I don’t think I need to warn you guys of what is ahead. If you know these two, oppression is their last name. Just tighten your seatbelt. It is well with us ooo…
PS: We did not hit our target last time. But don’t worry, I love you guys beyond that. Just know that your engagements keep me going. Please do well to like, comment, and restack.
AkilaHyel’s POV
The bag slid from my shoulder, hitting the floorboards with a dull, heavy thud that felt loud in the sudden stillness of the parlor.
I didn’t even notice the sound. My hands froze at my sides, my boots rooted to the threshold as the air inside my own house suddenly became too thick to breathe.
Soteria.
She was sitting right there on the sofa, her laptop halfway open on her knees, looking like a vision that had materialized straight out of my dreams.
For a long, breathless second, neither of us moved. The only sound in the house was the faint, rhythmic sizzle of meat coming from the kitchen and the low hum of the AC.
Then, her laptop tilted. She didn’t close it; she just set it aside with a frantic, trembling hand, her movements entirely devoid of her usual deliberate, professional grace.
She stood up from the cushions. Her chest heaved in a sharp, ragged gasp, and the moment her feet touched the floor, I saw her lower lip begin to tremble.
“Akila,” she whispered.
The sound of my name on her tongue — raw, broken, and sincere, felt like a tether. I took three long, urgent strides across the parlor, closing the distance between us before she could even take a full step forward.
The moment I reached her, she didn’t wait. She lunged into my chest, her small hands instantly bunching into the fabric of my t-shirt, burying her face straight into the crook of my neck.
A sharp, violent sob tore out of her throat, her entire frame shaking against mine as the dam broke.
“My babyyyy,” she cried into my skin, her hot tears instantly soaking through the cotton of my shirt. “Baby, you just got up and left. You didn’t text me. You didn’t call. You just vanished into thin air after everything you said to me!”
“Ziniya,” I groaned, my large arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her so tightly against my frame that there wasn’t a single millimeter of space left between us.
I lifted her slightly off her feet, my chest heaving as the familiar scent of her hair filled my senses, grounding me completely.
“Ziniya, I’m sorry.” I pleaded. I tried lifting her face to look up, but she refused.
“Look at me, baby, I am right here.”
“I cannot!” she sobbed, her hands tightening on my shoulders, her fingers digging deep into the muscles as if she were terrified that I would turn back into a ghost if she let go.
“You should have called me, babe. Even if you were angry, even if you hated me for what I said... you shouldn’t have gone a whole week without speaking to me. We’ve never done this before. I felt like I was running nuts. Every single day, I stared at my phone, waiting for your name to pop up, but nothing. I missed you so much, baby. I missed you, it felt like my heart was physically wounded!”
Hearing her pain, knowing that my silence had inflicted that kind of damage on her spirit while I was busy fighting my own pride, made a sharp pang of guilt pierce through my chest.
I buried my face in her neck, my hands moving up to her back, holding her as she wept.
“I’m sorry, my love. I am so sorry,” I murmured against her skin, my voice thick and rough with my own unshed tears.
“I didn’t leave out of spite, mama. I needed to clear my head. I needed to go back to God completely. I wanted to call you every single night. The silence was killing me. I missed you more than life itself, but I needed that time alone with God.”
She pulled her face back slightly, her eyes red, puffy, and swimming with a fresh layer of hot tears.
The cap shifted, tilting backward on her head, exposing the beautiful, frantic line of her brow. She looked up at me, her chest heaving as she swallowed a knot of grief.
“I was so wrong, babe,” she choked out, her hands moving down to frame my jaw, her palms warm and trembling against my stubble.
“I wanted to drive back here after we had that fight, but I was so ashamed of the things I screamed at you. I called you a bad leader. I took the things you were wrestling with, and I used them to hurt you because my own feelings were hurt. And I was wrong about Julian, too. I should have shut him down immediately. I shouldn’t have entertained his advances without speaking to you. I disrespected you, too. I am so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”
Looking into her face, seeing her beautiful gap tooth catching the light as her mouth parted in a desperate appeal, I felt entirely undone.
“Shh,” I whispered, my heart swelling with a fierce, protective tenderness that completely surprised me.
I raised my large thumbs, gently wiping the hot trails of moisture from her beautiful skin, smoothing the lines of distress around her eyes.
“Don’t cry, baby. Please. It is breaking my heart. I’ve forgiven you since the day we had that fight. During this retreat, I had amazing encounters. The Lord broke me. He showed me where my foundation was leaking. You were right. I was too rigid, too uptight. I operated like a man who answered to nobody; my actions made you feel like an enemy instead of the woman I am supposed to cherish and cover.”
I leaned down, my lips gently pressing against her wet eyelids, kissing away the tears that were still spilling over her lashes.
I pecked her forehead, then her flushed cheeks, my mouth lingering against her skin until her ragged breathing began to slow, turning into small, soft gasps against my mouth.
“I love you, Soteria,” I breathed, my hands sliding up to cup her face, my thumbs tracing her jawline with a desperate, intense focus.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you more, Akila,” she whispered, her dark eyes looking straight into mine, her lips parting slightly as she tilted her head up, her hands sliding into the hair at the back of my neck.
“I love you and I missed you so much.”
The space between our lips dissolved until it was nothing but a fraction of an inch.
I could feel the heat of her breath, the soft, inviting pressure of her presence, and my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I missed this woman so much. I missed her and i did not know what to do with the feelings in my heart. It was intense. i began to close the final distance, my eyes shutting as I leaned down to claim her mouth,
“Eheeeeee!”
A sharp, loud, incredibly deliberate throat-clear echoed from the kitchen doorway, instantly freezing both of us in mid-air.
“Welcome back, Yaro,” Naya’s voice boomed through the parlor, dripping with pure, unadulterated amusement.
She was standing there with a dishtowel draped over her shoulder, a wooden stirring spoon held in her right hand like a microphone.
“You people have started their oppression again, oo! Barely two minutes inside the house and you are already trying to oppress me.”
Soteria’s face turned an immediate, deep shade of crimson.
She buried her hot face back into my chest, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping her lips as she hid from her sister’s gaze.
Thank God Naya came out. I wasn’t sure i would have been able to stop myself.
I let out a long, heavy sigh, my eyes opening as I looked over Soteria’s head at my sister.
“Naya,” I barked softly, a warm, relaxed rumble.
“How are you?”
“I am fine!” Naya cackled, walking fully into the room and setting the spoon down on the side table.
“I missed you, big bro.” She said as she side hugged me with Soteria still clinging on to me.
“Go back to your stew, Naya, biko,” Soteria whined from the safety of my t-shirt, her hand reaching up to remove the baseball hat on her head.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Naya laughed, raising her hands in surrender as she backed away toward the kitchen.
“Let me leave the lovebirds to finish their conversation.”
The door to the kitchen swung shut, and the parlor settled back into a quiet, grounded frequency.
I gently guided Soteria toward the sofa. I sat down first, and before I could even adjust my position, she slid right into my space, tucking her legs underneath her and resting her back against my chest, her head settling perfectly into the hollow of my shoulder.
My right arm came around her automatically, my fingers tangling in the soft fabric of her loungewear, anchoring her against me.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, my chin resting against the top of her head.
“I am now,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the faded seam of my trackpants.
She let out a long, peaceful sigh that seemed to empty her lungs of all the residual panic of the past week.
“We need to talk properly, Akila.”
“Yes,” I agreed, my hand moving in a slow, reassuring circle against her upper arm.
“My retreat was more of an eye opener. I sat under a word about unbroken strength, and it felt like a mirror was held to my face. I realized that when you challenged my leadership, my immediate instinct wasn’t to look inward; it was to protect my ego. I used my background as an excuse to remain unyielding, to act like a law unto myself.”
Soteria shifted slightly, turning her face up so she could look at my jaw.
“Pastor Olive told me something similar. She said you are a protector by nature, and that your instinct was fleshly, but it came from a place of wanting to protect me. But she also told me that I used my tongue like a sledgehammer on a granite foundation. Babe, when I said you weren’t a good leader, I knew it wasn’t true. You’ve been the pillar for your whole family since your father died. You carry so much weight, and instead of being a helper who provides a soft landing, I added to the pressure.”
I squeezed her arm, my chest swelling with a deep, reverent appreciation for the maturity in her voice.
“We both faltered, baby. My intervention with Julian... it was a breach of your professional boundary. By beating him up, I didn’t just disobey God; I signaled to you that I didn’t trust your capacity as a professional to secure your own workspace. I minimized you because of my own jealousy.”
“And I left the window open too long,” she countered softly, her fingers tightening around mine. “I kept those text messages from him because I was terrified of losing the contract. I thought I was being a modern corporate woman, but I was letting filth linger. I see it clearly now. If I want a man who bends to Christ, I must also learn how to yield to the same altar.”
SOTERIA’S POV
We sat there for a long time, the dialogue flowing between us with a fluid, unforced honesty that felt entirely different from our past conversations.
We were not trying to win. We were only having a genuine conversation.
I shifted slightly against the solid plane of Akila’s chest, the soft knit of my loungewear bunching comfortably under his arm.
My thumb was still tracing the faint, repetitive circle on the back of his hand when his chest heaved under me with a slow, deliberate breath.
“Baby,” he began, “I think we need to formally sit down and speak to Pastor Uzor about our relationship. Openly. We need our spiritual head to be officially aware.”
I paused, my fingers freezing mid-motion against his skin.
My heart did a sudden, erratic skip against my ribs, and my mind instantly went into a dizzying tailspin.
Pastor Uzor!!!.
For a man like Akila, a man who calculated every move with chess-like precision, suggesting we speak to our pastor about our relationship wasn’t just a casual step.
He’s thinking about proposing.
The realization hit me like a sudden flush of heat under my cheeks.
This man wants to propose.
I tilted my head back against his shoulder, looking up at the sharp line of his.
I tried to keep my voice light, but the sudden flutter in my stomach leaked through.
“Pastor Uzor? Baby... we are barely six months into this relationship. Don’t you think it’s a bit too early for us to meet the pastor? People will think we are rushing the layout.”
Akila let out a soft rumble of a laugh, his hand tightening around my waist, pulling me securely against his side.
“Nope. Nothing is too early, Ziniya. It’s not like we are kids playing games in the park. I turn 31 soon, and you are not a child either. We know exactly what we want from the onset?”
A fierce, radiant warmth bloomed inside my chest.
Hearing him speak with such absolute certainty about our future, without a single shred of hesitation or “we will see how it goes,” made me want to melt straight into his skin.
I kept my face neutral to tease him, but inside, I was a completely finished woman. I was so incredibly happy that his mind was already travelling that far down the road.
“Okay, Captain,” I murmured, a soft smile breaking across my face, showing my gap tooth.
“If you say so. But you know if we open that door, my mother will hear about it, and she will start asking for fabric choices for the wedding.”
Akila’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing against my cheek.
“Speaking of Mommy... what’s the update? Is she still planning to come back to Nigeria?”
I sighed.
“No, oo. Mommy doesn’t want to come back yet. She’s taking her time over there. After everything that happened with Dad and the extended family drama, she just feels safer keeping her distance for now. She needs to fully heal before she can face Nigeria again.”
“I understand,” Akila said softly.
“No pressure.”
I tucked my chin back down, but then a sudden thought hit me. I counted the days mentally, mapping out the weeks left in the month.
“Wait, baby... speaking of dates. Your birthday is in a few weeks. And it’s also...” I paused, my voice dropping an octave, “it’s also your dad’s remembrance anniversary, right?”
Instantly, the atmosphere changed. I felt the muscles in his chest tighten, turning back into that rigid territory. His eyes shifted away from me, focusing hard on the empty television screen across the parlor, his face turning into a closed, defensive book.
He cleared his throat, his hand shifting on my waist as if he wanted to sit up and evade the question entirely.
“Yeah. But it is just another day,” he muttered, his voice turning cold. “We don’t need to plan anything.”
“Babe,” I said. I would not let him retreat into his shell.
I shifted my weight, turning fully on the sofa until I was facing him squarely. I reached up with both hands, my palms framing his rough, stubbled jaw, forcing him to look back down into my eyes.
Before he could say another word, I leaned up and pressed a firm, lingering, sweet peck straight against his lips.
Akila’s dark eyes widened in absolute surprise, the sudden warmth catching him completely off guard.
A low, breathless sound escaped his throat, and his hands instantly came up to grip my wrists.
He let out a deep, defeated laugh, his shoulders finally dropping as his stone face cracked.
“Baby, please... don’t tempt me, I beg you.” he warned with a playful glint in his eyes.
I laughed, my shoulders shaking as I kept my hands on his face, my thumb smoothing the tight line between his eyebrows.
“Consider that a high-level bribe for you to open up to me. We’ve already agreed we are not perfect, AkilaHyel. Talk to me. How do you really feel about this birthday?”
He looked at me for a long, heavy moment, his dark eyes tracking the seriousness in mine until he finally let out a long, ragged sigh that came from the very bottom of his lungs.
“I have never celebrated my birthday since Baba died,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a raw, hollow space that made my heart ache for him.
“The two events are tied together. How can I be popping champagnes or eating cake when it’s a day after everything went cold for us? This year makes it exactly ten years since he passed. It’s the tenth anniversary, and Wandi and my mom have been planning a family reunion back in Adamawa to mark it. But... I haven’t even called them once to ask how things are going. I’ve just been avoiding the whole thing.”
“No, my love,” I said softly, my heart breaking for the little boy inside this massive soldier who was still carrying the guilt of survival.
I leaned closer, my forehead resting against his chin.
“You are completely wrong, baby. Your father loved you. And the fact that he passed away a day before your birthday doesn’t mean your own life shouldn’t be celebrated. You deserve to be happy, my love. You deserve to witness the joy of your own birth without feeling like you are disrespecting his memory. Your family needs you for this reunion, not as a rigid pillar who handles everything, but as a son and a brother who is present.”
“Call sister Wandi and find out what the plan is for the tenth anniversary. It’s in less than three weeks, papa. No more running away.”
He stared down at the screen in his hand, then up at me, seeing the absolute, unyielding love and determination in my eyes.
He heaved another deep sigh, but this time, it didn’t feel heavy, it felt like a release.
“Okay,” he murmured, his fingers wrapping around his phone.
“I will call her this evening. I promise.”
Akila suddenly looked up at me, a mischievous, incredibly handsome glint returning to his eyes as his arms wound back around my waist.
“But wait... speaking of milestones. Do you know that next week makes it exactly one year since our paths crossed?”
I burst into a rich laugh, my hands sliding back down to rest on his chest.
“Oh my god! Oh yes! Next week makes it a whole year since I embarrassed myself but got to meet the love of my life!” I shook my head, my mind flashing through the timeline of the past twelve months.
“Wow. What an absolute roller coaster ride it has been with you, Captain.”
“A very wild ride,” he agreed, his face softening into an expression of such deep, unfiltered adoration that it made my breath hitch. He pulled me up until I was completely wrapped in his embrace again, his face buried in my hair.
“How you were able to crush down my walls, grow better and stronger in less than a year, I still cannot fathom. But I am so incredibly grateful to God that I met you, Ziniya. I am so happy you are mine.”
“I am happier, baby” I whispered into his neck, squeezing him with everything I had. All my feelings, going into that hug.
Akila suddenly lifted his head, his face turning toward the kitchen door as his stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl. He burst out laughing and shouted, “Naya! Naya, please bring food for me and my baby!”
The kitchen door flew open instantly, and Naya stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at the two of us on the couch.
“Ehhh!!! No oo. You and your baby should please go and eat your love, joor! I really cannot wait to leave this country. I don’t know which is worse, Tinubu being a very annoying president and stressing me out, or both of you oppressing me. God go do am for me sha.
We both burst into shared, ringing laughter, the sound filling the corners of the bungalow until the last remnants of the past week’s winter were completely melted away.
Ndi Nkem (My people)
I have no words… These people just made me tired of this single life. But I am so happy they are back together.
See you guys tomorrow or not.
The laptop made itttt!!!! Glory to Jesusss.
All this love love no concern me🌚🫠
Is Akila always in boots?