Chapter 19: The Choice
1504 Words
Ada woke up to sunlight and silence.
No monitor beeping fast. No nurses whispering. No Daniel pacing. Just morning light through floor-to-ceiling glass and Baby B’s monitor at 122 bpm. Steady. Safe.
Daniel was still on the floor beside her bed. Asleep. Jacket as pillow. Hair messy. Face softer without the CEO mask.
For 10 minutes Ada just watched him. The man who locked her up. The man who slept on the floor because she cried. The man who might not be her babies’ father but was the only one keeping Baby B alive.
Choice time.
She could wake him. Say: `I know David is the father. Compass tattoo. You lied. Let me go.`
Or she could stay silent. Pretend she didn’t hear David through the vent. Let Daniel keep protecting her. Keep Baby B stable. Keep her mother’s hospital bills paid.
Both choices felt like betrayal.
She chose silence. For now. For Baby B.
Ada closed her eyes, pretended to sleep. Listened to Daniel’s breathing. Steady. Anchoring. Like last night.
At 7:03am, Daniel stirred. Sat up. Saw her eyes closed. Exhaled like he’d been holding his breath all night.
He stood slowly, joints cracking. 40 floors and marble floors weren’t kind to billionaires either. He adjusted his shirt. CEO mask back on. But his eyes were still soft when they landed on her.
“You’re awake,” he said quietly. Not a question.
Ada opened her eyes. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Daniel repeated. Then he did something weird. He poured her water himself. No nurse. Handed her the glass. “Drink. Doctor said 3 liters daily for Baby B.”
Ada took it. Their fingers touched. She didn’t pull away. Daniel didn’t either. 2 seconds too long.
“Nurses will be here at 8am,” Daniel said, stepping back. “I have board meeting at 9. But I’ll be back by lunch. Unless…” He paused. “Unless you want me to cancel. If Baby B—”
“I’m fine,” Ada cut him off. Too fast. Guilty. “Vitals are stable. You can go.”
Daniel studied her face like he was searching for lies. Found none. Because she wasn’t lying about vitals. She was lying about everything else.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go. Musa stays at the door. Press the button if you need anything. Anything, Ada.”
He left. Door closed softly. No lock beep. Progress.
*10:00am - Penthouse*
Nurse Titi checked her vitals. “Baby B looking great today, Miss. 3.4cm fluid. Up 0.2cm. Whatever you did last night, keep doing it.”
Ada smiled. Fake smile. “Singing helps.”
“Then sing more,” Nurse Titi said, adjusting the monitor. “Mr. Daniel asked me to play Yoruba lullabies on loop if you get stressed. He… he downloaded them last night at 3am.”
Ada’s chest tightened. Daniel. 3am. Downloading lullabies. For her. For Baby B. Not for control. For comfort.
The thought hurt more than his control did.
At 12:30pm, Daniel came back. Early. Brought lunch himself. No PA. No chef. Just him with a tray.
“Jollof rice,” he said, setting it on her table. “From that small place in Surulere you told Nurse Amaka you missed. Before she was… transferred.”
Ada stared at the plate. Steam. Scent of pepper and nostalgia. Home.
“How did you—”
“I asked her,” Daniel said simply. “Before transfer. I asked what you missed from home. She said jollof from Iya Basira’s. I bought the restaurant this morning.”
Ada dropped her spoon. “You bought a restaurant for one plate of jollof?”
“I bought it so you never have to ask again,” Daniel said. Like it was nothing. Like buying restaurants was normal. “Eat. For Baby B.”
Ada ate. Slowly. Each bite tasted like guilt. Like Daniel was earning her love with money and rice while David was earning it with truth and pain.
Halfway through, her phone buzzed. New phone Daniel gave her. “Emergency only,” he’d said. Screen showed: Unknown Number.
Text: `091827. Floor 39. 2am. If you want the truth, come down. - D`
David. Using their father’s code. Begging.
Ada’s hands shook. Rice spilled on white sheets. Baby B’s monitor ticked up. 125…130…135.
Daniel saw it immediately. Took the phone from her hand. Read the text. Face went blank. Not angry. Empty. That was worse.
“Floor 39,” he said quietly. “2am. He wants you to meet him.”
Ada didn’t deny it. Lying would spike her heart rate more. Baby B couldn’t handle that.
Daniel set the phone down. Pushed the plate away. “Finish your food first. Then we talk.”
“I can’t eat,” Ada whispered. “Not when he’s downstairs begging and you’re upstairs controlling.”
“Then don’t eat,” Daniel said. Voice flat. “But Baby B doesn’t get a choice. She needs calories. She needs calm. So you choose, Ada. Him and stress and 160 bpm. Or me and jollof and 122 bpm.”
He stood. Walked to the window. Back to her. Classic Daniel. Distance when hurt.
“You think I don’t know what you’re choosing?” he said without turning. “Every time you look at your phone. Every time your vitals spike when Musa says ‘Mr. David is at lobby’. Every time you sing that lullaby and cry after. You’re choosing him in your head, Ada. I see it.”
Ada pressed both hands to her stomach. “I’m choosing Baby B! Both of them! That’s all I’m choosing!”
“Are you?” Daniel turned. Eyes red. Not from crying. From no sleep. From war. “Because choosing Baby B means staying here. Means no 2am meetings on Floor 39. Means no ‘compass tattoo’ secrets. Means trusting me even when you hate me.”
Ada stood. Slow. 20 weeks pregnant. Twins heavy. She walked to him at the window. Stopped 1 foot away.
“I don’t hate you, Daniel,” she whispered. Truth. “I’m scared of you. Scared of how much power you have over me. Scared that if I choose David, Baby B dies. Scared that if I choose you, I lose myself.”
Daniel looked down at her. Really looked. For once not like CEO to secretary. Like man to woman.
“You won’t lose yourself,” he said quietly. “Not with me. I lost myself at 6 when my mother died. I built Daniel Okafor from nothing because of that loss. I won’t let you lose yourself because of me. I’m not that man, Ada.”
“Liar,” Ada said, but no heat in it. “You moved me to a penthouse prison.”
“I moved you to where Baby B lives,” Daniel corrected. “Prison would have bars. This has glass. You can see Lagos. You can breathe. You just can’t run. Not yet. Not until Baby B is strong.”
Silence. Lagos stretched below them. Millions of people. Millions of choices. Ada had 2. Both wrong.
Her phone buzzed again. Another text from David: `Please Ada. 2am. I’ll bring DNA retest papers. London lab. We can know for sure. Before it’s too late.`
Before it’s too late. For Baby B? For her? For Daniel?
Baby B kicked hard. Then went still. Monitor: 140 bpm.
Ada made a choice. Not between Daniel and David. Between truth and survival.
She deleted the text. Blocked the number. Handed the phone back to Daniel.
“I’m not going to Floor 39 at 2am,” she said. Voice shaking but firm. “Not because you ordered me. Because Baby B can’t handle it. Because my mother can’t handle hospital debt if I’m moved to ICU. Because… because I need you to keep them safe more than I need to know whose blood is in them.”
Daniel took the phone. Didn’t smile. Didn’t celebrate. Just nodded once.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. For choosing calm. For choosing them.
Then he did something she didn’t expect. He pulled her into his chest. One arm around her shoulders. Not possessive. Protective.
“Rest now,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ll handle David. I’ll handle the lab. I’ll handle everything. You just keep Baby B alive. That’s your job. Let me do mine.”
Ada didn’t push him away. She was too tired. Too pregnant. Too scared.
She rested her head on his chest. Heard his heart. Fast. Not calm like he pretended. He was scared too.
Downstairs, David stared at his phone. Message undelivered. Blocked.
He punched the wall of the lobby. Again. Blood. “She chose him,” he whispered. “She chose the prison.”
Upstairs, Ada closed her eyes in Daniel’s arms and made a promise to Baby B: `I’ll keep you safe. Even if it means lying. Even if it means losing myself. Mummy will save you.`
- Writer
