SAVED BY GRACE- Ep 24

Episode 24- High Insecurity Zone

AkilaHyel’s POV

The green tactical folder sitting on the corner of my desk at the Defence Headquarters felt heavier than usual, even though it contained nothing more than the standard operational readiness logs for the battalion.

Outside, the midday sun was baking the Abuja asphalt, heat waves shimmering off the roofs of the parked military patrol vehicles in the courtyard below.

I adjusted the starched collar of my camouflage uniform, my fingers brushing against the cold fabric, but my mind was completely detached from the base logistics.

It had been a while since our date in the garden, since I had held Soteria on that Persian rug, listening to her tell me she wanted me as her husband under the gaze of the stars.

The certainty in her voice had left a permanent imprint on my chest.

For a man whose life had been dictated by the rigid, unyielding parameters of military orders and strategic deployments, having a home in someone’s heart felt like an unmerited victory.

“Captain!”

The sharp voice of Lieutenant Ibrahim snapped me out of my thoughts.

He was standing at attention by the door, a clipboard tucked under his left arm.

“The logistics report from the depot is ready for your signature, sir. The armored personnel carriers have been fully cleared for the routine maintenance rotation.”

“Leave it on the desk, Lieutenant,” I said, my voice automatically settling into that flat, authoritative tone I used within the brick walls of the barracks.

“Ensure the quartermaster checks the communication rigs on the lead vehicles. I don’t want any dead frequencies during the transit.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Ibrahim saluted sharply, his boots clicking against the concrete floor before he turned and marched out of the office.

Once the door clicked shut, the silence of the room rushed back in.

I picked up my personal phone from the desk, my eyes softening instinctively as I opened my chat thread with Soteria.

The last message from her was a picture of a newly designed pamphlet for her foundation’s next outreach, accompanied by a string of enthusiastic emojis that I didn’t entirely understand but deeply appreciated.

Perks of dating a Gen-Z. I’m not complaining at all.

I cleared my throat, the quiet of the office feeling suddenly restrictive.

I dialed her number, leaning back in my leather chair as the line rang.

“Baby,” her voice came through the speaker, warm, bright, and completely cutting through the sterile military atmosphere of my office.

“You’re done with your briefings?”

“Almost, my love,” I murmured, a genuine smile breaking across my face, breaking the hard lines of my jaw.

“The base is quiet for now. But my house feels too empty. Come over this afternoon. Let me look at your face before the evening duties kick in.”

A soft, breathless laugh traveled over the network.

“Are you ordering me, Captain Gaya?”

“It’s an executive request, Ziniya,” I replied, my voice dropping into a low, affectionate rumble.

“I’ll have one of the guys pull the car around to pick you up from the house if you’re ready.”

“Don’t worry, the help is heading out to pick up some groceries near your area anyway, so I’ll drive down after I drop her off at the store” she said softly.

“I’ll see you in thirty minutes, baby.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I hung up the phone, a strange, persistent tightness settling in my chest.

It wasn’t a feeling of dread.

A soldier doesn’t entertain dread but rather an acute awareness of how high the stakes had become.

Months ago, an operational assignment meant nothing more than packing my kit, checking my rifle, and moving to the grid coordinates with zero attachment to what I left behind.

Now, every time I looked at a map, I saw her face.

Every time I calculated risks, I calculated them with the intention of making sure I returned to her side.

I stood up, locking the tactical folder in my drawer, straightened my beret, and walked out toward my vehicle.

By afternoon, the soft hum of the air conditioner in my apartment was the only sound cutting through the quiet afternoon.

The living room was spacious, dominated by deep charcoal-gray sofas and minimalist decor.

A space designed for utility rather than luxury.

But with Soteria tucked into my side, the coldness of the apartment had completely vanished.

We were curled up on the large sectional sofa.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweater that belonged to me, the sleeves pooling over her small hands, and her legs were draped over my lap.

My hand was buried in her cute braided hair, my fingers gently tracing the curve of her skull while her head rested securely against the center of my chest.

“Your heart is beating very fast today, babe,” she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the embroidered name tag on the camouflage uniform I hadn’t yet changed out of.

“It always beats like this when you are this close, my love,” I murmured, my lips brushing against the top of her head.

The scent of her vanilla hair oil filled my senses, completely overriding the familiar smell of leather and gun oil that usually clung to my clothes.

“Sometimes I look at you here, on my couch, and I have to remind myself that I am not dreaming in a trench somewhere in the Northeast.”

Soteria shifted slightly, tilting her chin up so she could look into my eyes.

The afternoon light filtered through the blinds, catching the warm amber of her pupils and the unmistakable, beautiful gap between her front teeth.

“You’re not dreaming, baby. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

I looked down at her, my thumb moving down to trace the line of her jaw, feeling the soft, delicate texture of her skin against my rough skin.

“I’ve spent the greater part of my life learning how to protect things. I protected my family after our father passed. I protected my men on the field. But with you... it’s different. I look at you, and I don’t just see someone I need to guard. I see the reason why I want to stay alive. I genuinely love you, Soteria. It’s a clean, deep love that I didn’t think a man with my kind of history could ever cultivate.”

Her eyes turned shiny, a thick layer of emotion softening her gaze as she reached up to capture my hand, pressing a soft kiss against my palm.

“Baby... you have the most beautiful heart I’ve ever encountered. You think your military uniform makes you hard, but your soul is so gentle with me. I love you so much.”

Before I could reply, the sharp, intrusive ring of my official phone shattered the quiet of the room.

It was the high-priority tone, the one reserved exclusively for the command center at the brigade headquarters.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.

Soteria’s body tensed slightly against mine as I reached for the device on the coffee table.

I slipped back into my military posture, my voice turning tight and business-like the moment I pressed the receiver to my ear.

“Captain Gaya.”

“Captain, this is Colonel Bello from Command Intelligence,” the voice on the other end barked, clipped and urgent.

“An emergency briefing has just been called at the operations room. All sector commanders and tactical leads are required on deck immediately. Code Red protocol is active. Move to the barracks now.”

“Understood, sir. On my way,” I responded firmly, cutting the call.

I looked down at Soteria, who was already sitting up, her eyes wide with a quiet, knowing anxiety that she tried her best to conceal behind a supportive smile.

“Duty calls?” she asked softly.

“Yes, my queen,” I said, leaning down to press a firm, lingering kiss against her forehead.

“I have to move to the barracks immediately. It’s an emergency briefing.”

From the kitchen doorway, Naya walked out, holding a half-eaten green apple, her eyes rolling dramatically as she witnessed me adjusting my uniform belt while holding Soteria’s hand.

“Ah-ah! Look at them!” Naya shouted, waving her apple in the air with a loud laugh.

“Inside my own brother’s house, I am facing severe oppression! Every afternoon, it’s love, love, love. Captain, please go to your barracks and let us single people breathe in this parlor! Soso, don’t worry, I will keep you company while the military takes your man away.”

“Naya, keep your mouth shut,” I chuckled, grabbing my beret and my car keys from the counter.

I turned back to Soteria, catching her waist for one brief, intense second, pulling her into my chest.

“Stay here with Naya. Don’t go back to the house until I call you, okay?”

“Okay, baby. Be safe,” she whispered, her fingers squeezing my forearm.

I gave Naya a stern look.

“Look after her.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Naya laughed, saluting with her apple as I sprinted out the front door into the blazing afternoon heat.

---

The drive to the Idorenyin compound to pick up Effiom took me few minutes.

I pulled up to the main gate, my horn blaring once before the heavy iron gates swung open.

Effiom was already walking down the front steps, dressed in his full operational desert camouflage, his tactical vest slung over his shoulder and his combat boots laced tight.

His face was devoid of the relaxed, easy-going expression he usually wore around the house; he looked like a soldier ready for confrontation.

He opened the passenger door of my car, sliding in with a heavy grunt as he tossed his gear into the backseat.

“You got the call too?” Effiom asked, his eyes scanning my profile as I threw the vehicle into reverse and sped back onto the main road toward the brigade headquarters.

“Direct from Colonel Bello,” I replied, my hands gripping the steering wheel tight as I maneuvered through the Abuja traffic.

“Code Red protocol. Whatever is happening, it’s not a routine patrol rotation. The intelligence unit is fully mobilized.”

A grim, sharp grin broke across Effiom’s face, his shoulders settling back into the leather seat.

“Good. Honestly, Akila, I am glad to be leaving the house for a while. Ever since the burial and the will reading, the walls of that mansion have been closing in on me. The administrative paperwork for our father’s estate is driving me insane. Out on the field, things are simple. You see the target, you eliminate the threat, you secure the perimeter. No lawyers, no extended family members asking for allowances.”

“The field is simple, but the stakes are different now, Effiom,” I muttered, my mind briefly flashing back to the image of Soteria sitting on my couch in that oversized grey sweater.

“I know,” Effiom said softly, his voice losing its aggressive edge for a brief second as he looked out the window.

“But we are soldiers, Akila. This is what we were built for.”

Within twenty minutes, we entered the gates of the military cantonment.

The entire base was buzzing with an unusual level of frantic activity.

Armored personnel carriers were being lined up near the main hangar, their engines roaring as mechanics did final diagnostic checks.

Heavily armed soldiers from the tactical strike unit were sprinting across the tarmac, throwing crates of ammunition and communication gear into the back of utility trucks.

Effiom and I marched straight into the fortified operations room.

The air inside was freezing from the industrial air conditioners, thick with the smell of stale coffee and electronic heat.

A massive digital map of Nigeria was projected onto the central wall, with several red markers flashing aggressively along the borders of a North-Central state known for high-level banditry and insurgent incursions.

Colonel Bello, a stern man with graying hair and deep lines etched into his face, was standing at the head of the briefing table.

Several other high-ranking officers were already gathered, their faces grim under the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Gentlemen, look at the screen,” Colonel Bello barked, tapping a pointer against the central flashing red zone.

“Two hours ago, an intelligence report confirmed that a heavily armed coalition of bandit groups had breached the defensive perimeter in Sector 4. They’ve taken over three major transit routes and are currently advancing toward a critical infrastructure outpost. The local community is under direct siege, and the casualties are already mounting. The federal government has ordered an immediate tactical intervention.”

The Colonel looked directly at me and Effiom, his eyes cold and unyielding.

“Captain Gaya, Captain Idorenyin, your battalion is being deployed as the spearhead for this operation. This is a high-insecurity zone. The terrain is hostile, the enemy has anti-aircraft capabilities, and they are embedded in the local population. You have exactly six hours to mobilize your men, draw your ammunition, and move out by convoy. This is a search-and-destroy mission. You clear the sector, neutralize the leadership, and re-establish federal dominance.”

A sudden surge of pure, electric adrenaline flooded my veins.

The domestic world, the quiet dates, the soft conversations, everything vanished, tucked away into a secure compartment of my mind.

My posture grew completely rigid, my voice ringing out with absolute clarity alongside Effiom’s.

“Sir, yes, sir!” we shouted in unison.

“The transport helicopters will handle the insertion for the advanced team, while the heavy armor moves by road,” Bello concluded.

“Dismissed. May God be with you.”

Walking out of the operations room into the chaotic heat of the hangar, Effiom turned to me, his chest heaving with an intense, combat-ready energy.

He slapped his hand against his thigh, his eyes burning with the old fire of the frontline.

“This is it, Akila. High risk, high reward. The boys are going to be pumped for this one. Let’s go to the armory and check the weapon allocations.”

“Go ahead and coordinate with the master-at-arms,” I told him, my voice steady despite the weight settling over my shoulders.

“I need to drive back to the house to pack my tactical kit and inform the girls.”

Effiom paused, his eyes softening slightly as he looked at me.

“Be gentle with Soteria, bro. She just survived one major loss. Hearing about a high-insecurity deployment isn’t going to be easy for her.”

“I know,” I said quietly, turning on my heel toward the parking lot.

When I unlocked the door to my apartment an hour later, the sound of loud, ecstatic screaming reached my ears before I could even step into the foyer.

“OH MY GOD! SOSO! LOOK! IT’S APPRROOOVED!”

Naya’s voice was piercingly loud, followed by the sound of rapid thumping on the living room floorboards.

I walked into the lounge to find my sister and Soteria literally jumping up and down in a circle, holding Naya’s laptop between them like it was a sacred scroll.

Soteria’s face was lit up with a brilliant, radiant joy, her gap-toothed smile wider than I had ever seen it, her eyes crinkling with absolute happiness for my little sister.

“What is happening here?” I asked, setting my car keys on the counter, the heavy weight of my deployment orders contrasting sharply with the unadulterated celebration in front of me.

Naya snapped her head toward me, her eyes wide and watery with happy tears.

She dropped the laptop onto the sofa and lunged at me, throwing her arms around my neck so hard I had to take a step back to balance our weight.

“Yaro! The University College Dublin! The final admission letter just dropped into my inbox! Everything is confirmed! The visa clearance guidance is attached, the acceptance registration is open! I am officially going to Ireland, Akila! Your sister is going to Europe!”

A deep wave of genuine family pride washed through me, momentarily pushing back the dark clouds of the upcoming mission.

I wrapped my arms around Naya, lifting her off the ground slightly as a wide grin broke across my face.

“Glory to God, Naya. I am incredibly proud of you. You put in the work, and God has answered your prayers.”

“I can’t believe it’s actually happening,” Naya gasped, pulling back to wipe her cheeks, her face flushed with pure excitement.

Soteria walked over, her eyes full of a warm, beautiful affection as she placed a hand on Naya’s shoulder.

But as she looked at Naya, her expression slowly began to sober up, a soft, wistful sigh escaping her lips.

“Ah, Naya... I am so, so happy for you, my girl. But now that it’s real, reality is hitting me. I am going to miss you so much ehh. Who will be here to scream in the parlor and tell me how much my love life is oppressing them?”

Naya turned around, capturing Soteria’s hands in hers, her voice softening into a sweet, comforting tone.

“Sote, please don’t start crying now. Haba! The school doesn’t resume for another couple of months. The admission process just wrapped up, so we still have plenty of time together. Let’s make use of the time well before I fly out. We have so many outfits to design and so many foundation materials to plan!”

“You’re right,” Soteria smiled, blinking back her own emotional tears as she hugged Naya briefly.

“We will maximize every single day.”

While they spoke, my eyes remained locked on Soteria.

The contrast between her pure, hopeful joy and the heavy operational reality waiting in my car was almost unbearable.

I cleared my throat, my voice returning to that low, serious register that always signaled a shift in the room’s energy.

“Babe,” I murmured gently, stepping toward her.

“Come with me to the study for a minute. I need to show you something.”

Soteria looked up, her intuitive nature immediately picking up on the subtle, rigid shift in my posture and the gravity behind my gaze.

The playful joy in her face receded slightly, replaced by a quiet, focused attention.

“Okay, baby.”

She followed me down the short hallway into my small, minimalist study.

I closed the door behind us, cutting off the sound of Naya’s excited chatter from the living room.

I turned to face her, looking down into her beautiful eyes, my heart aching with a fierce, protective love that felt heavier than any armor I had ever worn.

I reached out, taking both of her hands in mine, my fingers gripping hers firmly as I prepared to deliver the news.

---

SOTERIA’S POV

The air inside Akila’s study always smelled faintly of him.

A distinct, comforting blend of crisp lavender detergent, old paper, and that sharp, metallic undertone of gun oil that seemed to cling to every officer’s belongings.

Normally, stepping into this small, organized room felt like entering a sanctuary within a sanctuary.

It was the room where he kept his books on military strategy, his neatly stacked files, and the small wooden cross his mother had given him when he was commissioned as an officer.

But the moment the heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind us, cutting off the distant, ecstatic sounds of Naya singing in the living room, the atmosphere inside the small space turned entirely static.

Akila didn’t let go of my hands.

His grip was firm, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around mine with a protective tightness that felt less like an embrace and more like an anchor.

He stood tall, his broad shoulders squared beneath the starched green camouflage of his uniform, but his eyes.

Those deep, intense eyes that usually held me with so much unyielding certainty, were dark with a heavy, unreadable gravity.

“Babe,” he began, his voice dropping into that low, quiet register he used when he was trying to ground me, the deep rumble vibrating straight through my palms.

“Look at me, my love.”

I forced my chin up, my heart doing a sudden, violent flutter against my ribs.

The joyful adrenaline from Naya’s Dublin admission was still humming in my veins, but looking at the rigid line of my man’s jaw, that joy began to evaporate, replaced by a cold, creeping sense of dread.

“The emergency briefing at the command center wasn’t a routine administrative meeting,” Akila said, his gaze locked onto mine, completely unblinking.

“An intelligence report came in from the North-Central sector. A major insurgent coalition has breached the defensive perimeter. They’ve occupied the primary transit lines and are actively moving toward the critical outposts. The high-command has ordered an immediate tactical intervention.”

He paused, his fingers tightening slightly around mine, as if he could physically hold my spirit in place before he delivered the blow.

“Effiom and I have been ordered to lead the spearhead battalion. It’s a high-insecurity zone. The terrain is hostile, and the situation is heavily compromised. We’ve been given a six-hour mobilization window. The convoy moves out tonight.”

The moment the words high-insecurity zone and convoy moves out tonight left his lips, something inside my chest physically shrank.

It was an instinctive, visceral reaction.

A sudden, violent contraction of my entire being, as if my soul were trying to pull itself away from the impact of his words.

The room around me felt like it was suddenly losing oxygen, the walls pressing inward until the air became too thin to draw into my lungs.

A high-insecurity deployment.

A battlefield.

The North-Central sector where the news channels constantly reported ambushes, improvised explosive devices, and casualties that were reduced to mere numbers on a scrolling red ticker at the bottom of the screen.

And he was going.

He and Effiom.

Both of them.

My tongue felt completely dry, glued to the roof of my mouth.

A wild, chaotic spiral of words wanted to burst from my throat.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to grab the starched lapels of his uniform and beg him to stay, to tell him that he had done enough, that my family had already given up enough blood to the soil of this country.

I wanted to tell him that my father’s grave was still fresh, the earth over his casket barely settled, and that I couldn’t survive another funeral.

But nothing came out.

Not a single sound.

The sheer volume of my terror completely paralyzed my vocal cords.

My face went totally blank, the warmth draining from my cheeks until my skin felt cold under the touch of his thumbs.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell.

I just stood there, staring at the small embroidered name tag on his chest.

“Soso?” Akila murmured, his brow furrowing with a deep, immediate worry as he leaned down closer to my face, his eyes searching mine frantically for the tears or the protest he had undoubtedly prepared himself for.

“Talk to me, baby. Say something.”

I swallowed hard, forcing my fingers to detach themselves from his grip, my movements stiff and robotic.

I took a small step backward, creating a sliver of space between us that felt like an ocean.

“Okay,” I said.

My voice didn’t sound like mine.

It was flat, hollow, completely devoid of any inflection.

It was just a cold, bare syllable floating in the quiet room.

Akila blinked, his entire posture freezing in total shock at my lack of reaction.

“Okay? Ziniya, look at me. This is a high-level deployment. I need you to talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I am going home,” I whispered, not looking at his eyes anymore.

I looked past his shoulder, at the window where the evening shadows were beginning to stretch across the compound.

“Naya needs to start preparing her documents anyway. And the house... the house is empty. I need to go home.”

“Baby, wait..” Akila reached out, his hand catching my elbow, his touch warm and desperate, but I gently pulled my arm away from his grasp.

I turned around, opening the study door and walking out into the hallway.

My legs felt like lead, but I forced them to move with a steady, mechanical pace.

When I stepped back into the lounge, Naya was still sitting on the couch, a radiant smile on her face as she looked up from her laptop.

“Soteria! Come and see this accommodation link…” Naya started, but her voice died in her throat the moment she saw my face.

I didn’t stop.

I walked straight toward the console table near the front door, my fingers picking up my car keys with a sharp, metallic jingle.

“Naya, congratulations again,” I said, my voice maintaining that terrifying, level calm.

“I have to get back to the compound now. There are things I need to clear up.”

“Soteria... what’s wrong?” Naya stood up from the sofa, the laptop nearly sliding from her lap as her eyes darted from me to Akila, who had just emerged from the hallway, his face tight with a profound, mounting anxiety.

“Akila, what did you say to her?”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, opening the front door before either of them could step closer to block my exit.

“I’ll talk to you guys later.”

I stepped out onto the porch, the heat of the Abuja evening hitting my face, but I felt entirely numb.

I marched down the stone steps to where my car was parked in the driveway, my fingers trembling violently as I pushed the key into the ignition.

Through the rearview mirror, I could see Akila and Naya standing on the porch, their figures framed by the doorway, watching me with expressions of utter shock and deep worry.

I didn’t wait for him to walk down the driveway.

I threw the car into reverse, backed out of the compound with a sharp screech of tires against the gravel, shifted into drive, and zoomed off into the main road without looking back.

The moment my car cleared the estate gates and hit the secondary road leading toward Maitama, the fragile, unnatural calm that had sustained me inside the house shattered into a million jagged pieces.

My hands on the steering wheel were shaking so violently that the vehicle swerved slightly before I forcefully corrected the alignment.

A cold, suffocating sweat broke out across my forehead, dripping down my temples as a violent, uncontrollable tremor took over my entire body.

I could feel my teeth chattering against each other, a rhythmic, terrifying sound inside the enclosed space of the car.

What if he dies?

The question hit my brain like a physical blow, repeating itself over and over in a cruel, endless loop.

What if he gets killed? What if this is the last time you see him in that uniform? What if the next time you see Akila, he is in a wooden box covered by the Nigerian flag, just like your father?

“No, no, no...” I gasped out loud, my voice breaking into a ragged, desperate sob as the tears finally erupted, blinding my vision so badly I had to pull over to the side of the road under a large terminalia tree.

I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, burying my face in the leather as my chest heaved with a violent, terrifying panic attack.

The image of the red dirt at my father’s burial site flashed behind my eyelids.

The heavy, suffocating scent of the funeral wreaths, the solemn, agonizing sound of the military trumpet playing the Last Post, the sight of my brothers standing in their uniforms with hollow, dead eyes.

I couldn’t take another death. I literally could not survive it.

If Akila, the man who had rebuilt my shattered world with his bare hands, the man who had promised to be my shield under the stars.

If he were to be taken by that same ground, my mind would split completely down the middle.

My faith, my strength, my sanity... everything would crack.

On the passenger seat, my phone began to vibrate violently against the leather, Akila’s name flashing across the screen.

Baby🔐 ...

I stared at the phone, my entire body convulsing with a fresh wave of terror.

I couldn’t pick it up.

If I heard his deep, calm voice right now, I would completely lose control.

I would beg him to desert his post, I would scream at him for being a soldier, I would say things that would break his heart right before he went into battle.

And a Captain’s mind needed to be sharp on the field.

He couldn’t be thinking about a hysterical woman while trying to dodge bullets.

The phone stopped ringing, then instantly started vibrating again.

I reached out with a trembling hand, switched it to silent, and threw it face down onto the floor mat.

I shifted the car back into drive, wiping the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, and drove the rest of the way home like a fugitive escaping a crime scene.

When I pulled into the compound, I didn’t say a word to the security guards who opened the gate.

I rushed through the front doors of the mansion, ignoring the house-helps who called out my name, and ran straight up the grand staircase to my bedroom.

I slammed the heavy door shut, turned the key in the lock twice, and slid down the wood paneling until I was sitting on the floor, my knees pulled tightly against my chest.

The vast, luxurious bedroom felt entirely cold, like a tomb.

I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking in the dark as the evening sun slowly died outside my window.

---

A little over an hour had passed when my phone, still silent but lighting up continuously against the carpet where I had tossed it, began to flash with Amara’s name.

I wiped my face, my throat raw and burning from the quiet weeping, and picked it up.

My fingers were still stiff as I swiped to answer.

“Amara,” I whispered, my voice sounding completely ruined.

“Soso! Oh my God, thank God you picked up!” Amara’s voice boomed through the line, laced with an intense, immediate panic.

“Naya just called me practically screaming! She said Akila told her about the deployment and you just went completely blank, packed your things, and zoomed off like a madwoman!”

“She said Akila has been trying your line for over an hour and you’re not picking up. He’s frantic, Soso! He’s at the barracks right now trying to organize his men but his mind is completely scattered because of you. What is going on?”

The mention of his name, of his scattered mind, made something inside me snap.

I let out a loud, broken sob, burying my face back into my knees as the dam broke completely.

“Amara... I’m so scared,” I choked out, the words pouring out of my mouth in a frantic, unstructured rush.

“I’m so scared he’s going to die. You don’t understand... it’s a high-insecurity zone. Effiom is going too. Both of them, Amara! What if they get ambushed? What if he gets killed out there? I just lost my dad, Amara! I cannot sit through another military burial. I cannot look at another coffin. If anything happens to Akila or Effiom, I will die. I swear to God, I will die.”

On the other end of the line, Amara went completely silent for a few seconds, the sheer weight of my breakdown settling over her.

When she spoke again, her tone had shifted from panic to a deep, grounded maternal tenderness.

“Oh, Soso... my sweet girl,” Amara whispered softly.

“Take a deep breath for me. Please, just breathe. In and out.”

I tried to draw air into my lungs, my chest shuddering violently.

“I can’t... I’m shaking so much.”

“Listen to me, Soteria,” Amara said, her voice firm and unyielding.

“It is completely valid for you to be terrified. Look at what you’ve been through these past months. Your heart is still raw from losing your dad. But you cannot handle this by running away and locking yourself in a room. You are leaving Akila in the dark right before he goes into a dangerous situation. You need to calm down and talk to him, Soso. Call him back right now.”

“No!” I cried out, a fresh wave of panic gripping my throat.

“No, Amara, I can’t call him.”

“Why? Why can’t you call your man?”

“Because I’m scared he’ll get upset with me!” I sobbed, the raw truth finally breaking through my defenses.

“He is a Captain. He has so much responsibility on his shoulders tonight. If he hears me crying like this, if he sees how weak and broken I am, he will get frustrated. He might think I am a burden, or that my lack of strength is going to distract him from his mission. I don’t want him to be angry with me or even destabilized right before he leaves, Amara... I don’t want his last memory of me to be an annoying, hysterical girl who couldn’t handle his duty.”

“Soteria, listen to yourself!” Amara countered sharply, her voice cracking through my spiral like a whip.

“Are you talking about Akila? The same Akila who held you through the storms? The man who custom-made an emerald necklace and promised to be your shield? He loves you, Soso. He genuinely, deeply loves you. He isn’t going to get upset because his woman is scared for his life. He is frantic because he thinks you are hurting and he can’t reach you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, a heavy tear rolling down my cheek into the fabric of my dress.

“Amara... I just want him to stay. Is it bad that I want my baby to stay?”

“It’s not bad, baby girl. It means you love him,” Amara said softly.

“But he has to go. It’s his duty. And the best thing you can do for him right now is to let him see your face, hear your voice, and take your prayers with him to that battlefield. Don’t let him leave Abuja thinking you’ve shut him out.”

The silence stretched between us for a long time, the quiet rhythm of my breathing slowly stabilizing as Amara’s words began to settle into the chaotic corners of my mind.

“Okay,” I whispered finally, my hand moving up to touch the cold white gold frame of the emerald pendant resting against my collarbone.

“I hear you.”

“Call him, Soso,” Amara said gently. “Before the convoy moves out.”

“I will,” I murmured, cutting the call and staring down at the glowing screen, my heart beating with a different kind of intensity as I searched for his name in my recent logs.

My Soteria🥹🥹

Awwwwww…. Thank God for friends like Amara.

BTW, our girl is going to school in Ireland 💃💃

Ps: Let’s get this episode to 200 likes, 70 comments and 60 restacks🤭🤭