“People like you don’t end up with people like me,” she told him one night.
“People like me?” he asked.
“You know what I mean. You speak differently. You carry yourself differently. You belong somewhere else.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
She looked away. “Then you’ll learn why you should.”
He stepped closer. “Ada, I don’t care about any of that.”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
“You will.”
He reached for her hand gently, giving her time to pull away.
She did not.
“I’m not asking you to believe me,” he said. “I’m asking you to give me a chance to prove it.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper. “One chance.”
“One chance,” he promised.
For a while, Okafor kept his worlds separate.
By day, he was the heir, the decision maker, the son expected to marry Princess Diana.
By night, he was just a man sitting across from Ada, learning how to breathe.
But secrets do not stay hidden forever.
His family noticed the changes.
He skipped dinners. Rescheduled meetings. Turned down invitations.
His father summoned him one afternoon.
When Okafor entered the study, both his parents were waiting.
“We’ve been hearing things,” his father said.
Okafor stayed silent.
“You’ve been seen,” his mother added.
“At a small restaurant,” his father continued. “With a waitress.”
The word landed like an insult.
Okafor looked at him.
“Yes.”
His father turned sharply. “A waitress?”
“Yes.”
“You are embarrassing this family.”
“I am living my life.”
“You do not have that luxury.”
Okafor met his gaze. “For once, I do.”
His mother spoke more softly. “What is this, Okafor? A distraction? A phase?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“She matters to me.”
The silence that followed was unforgiving.
