Trashing the Irrelevant
880 Words
“Track her phone. Now!” Osita ordered, his voice firm.
Ray quickly opened an app in his phone. The phone screen threw a dull glow against his palm while he tried not to panic. The little red dot blinked once, then slid along the map like someone running.
Osita’s jaw tensed as if he was physically forcing himself to look calm. His eyes stayed glued to that single dot as though he could drag Thea back by staring hard enough.
“Where is she now?” he asked, his voice too steady for what was boiling inside him.
Ray swallowed. “Sir… she’s in San Antonio.”
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut through bone. Even the beeping monitor behind them suddenly felt too loud in the hospital room.
Osita moved first. He turned sharply, picked his jacket from the armchair and headed for the door. “Let’s go there.”
Natalia shifted on the bed, her voice coming too quickly. “Osi… wait. I’ll go with both of you.”
He stopped. The air between them stiffened. He turned slowly, studying her like she had just spoken a completely foreign language.
“Why?” he asked, almost cautious.
Natalia pressed her hands together, face soft and pleading. “All of this started because of me. I didn’t intend to cause trouble between you two. I want to explain myself to her. Let her hear the truth from me.”
Ray cleared his throat lightly, holding his phone carefully as if afraid any sudden movement would trigger another disaster. “Mr. Dike… I have booked the tickets already.”
Osita’s eyes remained on Natalia for a long moment. Something uncertain flickered through them; regret, guilt, fear, he covered them all with a simple nod. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Ray hurried ahead, opening the door. Natalia rose slowly, smoothing her blouse, wearing innocence like a fitted dress. But the moment their backs turned, that softness evaporated.
Her lips curled slightly, like someone tasting a dangerous secret.
“By the time I finish with you, Thea, you will regret ever knowing my man and snatching him from me.”
*********************
The courthouse corridor in San Antonio smelled like old documents and too much perfume from a wedding that had happened earlier.
Thea walked beside Henry, her expression steady, almost calm, but something underneath looked bruised.
Henry stopped at the top of the courthouse steps, letting the breeze hit his face. He released a breath as if he had been holding it since the moment she agreed back at her apartment.
“Thea… thank you,” he said, voice softer, almost raw. “I will thank you properly when I come back from Texas with Diana’s child.”
She half-smiled, adjusting the scarf around her shoulder. “It’s really nothing, Henry. You don’t need to thank me.”
But she paused, suddenly frowning like she remembered something vital.
“Oh—hold on!” she said quickly, and before Henry could ask anything, she turned and rushed off, her heels tapping the concrete.
Henry’s eyes followed her until she disappeared around a far corner. Only then did he lower himself to the last step, pulling his passport out. Two names printed together, his and hers.
The legally binding truth of a flash marriage, decorated with secrets Thea was yet to find out.
His fingers brushed over Thea’s photo gently, tracing around the edges like a man holding something too delicate.
No smile. No excitement. His face read nothing, but his stillness said too much.
“Mr. Golding!”
Henry flinched slightly, gripping the passport before turning towards the man approaching him in a hurry.
“Why didn’t you tell Ms. Waterhouse the truth?” the man asked breathlessly. “You –“
Henry raised one hand instantly, shutting him up like he was used to giving silent commands.
The man froze mid-sentence.
Henry didn’t say a word. He simply smiled, shoved both hands casually behind his back and looked faintly towards the direction Thea had just run off to, as if everything happening was exactly what he planned.
*********************
Ray leaned forward in the front passenger seat as the black SUV rolled slowly toward the mall entrance. The sun had set, but its heat still clung to the walls like stubborn memory.
“Sir… we are here,” he said gently.
Osita didn’t respond. His eyes stayed glued to the window, expression strangled with something almost painful.
Natalia watched him from the corner, lips stretched into something sympathetic but eyes calculating every flicker of his emotion.
“Osi,” she whispered, leaning slightly closer. “Why don’t you send her a text first?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Then he nodded once, like a man trying very hard to show he still had control.
Ray watched his boss unlock his phone. The moment Osita typed and tapped send, something flickered across his face. His fingers froze.
Color drained from his cheeks.
Ray’s brows gathered. “Sir?”
Osita stared at the error message blinking back at him. He blinked again as if his own phone was lying.
“What the f**k! She blocked me.” His voice landed heavy, trembling under each word. “She blocked me.”
- Writer
