Chidi continued before she could speak. “You are used to a different life. People like you can joke with feelings and move on. People like me cannot afford that.”
His words hit harder than she expected. For a second, she almost felt hurt. Not because he was rude, but because he clearly believed she could never be serious.
“I’m not joking.”
He shook his head. “That is what they all say at the beginning.”
“They?”
“The people who think this is funny.”
Imani’s chest tightened. So he had heard the whispers too.
“You think I care what people say?” she asked.
“You may not,” he replied. “But I do.”
She saw it then. What she had been calling coldness was not coldness at all. It was pride. It was caution. It was the fear of becoming a story in other people’s mouths.
Chidi tightened his grip on the bottle in his hand. “I do not want anyone saying I am following you because of your money,” he said. “I do not want anyone saying I want to escape poverty through you. I do not need that kind of shame.”
Imani looked at him for a long moment. Then she took one small step closer.
“Chidi,” she said, her voice calm now, “you really think too much.”
His brows drew together.
She smiled, not in mockery but in confidence. “I know you are cautious. I understand. Your life has been hard. I see that. People will talk, but that is okay. We will be fine, Chidi. But I am not going anywhere.”
He stared at her.
She lifted her chin, bold and certain. “One day you will stop running from me.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving Chidi Bello standing there with her words still hanging in the air.
And for the first time since she met him, Chidi did not move immediately. He only stood there watching her go.
He remained there for a few seconds after Imani walked away. Then he shook his head, tightened his hold on his bag, and continued down the road. But her words stayed with him long after that day.
One day you will stop running from me.
He told himself she was just stubborn. But the truth was that Imani Adeyemi had already started entering places in his heart he had kept closed for a long time.
That was what made the next few weeks harder.
Pa Josiah’s health, which had been unsteady for some time, suddenly became worse. At first it was small things—more coughing, more weakness, long moments of silence where the old man sat still and looked tired. Then one evening, Chidi came home and found his grandfather struggling to breathe.
Fear entered him at once.
“Grandpa!” he called, rushing to him. “What is it?”
Pa Josiah tried to wave it off, but his face had already changed. He looked pale and worn out.
That night, Chidi borrowed money for transport and took him to a small hospital. The doctor said more tests were needed. Then came drugs. Then admission. Then more bills.
Chidi felt as if the ground under his feet had opened.
Pa Josiah Bello was the only family he had left. His parents had died years earlier, and since then it had been only the two of them. The old man had raised him, fed him, prayed for him, and pushed him through every hard season. Chidi could still remember nights when there was almost no food, but Pa Josiah would smile and tell him to eat first because he had already eaten outside. Later, Chidi would find out that it was a lie.
So now, watching his grandfather lying weak on a hospital bed, Chidi felt something close to panic.
He tried everything. He called people who owed him favors. He took extra work where he could. He borrowed small amounts from two classmates. He even sold the small wristwatch his father had left behind.
Still, the bills kept rising.
Every day felt like another stone on his chest. He stopped sleeping well. He stopped paying attention in class. He began leaving campus faster than before. Even when Imani found him, he barely had the strength to speak.
One afternoon, she caught up with him outside a lecture hall.
“Chidi, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Do not do that.”
He kept walking.
“I said nothing.”
“Chidi, I know you. That wasn’t nothing.”
“Just leave it.”
“Talk to me, please.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look tired every day, Chidi. You barely talk to me now, and even your face has changed.”
He looked away. “I have things to deal with.”
“Then let me know what they are.”
“You can’t help me.”
The answer came too quickly, and it carried more sharpness than he meant.
Imani fell quiet. For a moment, Chidi regretted it, but he was too exhausted to soften it. He stepped around her and left.
It was Adeobi who finally told Imani the truth.
That evening, when Imani returned to the room she shared with her, Adeobi was seated on the bed reading.
“Imani, did you hear? Chidi’s grandfather is in the hospital.”
Imani stopped. “What?”
Adeobi looked up. “I heard two boys in the department talking about it. They said the old man is very sick.”
Imani dropped her bag at once. “Since when?”
“I do not know. Maybe some days now.”
Imani’s face tightened. “And he did not tell me.”
Adeobi closed her book slowly. “Maybe because he is proud.”
Imani did not even answer. She picked up her phone immediately.
The next day, she found out the hospital where Pa Josiah had been admitted. When Chidi saw her there, his whole body went still.
Imani stood near the entrance to the ward, holding her handbag close, her expression serious.
“Imani, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see your grandfather.”
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