Love In New York City

EpisodeThree

Eventually, I found an apartment surprisingly, with the help of Adams, the secretary to the chairman at the company where David and I both work for. I never told anyone I was house hunting, so I had no idea how he knew I needed a place.

One day, I saw him sitting in the company lounge across from me, reading a newspaper. On the back page was an ad: “Looking for a luxury apartment? Call this number.”

I walked up to him. “Please, can I see that paper?” I asked.

He handed it to me without hesitation, stood up, and walked away without a word.

That was how I left David behind without him ever reaching out to me again.

Life moved on. I tried to forget him, but seeing him every day at work was torture. He smiled, laughed, and lived freely like I’d never existed. It drove me mad. I wanted to confront him, scream, cry but I couldn’t. I wasn’t brave enough. Did I just say I wasn’t brave enough? Gosh I have changed so much from the hot headed girl to a weakling.

I also couldn’t just quit my job and return home. What would my family think?

So, I stayed. I endured the heartache and navigated the pain on my own.

Christmas Eve

That night, I decided to step out. I needed joy, peace, something to remind me that life was still beautiful. I dressed up, took selfies, sent them to my family, had dinner at a cozy restaurant, and strolled through the festive streets. The lights, the music, the energy—it was magical.

“This is the Christmas feeling,” I whispered as I inhaled the cold air.

As I walked pass the streets

I saw him.David. He wasn’t alone.

Curious, I stepped closer.

And there she was. Eniola.

I froze.

She looked startled when she saw me. She quickly stepped away from him, but David took her hand again, boldly.

I smiled, though I felt like breaking inside. “Wow. I must’ve been a fool all along,” I said, forcing calm. “I guess she gave you what you wanted, David. And you’re satisfied now?”

He didn’t respond.

“Cool. You don’t have to say anything. I wish you happiness with her.”

I turned to walk away, but Eniola reached out and grabbed my hand.

“Eliana, don’t be mad at me. I love David. I’ve always wanted him. But I swear I didn’t steal him. He came to me willingly.”

I pushed her hand away. “What? What kind of nonsense is this, Eni?”

David stepped in, voice sharp. “Girl, why are you so pained? I broke up with you. Leave me the hell alone.”

People were starting to stare. I couldn’t take it. I ran off and cried the entire ride home in a cab.

….New Year

Living alone hasn’t been easy. My apartment is a two-bedroom on the top floor of the building. I specifically chose it so I could enjoy the night view of New York.

On New Year’s Day, I celebrated with my family over a video call.

Elijah wouldn’t stop gushing about his wife. “Mummy, I’m so in love with this woman,” he said, making Felicia blush beside him.

Mom, as usual, told us the story of how she met Dad. “Fola and I met at school in Nigeria. He was handsome, respectful, and patient. My girls, listen, never settle for a man who won’t respect you. Fola waited. We didn’t do anything until after marriage. And now look we’ve produced four successful children.”

She beamed with pride.

Then, I asked quietly, “How do you know when a guy isn’t pretending?”

They all froze.

“Eliana, are you seeing someone?” Dad asked.

I shook my head quickly. “No ooo! Just asking… you know, to be on the safe side.” I forced a laugh.

They all chorused “Ohhhh,” and even Felicia joined in. I laughed too.

“My family, calm down please.”

But deep down, I couldn’t tell them the truth. I couldn’t let them know how broken I’d been for the past seven months. If Mom knew, she might actually find David and have him locked up.

They ended the call with prayers. And just hearing their voices lifted my spirits.

I promised myself: No more tears for David. I’m letting him go.

Later, I went into the kitchen and dished out some fried rice I had made earlier. I pulled out a bottle of orange juice gifted to me by my neighbor’s housekeeper. Funny enough, I’d never seen the actual neighbor, even though our apartments were the only ones on the top floor.

I played my favorite music, ate quietly, and danced the rest of the night away.

For the first time in a long while, I felt free.

…….

BENJAMIN

I’ve been living alone in New York for four years. As an only child, I relocated with my parents from Abuja to Canada when I was just fourteen. My parents have always been my world. They don’t joke with me, they’ve poured all their love and attention into me. My mother still battles the heartbreak of not being able to give me a sibling, but I’ve always reassured her: I’m okay being an only child.

Both of my parents are medical doctors, so they got jobs at a hospital in Canada . We left everything behind in Nigeria,friends, family, our entire life. I remember the tears I shed when I realized I wouldn’t be able to see my friends anymore. Especially Her.

It felt like a whole chapter of my life was closing, and I was stepping into the unknown.

Three years ago, I took a bold step and launched my own company BJM, specializing in data and programming solutions. My parents were incredibly proud. As their only child, and they always made sure I had everything I needed, even if it meant sacrificing their own personal time. They’ve always been there for me, showering me with their love , support and care.

Since then, it’s been a ride. I’ve built a life here. I’ve made great friends: Tolu, Jake, and Mark Lee. They’re not just friends; they’re my co-shareholders and investors. And now, as the chairman of BJM, I manage 15 employees. I always strive to treat each one of them with fairness and respect. Leaving my parents wasn’t easy but I’ve always wanted to explore New York City , build a life here and I am doing just that.

Last year, we expanded our data team. While I wasn’t directly involved in the recruitment process (I’d delegated that to the head of department), a week later, I found a résumé on my desk. As I scanned the name, I froze.

Eliana.

I whispered her name to myself. “The same Eliana I know?”

“She’s in New York...?” I smiled hoping she was the one, a memory from years ago flooding back.

I had met Eliana back in during my junior year of high school. We were assigned to sit together when we resumed late in our first year. I didn’t understand it at the time, but there was something about her that drew me in—her bravery, intelligence, and outspokenness. We were always topping the class with her always calling me “Bookworm benji”, even though she hardly spoke to me just few times . Most of the time, she’d insult me, telling me not to put my hands on her desk I was shocked when she said this because, at that point, we shared one desk and two chairs. The desk was big enough for both of us, but she was so demanding. So, I started using my thighs as my table whenever I needed to write. Despite her harsh words, I found her fun, and even attractive in a strange way.

“You’re so tiny and ugly,” she would tease me, always acting bossy, behaving like a little hooligan with her sisters. In my third year of junior school, I had no idea that my parents were planning our relocation. Then one day, my mom casually mentioned that she wanted to celebrate her 45th birthday with friends and family before leaving. I didn’t understand why she said “before leaving.”

The party came, and I was surprised to see Eliana and her parents there. They came for the celebration as well. We barely spoke, but I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was elegant, graceful and even at that young age, unforgettable. Our eyes met a few times, and each time, I smiled, and she smiled back. But we didn’t talk. I remember asking my mom who her family was, because it seemed like my parents and hers were close. We took pictures together our moms insisted, but I was happy. We were so close, smiling into the camera, even though there was still a lot unsaid between us. Till date I kept that picture of us.

After that day, we never crossed paths again. The following weeks flew by as we packed up and prepared to leave for Canada . That was the last time I saw Eliana before I moved across the world. And now, years later, her name landed on my desk, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant.

Years passed. I never asked my parents about her.

Then last year, my mom called, excited. “Ben, my friend’s daughter is moving to New York!”

I replied casually “who’s that” and didn’t really care.

I never imagined she was talking about Eliana. My first love and last.

Was this fate giving me a second chance?