CHAPTER 78
The Quiet
Fireworks burst across the night sky, shattering the calm with sudden brilliance. Gold cascaded like falling stars, reds bloomed wide and fierce, and blues shimmered against the deep indigo sky. Soon, the resort came alive with the voices of my friends still partying. Their gasps, laughter, and quiet awe blended with the distant music, making everything electric.
The sky was alive, the ocean was glowing, and the night pulsed with color and sound… it was a magical night with a sense of calm.
I wish my life was calm.
After my intense conversation with Alice, I took a walk around the resort to clear my muddy head, but I ended up right where I started, and my mind didn’t feel any less foggy. Alice's ultimatum was not making things any easier.
The thought of letting Bewa go shattered my heart, and letting Frances go either would be catastrophic. I just needed to find a way to balance my two lives, and my first step would be to bring Bewa back into the fold.
How?
I really didn’t know, but I need to see her. So, I asked my PA to get me her room number, which he did.
Arriving at her room, I knocked but got no response.
"Hey, Bewaji, it’s me." I knocked again, and still got no reply. "Please, I just want to talk?"
The door opened, and I froze when I looked into the eyes of a confused Melissa.
"What do you want to talk to her about?" she questioned immediately. I opened my mouth wide, then closed it again when nothing came out.
"What are you doing here?" I finally voiced out, despite my shock.
She opened the door wider for me to look inside, and there, I found my mother and Frances. If I was shocked earlier, now I was just terrified of what might have transpired inside this room with Bewaji and these people I called my family.
"What are you all doing here?" I confronted them as I stepped inside, looking around, hoping I wouldn’t find her in tears.
"And what were you going to talk about with someone who cheated on you?" Frances taunted.
"Can we not throw stones here, France?" I glared at her. "And I believe I asked what you are doing here?" I turned to the others.
"For the same reasons you are here, answers. We want to know why she is here with Marcus," Melissa retorted.
"Are you serious?" I lamented, turning to my mother. "You have no right." She was supposed to be the more sensible person here; confronting Bewa with Frances was a bad idea. It exposed the very thing we were trying to hide.
"Don't look at her. And what do you mean she has no right? This is our plan," Frances retorted.
Indignation rose in me as I snapped, "No! This is my marriage; you have absolutely no business interfering in it." I paused. "Where is she, by the way?"
"She left," Melissa stated with indifference.
"Left?" I looked around and found no traces of Bewaji. "Just like that? What did you do to her?"
"Like what, Kylian?"
It was no secret that Melissa had an acute hatred for my wife, so I wouldn’t put it past her not to try to hurt her, especially after what happened tonight but I had no proof. I needed to talk to Bewaji, so I scowled at Melissa and turned to leave.
"She wants a divorce," my mother finally spoke, and I went rigid.
"What?" I slowly turned to the trio and saw her wedding ring on my mother’s outstretched palm. My stomach dropped before my mind could even catch up. It was sudden, raw, and almost surreal, like the floor beneath me had been yanked away. Soon, anger erupted within me at these people in front of me, because there was no way the Bewaji who spoke to Alice tonight would want to divorce me. My heart broke at what they could have possibly done to her.
"What did you do to her? Did you force that ring out of her hand?" I barked, directing my indignation at Melissa.
"Relax, Kylian. We were just trying to remind her of the contract she signed," she quickly said, taking a few steps back as I approached.
"I don't believe you."
"But that’s what happened. There was no way we could have known she would throw in the towel like that," Frances cut in.
"You’re forgetting to add the fact that Melissa slapped her," a hollow voice I recognized as Delphine’s came from the phone in my mother’s hand.
"Seriously, Delphine?" Frances questioned, while Melissa looked betrayed.
"You hurt her?" I barked, as a cold, sick feeling crept up my stomach.
Frances came between Melissa and me. "Are you planning on hitting her too? For Bewaji? Why can’t you take this as a win? She is divorcing you and you don’t have to worry about her father."
With a heavy sigh, I took a step back. Running my fingers through my hair, I sat down on the bed, frustration gnawing at me.
"So what? You slapped her and now you’re forcing her to divorce me?"
"Nobody is forcing anything. It’s her choice. Yes, I slapped her, I own that but we didn’t come here tonight thinking of divorce. We just wanted to talk to her and remind her of her contract. Divorce was her decision," Melissa argued firmly.
I turned to my mother. "And you just sat here and let everything happen?"
"Bewaji crossed a line," My Mother replied.
"Marcus is just her friend, and even if he is more than that to her, she does not deserve to be hit for that."
"The damage is done already," Frances stated with indifference.
"By whom?"
"Kylian..."
"Is that why you called Delphine?" I cut in sharply and chuckled. "To draw up the divorce papers?"
"That, and to know if the conditions in her contract still stand and guess what, Kylian?" Frances gave me a sickly bright smile. "She gets nothing."
"I doubt that. Bewaji only gets nothing if you can prove she’s involved with Marcus which she isn’t. And frankly…" I stood up from the bed. "I am not divorcing my wife for you or anybody. I will fix this."
I walked to the door and turned to face them again. "I need all of you to remember this. Bewa is my wife, and she is going nowhere." I walked out the door without closing it behind me.
"She is not back in France," I spoke over the phone to my father-in-law at the airport waiting room.
"Bewaji is no longer in our house. We told her to go back to France."
"Maybe, but she is still in Nigeria. I’m worried about her. Please, can you call her and…"
"Of course. She will be in France before the week ends," Bewa’s father assured me.
"Alright, sir." I hung up the phone and let out a heavy sigh. I couldn’t believe I was reduced to this, using her father against her but I really had no choice. She left France three weeks ago and has refused to come back. I can only fix things with her if she is in France.
I missed her so much.
At this point, I think "missing her" is an understatement. I yearned for her. Every small thing reminded me of her. I really missed the sound of her laughter, her warmth, her smell…
"Hey Kyks," a voice dragged me from my thoughts. I looked up to find Antoine Griezmann.
"It’s time to go."
I nodded and followed him to get my luggage.
After processing, I walked out of the airport, ignoring the calls of my coach, and entered the first taxi I saw.
Shame gnawed at me like a living thing, with whispers of how I had failed and let everyone down echoing in my mind. I replayed the kick over and over, imagining how it could have gone differently, each replay stinging like a fresh wound.
There was the anger, mostly at myself for failing when I was needed most. And underneath it all was an intense ache because the cheers and jeers of the crowd had been replaced with curses, insults, criticisms, and death threats. Going on social media now would be at my own risk. Soon calls came in from my family and friends, but I ignored my phone.
I just needed quiet.
So, when I alighted from the taxi, I ignored the driver’s request for a picture and went into my hotel. I entered the elevator, pressed the button for the penthouse, and inserted the key card on the elevator pad. Soon, I was going up, and when the door opened, I found my quiet.
Bewaji came up to me looking shocked, and just like that, every outside noise vanished.
TO BE CONTINUED ON NEXT SATURDAY, 9.00 PM WAT.
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