'Don't forget our double date at five. Don't be late,' the message popped up on Esther's screen.
Dija.
She sighed, murmuring the name under her breath as she unlocked her phone to reply. Just then, the final school bell rang, its chime echoing across the playground. Children spilled out of classrooms with laughter and loud chatter, eager to be free, while teachers ushered them out with warm smiles and gentle reminders.
"Esther!"
She turned at the sound of the familiar voice and immediately broke into a smile as Betty bounded toward her.
"Sunflower," Esther called, slipping the phone into her back pocket and opening her arms. Betty ran into her embrace, her small hands gripping tightly. Esther gently held her close, brushing her fingers through the girl's soft curls.
"I've missed you so much," Betty mumbled against her chest.
"I've missed you too, sweetheart." Esther pulled back slightly, studying her face. "You've grown taller. What are you eating, miracle beans?"
Betty giggled and squeezed her hand. "Thanks to you. Dad stopped all the boring routines and strict diet plans. Now I eat what I like."
"That's good news. And Aunt Bell? How's she doing?"
"She's fine. She misses you, though." Betty held tighter to her hand as they began walking side by side. "You know, I've been telling Dad I want to spend weekends at your place."
Esther paused mid-step. She knew Daniel Lewis wouldn't casually let his daughter out of his sight, especially not to stay at someone else's house, even someone like her.
"Sunflower, I think you should drop that idea. I really doubt your dad will.."
"But he already agreed," Betty interrupted, eyes wide and bright. "He said I could stay as long as you say yes."
Esther blinked. He said that?
"Yes! So you just have to agree. I'll have my bags packed in minutes."
Esther sighed, her heart catching. She didn't want to say no to Betty, but she couldn't say yes either. Letting Betty stay with her would only create more proximity, more emotional tangles she was trying to avoid. Especially now that she was trying to move on.
Before she could respond, a car horn blared near the school driveway. A sleek black vehicle had just pulled in. The driver's door opened, and out stepped Daniel Lewis, still in his dark suit, his expression unreadable but focused.
"Dad?"
"Mr. Lewis?"
The surprise in their voices mirrored the confusion on their faces as they both turned toward the tall man stepping out of the sleek black car.
Betty blinked rapidly, her brows arched in disbelief. "What are you doing at my school?"
Daniel offered a casual smile as he strode closer, his presence drawing quiet glances from nearby teachers and a few curious students. He still wore his office suit, not a strand of hair out of place, but there was something unguarded in his eyes, something Esther hadn't seen in a while.
"Thought I'd surprise you," he said lightly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Came to pick you up myself today."
Betty stared up at him like he had just declared he'd taken up ballet. Her lips twitched with amusement. Her father, Daniel Lewis, didn't do school pickups. In fact, she couldn't remember a single time he had.
Something didn't add up.
"You don't do surprise pickups, unless…" She tilted her head, a slow smirk creeping across her face. "You're up to something."
Esther's arms folded across her chest before she even realized it. Her heart had picked up an unnecessary rhythm, and she didn't like how exposed she suddenly felt, like the air had shifted just by his arrival.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, careful to keep her voice steady.
Daniel's gaze found hers. It lingered, just a moment too long. Just long enough for her to remember all the things they hadn't said the day she walked away.
"Yes," he replied smoothly. "I just thought it was time I came to see where my daughter's favorite teacher spends her day."
There it was again, that double meaning. The words sounded innocent, but his tone hinted at more. And that subtle flicker in his eyes… she knew it too well. Daniel wasn't a man who spoke in riddles. He was calculated. Direct. And if he was here, dressed in his suit in the middle of the afternoon, claiming to make casual visits to his daughter's school, it wasn't coincidence. It was intentional.
Esther straightened, pulling her cardigan tighter around her. "Well, since you're here to pick up Betty, I think you should get going. You don't want to fall behind with work," she said, her voice polite but distant.
"Work can wait." Daniel's reply was smooth, almost too casual. "And since you're done for the day, we can give you a ride home."
Of course, he knew she wouldn't accept, but that didn't stop him from offering. It wasn't about the ride. It was about time. Space. A moment she hadn't agreed to but that he still insisted on having.
"Thanks," she replied, avoiding his gaze, "but someone is already coming to pick me up."
She didn't have to say who—he already knew. The shift in his jaw gave him away before he even opened his mouth.
"Your new boyfriend?" he asked, so quietly it was nearly a whisper.
Esther's throat tightened. The question wasn't sharp or mocking. It wasn't even possessive. It sounded… pained. And that made it worse. She looked at him, her mouth parting slightly, as if an explanation would somehow help, but she owed him none.
"Yeah," she said softly. It came out flatter than she expected. Uncertain. And she hated that it did.
From the corner of her eye, Betty shifted awkwardly.
"Sorry to interrupt," the girl chimed in with a knowing smile, "but I'm gonna wait in the car. Something tells me this conversation wasn't meant for my ears."
She turned to Esther with a playful wink. "Oh, and don't forget to tell Dad you said yes to me spending the weekend at your place."
And just like that, she was gone, leaving a heavier silence in her wake.
Esther exhaled and clapped her palms lightly against each other, a nervous habit she hadn't noticed she'd picked up. She didn't want to do this here, not in the open, not when her chest already felt too tight.
"So…" Daniel began, his voice a shade gentler, "how's your mother doing? I got an update from your elder sister, she mentioned they'd returned."
Esther swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "She's doing fine. Thanks for everything."
Daniel nodded slowly. "I've reached out to a renowned neurologist. One of the best in the country. He'll oversee her recovery going forward."
The words landed heavily, kind, but too much. She knew he meant well. He always did, when it came to her family. But she couldn't allow it anymore.
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary, sir," Esther said, carefully choosing her words. "You've already done more than enough. We can take it from here."
Daniel's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. "Miss Cole, this isn't charity. I'm not doing you a favor. It was part of our agreement, and I intend to see it through. I won't rest until your mother's recovery is complete."
It wasn't about obligation, not entirely. She could see that in his eyes. He was trying to stay in her life any way he could, clinging to the last thread that connected them. And even now, part of her wanted to let him.
But another part of her remembered Dija's message. The dinner. The man waiting in his car. The new chapter she was supposed to be starting.
She forced a smile, though her heart trembled beneath it. "I appreciate that, sir. Truly. But this… this is where I draw the line."
Daniel didn't argue. He simply stared at her, his jaw set, eyes unreadable, but she felt the shift in him. The silent war between what he wanted to say and what he knew he shouldn't. He gave a tight nod and stepped back, slipping his hands into his pockets like he needed to do something with them, anything to keep from reaching for her.
Esther turned away first, her heart a tangle of guilt and unspoken ache. But before she could retreat completely, the low hum of an approaching car drew both their attention.
A sleek, dark sedan pulled up just beside them, its windows slightly tinted, engine purring like a satisfied cat. The driver's door opened, and out stepped Bakarr, tall, clean-shaven, every inch the composed gentleman. He wore a soft linen shirt and dark jeans, casual but sharp. His gaze softened the moment it found Esther.
"There you are," he said warmly, walking over to her. Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his hand lightly resting on her waist.
Esther stiffened for half a second, then forced herself to relax, allowing the gesture. She could feel Daniel's presence behind her like a heat rising at her back, and she hated that she noticed it. That she cared.
Daniel said nothing. Not a word. But he didn't move either.
He just stood there, watching. And something inside him cracked.
The moment played out in slow motion, the way Esther smiled, even if faintly. The way her body tilted slightly toward Bakarr. The way the man rested his hand a second too long on her lower back, as if marking territory that was no longer Daniel's.
For eight months, he had shared his home with her. Woken up to her laughter echoing through his halls. Watched her tend to his daughter like she was born for it. And now she was standing just out of reach, offering pieces of herself to someone else.
Jealousy wasn't new to Daniel. He'd felt it before, in boardrooms, in battles over contracts, in the quiet envy of men who wanted what he had. But this was different. This jealousy didn't come with fire, it came with cold. A quiet, suffocating chill that settled into his bones as he watched the car door open and Esther slip into the passenger seat.
Bakarr gave him a courteous nod before climbing in beside her. Esther didn't look back.
The car pulled away, smooth and certain, disappearing into the busy street beyond the school gates.
Daniel stood there long after the engine's hum had faded, his hands still in his pockets, his throat dry. Something sharp twisted in his chest, a reminder that she was never his to begin with… and now she never would be.
The car was silent. Too silent.
Daniel gripped the steering wheel without starting the engine, his gaze fixed on the empty space where Bakarr's car had just been. The spot still felt warm, like the air hadn't yet recovered from Esther's departure.
He should've left the moment Betty got in.
Instead, he sat frozen, his thoughts spiraling through images he had no right to claim, Esther smiling, Esther laughing, Esther being kissed like she belonged to someone else.
The ache in his chest pulsed low and steady.
"You've lost her."
The words came so plainly, so unexpectedly, that Daniel turned his head sharply, eyes locking with his daughter's in the rearview mirror.
"What?"
Betty blinked innocently from the back seat. "Esther. I said you've lost her."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
She shrugged, fiddling with the hem of her uniform skirt. "The car," she replied, deliberately vague, though the small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. "She's gone now. In it."
Daniel didn't respond. He couldn't. Because part of him knew Betty wasn't just talking about a vehicle. And even though she was a child, she saw more than he wished she did.
"You like her, don't you?" she added softly.
Daniel exhaled through his nose, gripping the wheel tighter. "That's not the point."
"But it is," Betty said. "Because if you do… then why didn't you say anything? Before someone else did?"
Daniel didn't have an answer. The silence in the car thickened, wrapping around him like regret.
Betty leaned back into the seat, not pressing any further. She'd said what needed to be said.
And Daniel… he had nothing left to say. Only the sting of truth, sitting beside him like a ghost.
Meanwhile the drive to the café Dija had chosen was mercifully short. Esther sat in silence, her chest tight with unease. Every glance Bakarr stole in her direction made the silence between them heavier, almost suffocating.
"Hey, bestie!" Dija's voice rang out cheerfully from the open upper floor of the café. She waved down at them, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Esther offered a faint smile and followed Bakarr up the stairs. He reached for her hand, but she gently declined, replying with a polite nod instead. It wasn't that she wanted to hurt him, she just couldn't fake the closeness she no longer felt.
"Thank goodness you're finally here," Dija said as they joined the table. She scooted closer to Thomas and reached for another bite of the meat pie she was already halfway through. "We've been waiting forever."
Bakarr glanced at the plates already set out. "Looks like you guys didn't wait too long."
"We were starving," Dija shrugged. "But don't worry, you can always call in for more."
Bakarr turned to Esther expectantly, waiting for her to place an order. She avoided his eyes and said softly, "I'm good. This is fine."
He frowned slightly, but nodded. With a small smile, he moved one of the plates closer to her. "Alright then, shall we?"
Esther forced a smile in return and took a hesitant bite. The food barely registered in her mouth. Her mind wandered far away, back to the terrace, to Daniel's troubled eyes, and the guilt she'd carried ever since.
Thomas, ever the observer, broke the silence. "Sorry to ask, but I still don't know your name. We've met what, twice now?"
Bakarr chuckled nervously, setting his knife into the barely cooked steak. "Abubakarr. But everyone just calls me Bakarr."
"Nice to meet you properly, Bakarr," Thomas said smoothly. "And congratulations, by the way… on your relationship with Miss Cole."
Bakarr beamed. "Thanks, buddy."
Thomas leaned back in his chair, eyes calm but watchful. "So, are you also a student?"
"Yeah. Final year," Bakarr said with pride.
"That's great. What's your major?"
"Software Engineering. I'm really hoping to land a spot at LewisTech once I graduate," he said, his voice lifting with hope. "It's been my dream to work there. To build something meaningful."
Thomas smiled, lifting his spoon. "That's quite ambitious. Good for you. Let's just hope you finish strong, LewisTech only takes the best."
Bakarr nodded eagerly. "That's the plan. Maybe you could help me out too… I heard you work closely with Mr. Lewis?"
Thomas gave a small, knowing laugh. "I do. We'll see."
Dija rolled her eyes and dropped her fork. "Okay, enough with the nerd talk," she snapped. "This is supposed to be a date, not a job interview."
"What?" Thomas asked innocently. "I'm just trying to get to know the guy."
"Well, save it for a career fair," she retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "I wanted cheesecake and laughter, not LinkedIn in real life."
Bakarr laughed lightly, but Esther didn't. She barely touched her food, her silence growing louder as the date dragged on. For the rest of the meal, she spoke only when spoken to, her thoughts drifting again and again to Daniel, and to the quiet ache he left in her chest.
When the evening finally ended, Bakarr pulled into the driveway of the Cole residence.
"We're home," he said softly.
"Thank you," Esther replied, her fingers curling around the car door handle.
But she didn't get out.
She lingered. Then slowly, she turned to him.
"Bakarr," she began, her voice low and reluctant.
He looked at her, sensing the shift.
"I've thought about this a lot," she said. "And I know it might hurt, but I can't keep pretending." She swallowed hard. "You're a good man, and you deserve more than what I can give."
He stared at her, silent.
"I'm sorry, but we have to break up."
His brows knit together. "Did I… do something wrong? Just tell me, Esther. I can fix it."
"No… you didn't do anything wrong," Esther said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is all on me. I said yes too quickly, when I wasn't ready, when I didn't mean it the way I should have."
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes shimmering with guilt.
"I know I'm being a jerk right now, but I can't keep doing this to you. I don't want to keep hurting you when my heart… just isn't in it."
Bakarr stared at her in disbelief, his breath catching in his chest.
"Esther, I waited two years…" His voice cracked. "Two years just to hear you say yes. And now, now you want to take it back?"
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "But staying in this relationship will only hurt us both."
Her hands shook as she wiped her tears, the weight of her confession pressing down like a stone.
"I love someone else, Bakarr. I didn't want to. I tried, I tried so many times to forget him, to move on. But I can't. No matter how hard I try, my heart won't let go. It just… it has a mind of its own."
Bakarr let out a soft, bitter laugh. His eyes were bloodshot now, brimming, but still dry, like he was too proud to let the tears fall.
"It's him, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "The man from earlier."
Esther froze.
"I saw the way he touched you," Bakarr continued. "The way you leaned into him like it was natural. Like he belonged there. And you.." his voice broke again, "you looked at him like you were holding your breath the whole time. Like he was the only thing keeping you from drowning."
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
"I'm not blind, Esther," he whispered. "I saw it. I just kept telling myself I was wrong. That I was being insecure. That maybe… maybe if I loved you enough, you'd forget him."
She reached for his hand, but he pulled back.
"Don't," he said, barely audible.
"I'm so sorry," she cried. "I never meant to lead you on. I thought if I tried, maybe I'd feel something. Maybe my heart would catch up. But it never did."
He turned away, shaking his head slowly. "Don't do this. Don't say goodbye. Let's just… take a break or something. We can still be friends, right?"
"Friends?" he snapped suddenly, his voice loud in the quiet car.
He stood abruptly, pacing a small circle beside the car, struggling to breathe through the storm building inside him.
"No, Esther. We can't be friends."
His voice was full now, raw, jagged, like torn fabric.
"You're breaking my heart, and then asking me to smile through it? To sit across from you and pretend I don't still want you? That I won't lie awake at night thinking about what I did wrong?"
She covered her face with her hands, her sobs breaking loose.
"The worst part of all this?" he said, stepping closer, his voice shaking. "Even now, after everything you've said, my stupid heart still loves you. Still wants you. Even after you tore me apart."
"I don't know what else to say," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."
He looked at her one last time, really looked, like trying to memorize the version of her he'd never get to keep.
Then he opened the door for her without another word.
She stepped out, and the moment the door clicked shut behind her, the silence between them felt final.
He didn't drive away. He just sat there, head resting on the steering wheel, heart splintering in the silence she left behind.
And Esther? She walked inside with shaking legs, collapsed onto her bed, and cried like she never had before.
Because hurting someone who loved you… sometimes hurt even more than being hurt yourself.