CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE “CONVINCED”

©Opeyemi Akintunde
Inspired by the Greatest Storyteller

Teju’s POV

If coincidence was a person… it would wear Beauty’s face.

I had barely parked my vehicle inside the retreat camp when I saw her.

Standing directly in front of my car.
As if Waiting….

For a split second, my heart jumped into my throat. It was so sudden, so unreal, that my mind went blank. The headlights washed over her figure, throwing long shadows behind her, making her look less like a person and more like an apparition that had stepped out of the darkness.

A scene from a horror movie.

I almost screamed.

“What again?”

But I swallowed the words before they could escape.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Why did the devil come to wait for me here?

The question rose from somewhere deep inside me… not just my mind, but my spirit.

Why here?

Why now?

And why her?

I closed my eyes briefly and whispered inwardly, almost accusingly:

Holy Spirit… why didn’t You direct me elsewhere?

Silence.

No answer.

Or perhaps the answer was standing right in front of my car.

I decided instantly that I would pretend not to see her.

Our eyes had met, yes… but eye contact was not a contract. Life was a choice. I had learned that painfully over the last two years.

The last time I saw this woman, my life had been cracked open like a fragile plate dropped on concrete… and nothing had fit back together since.

I wound up the windows completely and remained seated.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three.

Five.

She did not move.

Not an inch.

She just stood there… waiting.

My irritation rose steadily, mixing with something more… fear, anger, exhaustion… I could not even name it anymore.

Fine.

Let her stand there.

Eventually she would get tired.

But she didn’t.

And the truth was… I was the one getting tired.

I exhaled sharply and looked at her properly for the first time.

Something was different.

No heavy makeup.

No dramatic hair.

No revealing clothes designed to command attention.

She looked… stripped down.

Almost ordinary.

Almost… sober.

Well, I thought bitterly, you are at a retreat camp. You wouldn’t want to dress like Delilah or Jezebel here.

I unlocked the door, stepped out of the car, and deliberately avoided looking at her again. My plan was simple… walk straight to reception, pay for a chalet, disappear into solitude, and pretend this encounter never happened.

But before I had taken three steps, she ran toward me.

Fast.

Too fast.

“Teju!”

Her voice cracked, breathless, urgent.

“I am so sorry for the last time… I apologize for whatever it may have caused between you and Imade.”

I stopped slowly.

Turned.

The words echoed in my head.

Whatever it may have caused?

My mouth moved before my mind caught up.

“Whatever it may have caused?”

The disbelief in my voice surprised even me. The words came out sharp, raw, almost savage.

“Are you serious?”

She lowered her eyes but did not step back.

I felt something inside me snap open… two years of swallowed anger, humiliation, confusion, and helplessness surging forward all at once.

“Beauty,” I said, my voice trembling with restrained rage, “get thee behind me.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she did not argue.

“I am sorry,” she repeated softly.

The calmness in her tone infuriated me even more.

Sorry?

Sorry?

Did she even understand the scale of destruction she had left behind?

“If you are really sorry,” I said, my voice rising despite my effort to control it, “you will pick up your phone right now and call Imade.”

Her eyes flickered… fear? guilt? anticipation?

“And you will tell her the truth,” I continued, each word deliberate, heavy, like stones being placed one after another.

“You will tell her how you came to my room asking about her… and I told you she travelled briefly.”

I could see the memory replaying in her eyes.

“You will tell her how you suddenly began to cry… crocodile tears… about how you always have to beg men to love you.”

Her shoulders trembled slightly.

“You will tell her how you kept pushing yourself on me… and I kept resisting you.”

I took a step closer, unable to stop myself.

“You will tell her I respectfully asked you to leave our room… and you refused.”

My voice dropped lower… colder.

“You sat there like a demon and said you were going nowhere.”

The words hung between us like smoke.

“I am sorry,” she whispered again.

Her calmness was unsettling… not defensive, not dramatic, not seductive.

Just… quiet.

“I am ready to do any form of restitution.”

Restitution.

The word landed strangely.

Who uses that word outside church or courtrooms?

I stared at her, searching for signs of manipulation… a hidden agenda… a performance.

Nothing.

Her demeanor was too peaceful for the turmoil raging inside me.

How could she be standing here… composed… while I had spent two years suffocating inside a marriage that felt like punishment for a crime I didn’t commit?

“How?” I demanded suddenly. “How are you this calm? How are you in peace… when I have been living in trouble paradise?”

Her eyes filled with tears… but they did not fall immediately.

Because she was holding them back.

Like someone who had cried too much already.

“If you want to fix what you broke ,” I said bluntly. “Call Imade.”

She shook her head slowly.

“It is not that simple.”

Of course it wasn’t.

Nothing about this story had ever been simple.

I turned away, suddenly exhausted.

“I didn’t come here to reopen old wounds,” I muttered. “I came to breathe.”

“Teju,” she said softly.

I stopped.

“Imade is not just angry… she is lost.”

” Daniel is not who she thinks he is. I sent Daniel to her!”

Hold up! What did Beauty just say!

Maybe this meeting was not coincidence.

Maybe God had brought me here… not for closure… not for confrontation…

But for revelation.

To be continued…

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