Chapter 62: Breakfast
Chibuzor winced at her words, each one cutting deeper than the last. "Olaedo, it's not that simple—"
"It is that simple!" she interrupted, her voice rising slightly, though it wasn't out of anger but frustration.
"I'm not asking you for a perfect answer, but at least try to give me something real. You were there. You saw what happened. So why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you defend me?"
"What happened to the 'defend the fake marriage no matter what' goal?" Olaedo asked again, still in disbelief. Her voice had lost some of its earlier sharpness, but the disappointment lingered, making her words sting all the same. "You fell short, and you don't even know why?"
Chibuzor opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it again. He felt cornered, trapped by his own failure and her relentless, yet justified, questioning.
She sighed and leaned forward slightly, her tone softening as she pleaded gently, "Just tell me something, anything. Maybe what you were thinking of when it happened, okay? Please, Chibuzor. Help me understand."
He hesitated, guilt clawing at him. He had no clear answer, no justification that wouldn't sound like a weak excuse. The truth was, he wasn't even sure himself.
All he could remember was the overwhelming confusion and the inexplicable ache that had gripped him in that moment. But he couldn't tell her that, could he?
"I really don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we… can we end today's review, please?"
He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face as though trying to erase the tension between them. "We've had a long weekend, and we need to prepare for going back to work."
Without waiting for her reply, Chibuzor turned on his heel and walked away hurriedly, his retreat deliberate and uncharacteristic. Olaedo remained frozen in place, staring at his back as he disappeared around the corner.
For a moment, she simply stood there, stunned by his abrupt exit. Then, like a slow tide creeping onto the shore, traces of anger began to seep into her heart. She clenched her fists, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
'Fine,' she thought bitterly. 'If he won't communicate, then I'll let it be. Let him stew in whatever storm he's hiding. I won't waste my energy chasing answers from someone who doesn't want to share.'
That night, as part of their nightly routine, Olaedo silently came over to his room. She knocked gently on the door before stepping inside. Chibuzor, who was seated by the window, barely turned to acknowledge her presence.
"Goodnight," she said quietly, her tone devoid of warmth but not entirely cold. She stood there for a second, as though debating whether to say more, but then shook her head slightly.
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Left alone, the man in the room was wrapped in heavy silence.
Chibuzor let out a long sigh and leaned back against the chair. The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the furrowed brow and tightness in his jaw.
He felt the weight of her unspoken disappointment pressing down on him. Her polite yet detached "goodnight" lingered in the air, an unspoken accusation that stung more than any angry words could have.
'Why did I walk away like that?' he thought, his hands gripping the armrests tightly. The truth gnawed at him, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it, not to her, not even fully to himself.
From the window, he watched the moonlight paint soft silver streaks over the garden below. The world outside looked calm, peaceful, but his thoughts were anything but.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The silence grew louder, more suffocating. For the first time in years, he felt like he had truly lost control, not of a situation, but of himself.
In the stillness of the night, the distance between them felt vast, even though she was just across his room.
The next morning, Chibuzor descended the stairs and walked into the dining room, finding Olaedo already seated at the table.
She looked as composed as ever, her face calm and unreadable. The scene might have felt normal to anyone else, but Chibuzor could sense the shift. She was present physically, but it felt like her mind and heart were somewhere else.
The staff couldn't help but notice the shift in atmosphere. Chibuzor's sharp gaze flicked briefly to the servants moving about, their curious glances betraying their awareness of the tension in the room.
Without a word, he subtly raised his hand, signaling them to leave. Ezinne, ever perceptive, gave a curt nod and ushered the others out, their steps careful and hushed as they exited.
Only after the last servant disappeared did Chibuzor step forward, walking slowly toward the table where Olaedo sat.
He approached carefully, trying not to make things worse.
Her eyes rose to meet his, calm but distant. "Good morning," she greeted, her tone devoid of warmth.
"Morning," he replied cautiously, pulling out the chair across from her. He hesitated for a moment, then asked softly, "Are you still mad at me?"
Olaedo's fork paused midway to her mouth, her lips curling into a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Mad? No, not mad," she said, her voice light but carrying an edge that unsettled him.
Chibuzor frowned, leaning slightly forward. "Then what is it? You've been... cold. Distant. Look, if it's about yesterday, I—"
She cut him off, placing her fork down deliberately. "I'm not mad, Chibuzor. I just... I don't see the point in pushing you for answers you don't want to give."
The guilt he'd been ignoring since the review session yesterday came back in full force. "It's not that I don't want to give answers," he began, "it's just—"
"Just what?" she pressed, her voice soft but pointed. "You don't trust me enough to share what's on your mind? Or maybe you think I don't deserve to know why you froze when I needed you the most?"
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone