Love In New York City

ELIANA Living alone isn’t as exciting as I imagined, I’ve been in downtown New York for a year now. I moved to New York in January last year at 24, and I still remember the chaos and emotions of that decision. As the last born of four children, my parents weren’t ready to let me go. My older brother, the firstborn and only boy, relocated at 18 to study medicine in the U.S., where he met his lovely American wife. Now he’s a permanent resident, with three beautiful kids. My twin sisters, Elaine and Ella, left two years agp but stayed together in Abuja, so they’ve always been within reach. But me? I chose New York. Far away. Another country. A bold move. My mom didn’t take it well. She cried the night before I left, which was oddly touching. We’d fought so much over the years that it felt surreal to see her so emotional. “Mom, so you’re this soft now?” I teased as she sat on my bed, eyes teary. “You’re the same person who always shouted, ‘Eliana, go and marry already!’” She glared at me through her tears. “Shut up! It’s not like I’ll miss you.I’m just sad. I and your father never forced you out, but you chose to leave.” I sat beside her, taking her hand. “I’m not running away, Mom. I got a great job as a data analyst in New York. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” She looked at me with those loving, worried eyes, and I realized how much I’d miss her. We hugged. A long, tight, overdue hug. That kind of hug that reminds you you’re still someone’s baby. For a few minutes, we just stared out the window as the breeze danced with the curtains in silence. Then she broke it. “Eliana Daniels.” I laughed at how she said my full name with pride. “My baby, I wish you success, happiness, money... and please, meet a man,” she said, gently brushing my cheek. That comment made me cough a little. “What?” She raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I thought you and Dad didn’t want me dating anyone?” She chuckled. “We were just trying to protect you. Look at Elijah,he didn’t listen and got dumped three times before meeting Felicia.” Then she held my hands and said something I never expected: “I didn’t want you and your sisters dating every guy before finding the right one. But now..it’s time. Meet someone, fall in love, get married.” I nodded, too nervous to tell her the truth. I had already met someone, David, a Nigerian based in New York. We'd been in a long-distance relationship for three years. We’d met twice, briefly, when he came to Nigeria for work. My parents didn’t know about him, and he was the real reason I was moving to New York. I just smiled. “Okay, Mom. I’ll meet someone soon.” The day finally came. Elaine and Ella came to help take me to the airport. We cried, laughed, sang, and reminisced all through the drive. “I can’t believe the baby of the house is now a big girl,” Ella teased. “Stop! I’m a big lady now,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully. Elaine laughed from the driver’s seat. “Big lady? You, who calls me at 2 a.m. crying about the tiniest things?” I blushed and covered my face in embarrassment. They were older than me, but we’d always been more like best friends than siblings. We were inseparable. When we were all still at home, the house was always noisy, either because we were busy chatting or playing the Nigerian game "Catcher Catcher," where we’d run around the compound like little kids. Yes, we were grown, but we never fully accepted that we were getting older especially Ella, who still acted like a baby. Mom and Dad always complained about how loud we were. I remember one time, Dad said, "At your age, you’re still playing with water guns?" We just laughed because he didn’t understand how much fun it was. I also remember my junior year in high school when my sisters were in their senior year. We were rebellious, especially me. My sisters gave me the freedom to misbehave since Ella was the head girl and Elaine was the assistant. Honestly I know bullying is bad, but I was a gangster , I hate when my classmates don’t succumb to my instructions since I was the class captain. I would shout at them, but I didn’t beat anybody up. Boys and girls feared me, my mouth was sharp like a running water tap. My sisters and I were excelling in school, but we acted like hooligans, playing rough like boys. My high school years were a blast, especially with them around before they graduated and went off to university. After they left to the university my wings were cut off, I couldn’t feel bossy again because no one would protect for the repercussions. I became a little bit calm but still demanding, even mom and dad praised God I was a little bit better. They complained Ella and Elaine were bad examples for me, despite how they trained us to be good children. It is only Elijah that was calm and hardly disturbed mom and dad throughout his stay in Nigeria before traveling. When my sisters finally decided to move out into their own apartment, I struggled to adjust. I would visit them every weekend. My sisters were always the life of the party. They loved going out not to bad places and weren’t in any hurry to settle down. Ella would always say, “Since Mom and Dad wanted us to stay single for so long, I’m going to enjoy life before settling down.” But me? I wanted love. And David? He was love. Even with the distance, he was constant, kind, and intentional. I could have found work in Nigeria , but I didn’t want to. I followed my heart to New York even if I couldn’t explain that to anyone back home. I left. When I arrived at JFK, it was 7 p.m. I stepped out and saw David casually leaning against his sleek black Tesla. He looked good ,better than I remembered. My hands dropped from my luggage as I walked toward him, heart racing. He smiled and pulled me into a hug, kissing me on my lips intensely, before I could say anything. I didn’t even hug him back, I just blushed like a teenager. He pulled away and smiled at me. “Are you going to keep staring?” he teased, pulling me close by the waist. I stuttered, caught off guard. “No..I mean, yeah, I’m just...” He laughed. “Babe, relax.” He took my luggage, loaded them into the trunk, and returned to hold my hands. “I missed you so much, Eliana. I couldn’t wait.” I smiled. “I missed you too. I’m really happy to be here with you.” I was so happy to finally be with my man. The first three months of living with David felt like a dream—he cooked breakfast every morning, made sure I was always relaxed, and we were inseparable. We were more than just lovers; we were best friends. Even though we had separate rooms, David always ended up sleeping in mine. It made me feel safe. We'd cuddle, laugh, talk for hours, even dance. It felt like home with him. One evening, we were watching a movie on my laptop in my room. I noticed him staring at me, and his gaze felt… different. I looked at him and asked, “What?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he gently closed the laptop, set it aside, and moved closer, our faces just inches apart. Then he whispered, “I love you, Eliana.” I knew what was about to happen, and even though I loved him, I wasn’t ready for that step. “David,” I said softly, “we can’t do this.” He looked confused. “Why?” “I should’ve said this earlier... I want to wait until marriage.” He paused, then slowly pulled away. “I’m sorry. I respect your decision. Let’s sleep.” From that night on, he never pressured me again. We still hugged and spent time together, but he never brought it up. I was grateful, I thought I had found a man who truly respected me. By the fourth month, everything started to change. David became distant. , he said work had gotten more intense. He said he was always with the chairman, Mr. Benjamin, or in meetings. I barely saw him. When he finally came home one night around 10 p.m., I was so excited. “You’re back!” I said, hugging him, but he didn’t hug back. He didn’t even lift me like he used to. Something felt off. “What’s happening to us?” I asked, pulling back to look at him. He avoided eye contact. “What do you mean?” “You’ve been so distant, David. We barely talk or see each other. I hate this.” “I know,” he sighed. “I’ve just been so busy. Chairman Benjamin has been loading me with work. You know how he is.” But something didn’t feel right, for the few months have worked in BJM, the chairman never keeps his employees working late.we close 7pm , except otherwise. He wouldn’t look at me while talking And I knew he was lying. Since that night, he hardly came home. And when he did, it was like I didn’t exist. At work, he avoided me too. “Babe, please,” he said one day when I tried to talk to him at the office. “We can’t let people know about us. No office romance.” That stunned me. I never asked for a public relationship. We didn’t even meet through work. His words felt like an excuse. One Saturday morning, I’d had enough. I went to his room and knocked. He opened the door shirtless, wearing joggers. I froze for a moment he looked so good, and I realized how much I still loved him. He wasn’t my first love—I had a crush in high school when I was 14. It was on a boy, someone I’d known for a while. He was my seatmate from year one to three in junior school before he suddenly left, off to God knows where. We’d sat next to each other for three whole years, yet I never really thought much of him, at least not in that way. Most of the time, we’d fight, and I even called him ugly once because of how tiny he looked compared to the other boys. I never imagined I’d develop feelings for him. Then one day, my parents insisted I go with them to an event, and I reluctantly agreed. As soon as we arrived, I spotted him. What I didn’t know was that the party was actually for his parents. It felt like a scene out of a movie, the way we just locked eyes from across the room, not saying a word, yet feeling something shift. He was dressed so well, so effortlessly stylish, and something about him suddenly seemed so… charming. I had never really noticed how cute he was before. It wasn’t just his looks, though. There was a maturity about him that made me feel both nervous and excited all at once. From that day on, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. But, as life often goes,he left. And just like that, my crush on him faded away. But then there was David. David was different. He wasn’t just someone I admired from a distance; he had my heart completely. It wasn’t the same crush as the one I’d had on my former seatmate. With David, it was real. It felt like something deeper, something that stayed with me. Or maybe