Chapter 199
"Do you think we’ll ever truly be free of the past?" I ask, the words slipping out before I even realize they’re forming. I’m sitting across from Yemi, his warm, steady gaze never leaving me as I absently trace the edge of my coffee cup with my fingers. There’s something about the stillness in the air today, the quiet between us, that makes the question feel bigger than I intended.
Yemi doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest as he considers the question. I can see the wheels turning in his head, the careful thought he’s giving to my words. This isn’t something we’ve ever really discussed in depth—our pasts, the things that continue to haunt us, the shadows that linger even when we try to move forward. But today, in this moment, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that the past is catching up with us. And no matter how many times we tell ourselves we’re done with it, it’s still there.
"I don’t know," he finally says, his voice soft. "But maybe that’s the wrong question to ask. Maybe we’re not supposed to be free of it. Maybe we’re supposed to heal from it."
His words land on me like a weight, but it’s a weight I didn’t realize I needed. The idea of healing instead of forgetting, of not trying to outrun the past but learning how to live with it, feels strangely comforting.
I look at him, my heart swelling with affection and gratitude. "And how do we heal, Yemi?" The question is simple, but the answer seems impossible. How do we heal from the scars that run so deep, from the betrayals and the losses that have shaped us into who we are today?
Yemi leans forward, his eyes intense as they meet mine. "By facing it. By allowing ourselves to feel it, to own it, instead of letting it control us."
I let his words settle into me, the truth of them unfurling like a slow-burning flame. For so long, I’ve run from the pain, buried it under layers of strength and distractions, telling myself that if I could just ignore it long enough, it would go away. But it never has. It’s always been there, quietly waiting for me to acknowledge it.
The past isn’t something that can be erased, no matter how hard we try. It’s like a scar on our souls, one that fades with time but never fully disappears. And maybe that’s okay.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don’t know if I’m ready to face it all, Yemi," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. "Some of it is just too much."
He reaches across the table, his hand finding mine, and I can feel the warmth of his touch grounding me, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. "You don’t have to do it alone," he says gently. "You never have to do it alone."
The truth of his words hits me harder than I expect. For so long, I’ve carried my burdens by myself, afraid to let anyone in, afraid to show the cracks in the armor I’ve so carefully built. But now, with him, I don’t feel like I have to be perfect anymore. I don’t have to hide the parts of myself that are broken. He’s seen them, and he’s still here.
“I’m scared, Yemi,” I admit, the words trembling in my throat. “Scared of what’ll happen if I open up. What if… what if it’s too much for you? What if it breaks us?”
Yemi squeezes my hand, his voice low and steady. "We’re stronger than that. You and me. And whatever it is, we’ll face it together. I’ve always been here, Dee. You’re not going to push me away by showing me your scars."
His words are a balm to my soul, but they also bring up a thousand other questions. If we truly face the past, what will we find? Will it bring us closer, or will it pull us apart?
I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s happened, everything I’ve tried to forget. “There’s so much I haven’t told you, Yemi,” I whisper. “So much that I’m afraid of. And I don’t know if I’m ready to say it out loud. What if it changes everything?”
Yemi’s gaze softens, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles. “Nothing you say is going to change the way I feel about you. You’re the one I want, Dee. Always have been.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten, and for a moment, I don’t know if I can take it. The vulnerability, the honesty between us—it’s so much to carry. But then, there’s something else. Something deeper. I’ve always known, deep down, that we can handle whatever comes our way. Together.
“Maybe… maybe I’ll try,” I say, the words trembling on my lips. “Maybe I’ll try to face it. With you. But it’s not going to be easy, Yemi. There’s so much I’ve kept locked away. So much that hurts.”
“I know,” he replies softly. “But you don’t have to do it all at once. We’ll go at your pace.”
I nod, feeling the weight of his promise settle into me. It’s a lot to take in, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel so alone in it. I feel… held.
The silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a quiet understanding, the kind that only comes from years of knowing each other, of loving each other despite the flaws, the pain, and the mistakes.
“You know,” I say, breaking the silence with a small smile, “I never thought we’d get here.”
He chuckles softly, his thumb still stroking the back of my hand. “Me neither. But we did.”
A moment of peace settles between us, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like I can breathe. The past hasn’t gone away, but I’m not running from it anymore. I’m standing in it, with Yemi by my side, and that’s enough.
But then, the sound of the doorbell rings through the house, and a chill runs down my spine. Yemi and I exchange a glance, both of us feeling the shift in the air. I can sense it before he even says it.
“That’s probably the delivery guy,” he says, but there’s a hesitation in his voice that makes me sit up straighter.
“Should we get it?” I ask, suddenly aware of how heavy the air feels. The calm that settled between us just moments ago feels fragile, as though it’s been shattered by something unseen.
Yemi stands, his face unreadable as he heads toward the door. The knot in my stomach tightens as he reaches for the handle, and before he opens it, he looks back at me, a warning in his eyes.
“Stay here,” he says.
I don’t protest, my heart hammering in my chest. There’s something wrong, I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.
As the door opens, I hold my breath, waiting for whatever is about to unfold.