AkilaHyel’s POV
The moment I stepped into the foyer, the air changed. It wasn’t the quiet, structured atmosphere I expected from a military home.
It was thick with something else something chaotic.
And then I saw them.
Soteria was backed against the edge of the sofa, and a man had his hands on her face, pulling her into a kiss that looked like an anchor being dropped in a storm.
My feet stopped moving. The file in my hand suddenly felt like a heavy, useless piece of lead.
I stood there for a heartbeat too long. I saw her eyes fly open, catching mine. In that split second, I didn’t see the girl who was “hungry for God” or the woman who was “joining foundation class.”
I saw the world I usually try to keep at arm’s length– messy, impulsive, and distracting.
I didn’t wait for them to untangle. I didn’t even look at the guy as he pulled back, looking startled and irritated.
My face went into a “command” mask, the kind I use when a recruit is failing a drill and I’ve run out of patience.
“Effiom asked me to drop this,” I said.
My voice sounded like it was coming from a deep, cold well.
I didn’t walk all the way to her.
I stepped to the console table and dropped the file.
The thwack of the paper hitting the wood was loud enough to cut through the heavy silence.
“Who’s this?” the guy asked, his voice high and defensive.
I didn’t look at him. I looked just past Soteria’s shoulder.
“It’s urgent. Tell your brother I’ve dropped it.”
I turned on my heel. I didn’t say goodbye.
I didn’t look back to see if she was flushing or if she was going back to him. I just needed to get to my car.
I needed the engine’s roar to drown out the sound of my own heart, which was currently trying to tell me I had no right to feel this disappointed.
Soteria’s POV
The kiss felt like a mistake the moment it started. It was Ayoola trying to prove he still owned a piece of me, and for a second, I had let him simply because I was too tired to fight the almost four years of habit between us.
The light from the hallway hit Akila’s frame, casting a long, dark shadow that seemed to stretch across the room and touch my feet.
When our eyes met, I felt a jolt of pure, unadulterated shame.
It wasn’t the shame of a daughter caught by a father; it was the shame of a person who had just been caught lying about who they were.
I watched him walk toward the table. He looked different.
The softness I thought I’d seen in the car yesterday was gone.
He looked like stone.
Like he was made of the same iron as his rank.
He dropped the file.
“Effiom asked me to drop this,” he said.
He didn’t even look at my face. He looked at me like I was a logistical error.
A distraction he was passing through on the way to something more important.
“Who’s this?”
Ayoola snapped, stepping forward like he was going to challenge him.
Akila didn’t even acknowledge he’d spoken. He didn’t even blink.
He just turned and walked out, his boots clicking with a terrifying, rhythmic precision on the floorboards.
The front door closed, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Who the hell was that?” Ayoola asked, turning back to me.
“Soteria? Isn’t that the guy from your dad’s office?”
I didn’t answer him. My heart was pounding, and my hands were shaking.
All I could think about was the way Akila had looked at the file instead of me.
Why do I care?
I screamed at myself internally.
He’s just Akila. I don’t owe him an explanation. He’s nothing to me.
But the urge to run after him, to grab his arm and tell him that I was breaking up with Ayoola, that the kiss meant nothing, that I really am going to foundation class.
It was so strong it made my chest ache.
I looked at Ayoola. I looked at the man I’d spent nearly four years with and for the first time, I didn’t see a boyfriend.
I saw a stranger who was standing in the way of the woman I was trying to become.
“Get out,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“What?”
“GET OUT, AYOOLA!”
I couldn’t sit still. I had paced the length of my room four times, the manila folder still sitting on my vanity like an accusation.
I didn’t care what Akila thought. I really didn’t. He was a snobbish soldier with a stick up his….. well, he was just serious. That was the problem.
But I kept seeing the way his jaw had tightened. He thought I was a hypocrite.
I grabbed my phone. I needed to know if he had said anything. If he was... okay.
I dialed Naya.
“Soso! My girl! You’re already missing me?” Naya’s voice was bright, a sharp contrast to the gloom in my chest.
“Always,” I forced a laugh.
“I was just... I was thinking about the foundation class. I wanted to ask if you remember what time the registration starts on Tuesday?”
“Tuesday? Sote, I told you this afternoon, it’s on Sunday. You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. My brain is just foggy. Long day.” I paused, biting my lip.
“Um... is your house quiet? I feel like I hear a lot of noise in the background.”
“Noise keh?”
“Uhhhh... I just thought... Is everyone home?”
There was a brief silence on Naya’s end.
“Who is everyone? It’s just I and Akila. Plus he just got back a few minutes ago, but he went straight to his room. Why are you asking weird questions, Soteria?”
“I’m not! I was just... I was wondering if your brother was around because I wanted to ask... if he dropped the file. My brother sent a file. Did he mention it?”
“He hasn’t mentioned anything,” Naya said, her tone shifting. She wasn’t a fool.
“He walked in looking like he just came from a funeral, slammed his door, and hasn’t come out for dinner. Soteria... why are you asking if Akila is home? And why do you sound like you’re whispering?”
“I’m not whispering!” I whispered.
“I just... I didn’t get to thank him properly for the errand.”
“Since when do you care about being polite to AkilaHyel?” Naya asked, sounding suspicious.
“And since when do you check his mood? You guys barely talk..”
“I’m just being a good Christian, Naya! God’s love, remember?”
“Hmm. You’re acting weird. If I didn’t know better, I’d say something happened.”
“Nothing happened!” I snapped, then sighed.
“I just... I hope he’s not in a bad mood because of the traffic. The road to my place was terrible today.”
“Traffic doesn’t make Akila upset,” Naya said quietly.
“He’s a soldier, Soso. He deals with chaos for a living. Whatever is bothering him, it’s internal. Anyway, I’ll tell him you said ‘thank you’ since you’re so concerned about your manners.”
“No! Don’t….. Don’t tell him I called. I’ll just... I’ll tell him myself. Or not. It doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, now I’m definitely worried about you,” Naya laughed.
“Go to sleep. You’re overthinking.”
I couldn’t stay in my house. Every time I looked at the sofa in the living room, I felt a wave of nausea. I needed my people. I needed the two women who had seen me through every mess since secondary school.
I didn’t even call ahead. I just drove straight to Amara’s place.
By the time we got Zainab on a video call– Zee’s face glowing from the London morning sun on the screen– I had finished the story.
I stood in the middle of Amara’s rug, gesturing wildly, while Amara was literally doubled over on her bed.
“And then... he just..... dropped the file and walked out?” Amara gasped, clutching her stomach.
“Babes, I am finished! The man keeps seeing you in embarrassing situations!”
“It’s not funny, Amara! Stop it!” I groaned, burying my face in a pillow.
Zee’s laughter through the phone was a high-pitched cackle.
“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me, the ‘God-fearing’ Captain, the one you has been hyping, walked in just as Ayoola was trying to eat your face? In your own father’s house?”
“He wasn’t trying to eat my face!” I shouted into the pillow.
“It was just a kiss! A very ill-timed, regrettable, ‘I’m-breaking-up-with-you’ kiss!”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what it looked like to a military man,” Zee teased, wiping a tear from her eye.
“I bet he went home and filed a report. ‘Subject: Soteria. Status: Compromised.’”
“You guys are evil,” I muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I’m trying to change my life. I’m joining foundation class. I want to be serious. And now this man thinks I’m a pretender.”
Amara finally sat up, catching her breath. “Okay, okay, babess. For real though? Let it go. It’s not that deep. You’re making it a big deal because you think he’s fine and you like him. If it was a random person, you wouldn’t care.”
“I don’t think he’s fine and I don’t like him,” I lied.
“Liar,” Zee and Amara said in unison.
“Look,” Zee said, her tone turning slightly more practical.
“Just move on like it never happened. When you see him, be polite, be cool. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing you’re embarrassed. If you over-explain, you look guilty.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I can’t. I need to fix it. I need him to know that’s not who I am.”
Amara leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Okay, if you really want to ‘fix’ it... You guys are going to church on Sunday, right? Don’t take your car. Tell Naya your car is acting up or something. Ride with them again.”
“Zee, isn’t that a bad idea?” I asked, looking at the screen.
“It’s a terrible idea,” Zainab said, shaking her head.
“It’s awkward, it’s forced, and you’re going to be sweating the whole time.”
“But,” Amara countered,
“it’s the only way to get him in a private space. When Naya drops off, you can corner him. Apologize quickly, quietly, and then move on.”
I felt a spark of adrenaline. It was risky. It was slightly pathetic. But it was a plan.
“I’m doing it,” I said, a determined look on my face.
“Soteria, no,” Zee groaned.
“Soteria, yes!” Amara cheered.
The ride back from Amara’s house was a blur of neon streetlights and a racing heart. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles were white, but for the first time in forty-eight hours, I didn’t feel like I was sinking. I felt like I was plotting something great.
Amara and Zee were right and they were also completely insane.
“Apologize in private,” I whispered to myself, the words bouncing off the windshield. It sounded so simple when Amara said it between fits of laughter.
But the reality of it? The reality of being trapped in that silent car with Akila and his judgment? That was terrifying.
I got home and went straight to my room, bypassing the living room entirely. I couldn’t look at the couch.
I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled my phone out, scrolling through my messages with Naya.
“Hey babe, my car is acting up,” I typed, my thumbs hovering over the screen. I cringed.
“Actually, the gear is just stiff and I don’t want to risk it on Sunday morning. Any space in the tank for me?”
I hit send before I could overthink it. About 20 minutes later, my phone buzzed.
Naya:
“LOL. The gear? Is that what we’re calling it now? Anyway, Akila said fine. But he says 7:30 AM SHARP. If you’re a minute late, he will drive off and leave you at the gate. He’s in ‘Captain Mode’ today.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. 7:30 AM. He was doing it on purpose. He was setting a time that felt like a drill just to see if I’d crack.
I stood up and walked to my full-length mirror, looking at myself.
What do you wear to apologize to a man who thinks you’re a fraud? If I dressed up too much, I looked like I was trying to seduce my way out of trouble.
If I looked too plain, it would seem like I didn’t care.
“Move on like it didn’t happen,” Zee’s voice echoed in my head.
But it did happen. I could still feel the way the air in the room had turned to ice when he cleared his throat.
I could still see the way he looked at the file instead of me. Like I was a stain on the furniture.
I spent the next hour pulling clothes out of my closet and throwing them back in.
I wanted to be the Soteria from the church service, the one who was hungry for something real.
Not the Soteria who was a bad girl.
I finally settled on a soft, cream-colored wrap dress. It was modest, elegant, and felt like a fresh start.
I lay down, but sleep wouldn’t come.
My mind kept looping back to the same question: Why did his opinion matter so much? I had known this man for less than a week. He wasn’t my boyfriend, he wasn’t my father, he wasn’t my pastor.
But as I stared at the ceiling, I realized it wasn’t just about Akila. It was that for the first time in my life, I had met someone whose silence felt louder than everyone else’s noise. He didn’t perform. He didn’t flatter. He just was himself.
And I realized that if I could convince a man like Akila Hyel that I was serious about God, then maybe, just maybe, I could finally believe it myself.
“7:30am,” I muttered, setting three different alarms on my phone. “Don’t be late, Soteria. Don’t give him a reason to drive away.”
AkilaHyel’s POV
The alarm went off at 05:00am.
By 07:10am, I was behind the wheel, the engine idling with a low, steady hum that matched the discipline of my morning.
We got to her house at 7:28am. I drove into the compound and the front door of her house opened immediately.
She stepped out, and for a second, my grip on the steering wheel tightened.
She was in cream dress, soft, flowy, and draped in a way that made her look remarkably fragile against the morning sun.
She looked good. Better than she had any right to look after the mess I’d seen her in few days ago.
I adjusted my rearview mirror and focused on the gate. I refused to let my mind linger on the way the color suited her skin or how the morning light caught the gold in her earrings.
“Good morning,” she said as she slid into the backseat. Her voice was small, lacking its usual airiness.
“Morning,” I replied, my tone flat, clipped.
Naya was beside me in frong, her eyes darting between me and the mirror with a look that was far too perceptive for my liking.
“You’re early, Soso! I almost lost my bet with Akila.”
“I didn’t want to be the reason we were late,” Soteria murmured.
The drive was the quietest thirty minutes I’ve experienced in a car with Naya.
Usually, my sister is a radio that never turns off, but today, she seemed to be holding her breath.
She knew something was off. The air in the car was thick, pressurized by the silence coming from the backseat.
Soteria tried a few times to start a conversation. Asking about the service or the foundation class but I kept my answers to one-syllable acknowledgments.
Yes. No. Perhaps.
I wasn’t trying to be cruel; I was trying to be safe.
Every time her voice drifted forward, I felt that strange, unwanted “leaning” sensation in my chest.
I had to remind myself of the living room. The couch. The guy. I needed that mental wall to stay high.
When we pulled into the church parking lot, Naya hopped out almost immediately. “I need to see the protocol team before the first hymn! See you guys inside!”
She vanished into the crowd, leaving a vacuum of silence in the car. I turned off the engine and reached for my Bible, ready to exit, but Soteria’s voice stopped me.
“AkilaHyel... can I talk to you for a minute? Please?”
I hesitated. I didn’t see the need for a debrief.
The mission was to get to church, and we were here. But I sighed and stepped out of the car, leaning against the door as she came around to meet me.
She was fidgeting.
Her fingers were twisting a stray thread on her dress, and she wouldn’t look me in the eye.
When she finally spoke, it was a mess of words, stuttered, hurried, and completely unnecessary.
“I just... about Friday. That guy, Ayoola... he’s my ex. Well, he was my boyfriend, but we broke up. I was breaking up with him right then. He forced himself on me, that kiss was….. it wasn’t what you think. I’ve blocked him. I’m done with that life, really. I didn’t want you to think...”
I watched her, my expression masked in the same neutrality I use during a disciplinary hearing.
Why was she doing this? Why was she standing in a parking lot, spilling her personal life to a man who was practically a stranger?
It felt like she was trying to hand me a map to a place I hadn’t asked to visit.
“Why are you explaining all this to me?” I cut in, my voice sounding harsher than I intended in the open air.
She froze.
“You owe me no explanation, Soteria,” I continued, folding my arms.
“What you do in your private time, or who you choose to be with, has nothing to do with me. We aren’t... I’m just Naya’s brother. You don’t need my approval.”
The effect was instantaneous. It was like I’d physically struck her.
The color drained from her face, and her eyes, which had been searching mine for a sign of understanding, went completely glassy. She looked like I’d poured ice water over her.
“I... you’re right,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m talking rubbish. I apologize for wasting your time.”
Before I could say another word, she turned and walked away.
She didn’t just walk; she moved with a frantic, rigid speed, disappearing into the sanctuary without looking back once.
I stood by the car for a long moment, the sun feeling suddenly too hot on my neck. Was I too harsh?
I’d stated a fact. She didn’t owe me anything. But the way she’d recoiled made me feel like I’d just stepped on something small and defenseless.
The feeling only got worse inside.
During the service, she sat three seats away from me.
Usually, even when she was “just exploring,” she had a certain presence. Today, she was a statue. She didn’t sing. She just took notes.
She didn’t even look in my direction. When the pastor asked the congregation to greet their neighbors, she turned the opposite way, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to disappear into her own skin.
She was cold. A deep, silent cold that radiated all the way to my row.
I tried to focus on the sermon, but my mind kept replaying the way her voice had cracked when she said “rubbish.”
I felt a pang, a sharp, uncomfortable twist in my gut that felt suspiciously like guilt.
I had wanted her to stop talking, to stop distracting me, but now that she was silent, the silence felt a hundred times louder than her words ever were.
I glanced at her one last time before the closing prayer.
She looked drained, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Task accomplished, Akila, I told myself.
But as the “Amen” rang out, I didn’t feel like I’d won a battle. I felt like I’d just caused a casualty I didn’t know how to treat.
Soteria’s POV
The walk from the parking lot to the sanctuary felt like the longest march of my life.
My heels clicked against the pavement, each sound echoing the word
Stupid, stupid, stupid in my head.
I felt small. No!!! I felt microscopic.
I had laid my heart open, stuttering through a confession I thought mattered, only to have it handed back to me like a piece of unwanted junk mail.
“You owe me no explanation.”
The words were a physical weight in my chest. He was right, of course.
That’s what stung the most. I was a girl he barely knew, and I had acted like he was my moral compass.
I slid into the row beside Naya, my movements stiff. I didn’t look at her, but I felt her eyes on me, questioning.
I just opened my bag, pulled out a notebook, and stared straight ahead until the air-conditioned air of the church cooled the burning heat in my cheeks.
Pastor Uzor took the stage. He wasn’t loud; he was solemn.
“We serve a God who is a Father,” he began, his voice resonant and steady.
“But we live in a world that is broken. Some of you are here today because you’ve lost things. You’ve lost people. You’ve lost your sense of direction. And you’re asking, ‘If He is a good Father, why is the night so dark?’”
I gripped my pen. I didn’t feel like I was losing a person; I felt like I was losing the version of myself I was trying to build.
“Matthew 10:29-31 tells us that not even a sparrow falls to the ground apart from the Father’s notice,” Pastor Uzor continued.
“We are in perilous times, church. The Bible warns us that evil will stir, that hearts will grow cold. But evil can never, ever overcome the Light. The Father’s job isn’t to make life a playground; it’s to prepare you for the call of the Master. Are you ready? Are you steadfast?”
I felt a nudge in my spirit, but I pushed it down. I wasn’t in the mood for comfort. I felt like a fraud sitting here in my cream dress while my heart was a mess of rejection and shame.
“God is so merciful,” the Pastor’s voice dropped to a whisper, “that He warns us. He reveals things before they happen. He speaks in dreams, in quiet whispers, in messages that stop us in our tracks. But often, we are too blind to see it. We are too busy building walls or chasing shadows to hear the Master calling us to safety before the storm hits.”
I didn’t feel like the sermon was for me. It felt like it was for people with real problems. People facing death or true persecution.
What was my little heartbreak compared to ‘perilous times’?
Yet, as I sat there, my hand started to move across the page. I wrote as I was led, my pen scratching out words that felt like they were being carved into me:
The shadows are lengthening, but the Father is not leaving. When the pillars of the earth shake and the voices you love go silent, hold the hem of His garment. A storm is coming that no man can stop, but the Anchor holds. Prepare your heart. The Master is calling you home before the wind begins to howl. Do not be afraid of the dark; just stay close to the Light.
I frowned at the words. Voices you love go silent?
It felt too heavy, too dark for a Sunday morning where the sun was blazing outside. I closed the notebook quickly and tucked it into my bag.
When the service ended, the “Amen” felt like a release. I stood up immediately, avoiding Naya’s attempt at eye contact. I needed to move. I needed to commit to something that wasn’t tied to the man sitting three seats away.
I found Pastor Olive near the altar. She looked at me and her smile was like a warm blanket.
“Soteria. You look really good this morning.”
“Thank you, ma,” I said, managing a smile. “The foundation class. I want to register now.”
“Okay let’s go,” she said, tucking her Bible under her arm and leading me toward the administrative wing.
The registration took thirty minutes. I filled out the forms, and received my manual. It was tangible.
It was real. As I walked back out toward the lobby, I saw Naya and Akila waiting by the main entrance.
Naya looked anxious. Akila was standing with his back to a pillar, his arms folded. When I approached, the air tension spiked again.
“Ready to go?” Naya asked, her voice hopeful.
“Actually,” I said, not looking at Akila at all. I kept my eyes on my friend.
“You guys should go ahead. I’ve already booked a Bolt. It’s a few minutes away.”
Naya’s face dropped. “Soteria, why? We’re right here. It’s no stress.”
“I have some things to do nearby,” I lied smoothly.
I could feel Akila’s gaze on me now. Heavy, silent, and for the second time, not quite so cold.
I glanced at him briefly, and I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes.
Guilt? Regret?
It didn’t matter. I didn’t want his guilt. I didn’t want his pity.
“I’ll call you later, Naya,” I said, giving her a quick hug.
I turned and walked toward the parking lot, the weight of the foundation manual in my hand feeling better than any ride in a luxury SUV.
I didn’t look back to see if they were watching me. I didn’t want to see if he was still standing there like a statue.
As I stepped into the afternoon sun, I remembered the Pastor’s words: Hold steadfast.
I wasn’t doing this for Akila. I wasn’t doing this to prove him wrong.
I was doing this because the Master was calling, and for the first time in my life, I was finally learning how to listen.
My phone buzzed. My ride was here. I got in, closed the door, and let out a long, slow breath. The shame was still there, lurking at the edges, but underneath it, something else was growing. A quiet, stubborn strength.
The Bolt ride back was quiet. The driver had the radio off, and I spent the time staring out the window, the foundation manual heavy on my lap. I felt a strange way.
I had stood my ground. I had chosen to walk away from Akila’s judgment and into my own path.
“We are here, ma,” the driver said, pulling up to the gates of my father’s house.
The security guards didn’t give me the usual cheerful salute.
They opened the gates with a slow, somber movement, their heads bowed, eyes avoiding mine. I felt a cold prickle at the back of my neck.
As the car pulled into the driveway, I noticed several cars parked haphazardly. Cars that shouldn’t be here on a Sunday afternoon.
The SUV was gone.
The front door was wide open, and the usual Sunday afternoon calm of the estate had been replaced by a vibrating, frantic energy.
I paid the driver and stepped out. The first thing I heard wasn’t a voice.
It was a sound that didn’t belong in our house. A jagged, breathless sob that tore through the quiet afternoon.
I walked up the steps, my legs feeling like they were made of lead. I pushed past the threshold, and the air inside was thick, smelling of spilled water and a sharp, medicinal scent.
The living room was a scene of total chaos. Someone was sitting on the floor, her head wrap discarded on the sofa, her hands trembling as she gripped the arm of my auntie who was whispering frantically into a phone.
My auntie looked at me, and the terror in her eyes stopped the breath in my lungs. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t.
I saw my brother, Effiom, near the stairs. He was sweating, his shirt unbuttoned, his phone pressed to his ear as he barked orders at someone. When he saw me, his expression shifted from panic to a crushing, heavy grief.
“Soteria,” he choked out, moving toward me.
“What is going on here?” I asked, my voice rising. “Effiom, what is happening?”
Babiesssss!!!
Soteria is now learning to be a hard girl…
But can she keep up with it?
Also, what do you think happened at her house?
See y’all tomorrow evening for a fresh episode❤️
Heii the prophecy, hmm it's looking bleak
My heart cannot bear it oh
Hmmm I hope her father didn't die. That's how I walked into my home, everywhere felt heavy and that's what I was told…