s official. I’m losing my mind. How did I meet two guys in the space of two weeks, and they’re already driving me crazy? You know what? I’m shutting them both out of my mind. I can’t deal.