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Chapter 2

Lola

Was it odd to say that I felt so good when I was supposed to be mourning my father's demise?

Last night was wonderful. Mr stranger—yes, I named him stranger because I didn’t get his name—was the most wonderful companion ever. I’d gone to the club, not seeking company but for an easy escape from my grief, but the heavens surprised me with one.

Even now, I can still remember how he smelled like chocolate melted in a bucket of sandalwood. His deep set brown eyes probed into my soul each time he set his gaze on me with that Greek god body that was specially built to tempt all womankind.

Just one accidental meeting, but the feelings he aroused in me had become permanent. I was twenty-two and I could boldly say that I’d never felt that way for any man before, not even my current boyfriend.

The only sad part was his age. He was apparently old enough to be my father so why couldn’t I stop pining for him?

It didn't mean that my heart didn't constrict whenever I remembered my dad, but the images of Mr stranger helped ease the pain a bit.

A persistent knock dragged me away from my reverie. Quickly, I flattened my back on the bed, shutting my eyes tightly so that my mother wouldn’t have to interrogate me when she came in.

Unfortunately, the door creaked open, her flip-flops slapping noisily against the tiled floor. “Sit up, Lola. I know that you’re awake,” her harsh voice riled me up.

Rolling my eyes, I faked a yawn and gradually folded into a sitting position. “Good morning, mom,”

“It’s afternoon. Where did you sleep last night?”

“Somewhere around. Why do you care anyways?” I retorted in a sharp, nonchalant tone.

I’d never taken that tone with her because of my father. He hated that my mother and I didn’t have a good relationship, but now that he was gone there was no use pretending that we liked each other.

“Lola…” her voice cracked, lowering into a deep octave.

“Yes, mom, you will stop acting like you care about me. How about that?”

“But I do care and you live with me, Lola. Your father was buried last night and you didn’t have the decency to come home. What on earth is wrong with you?”

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, the feeling of tranquility I’d enjoyed since last night evaporating into thin air.

“It’s you, mom. We’ve never been in a good place, and seeing you act so concerned after everything you did to frustrate daddy before he died disgusts me. You shouldn't be here, mom. Go out. Have fun, be with those men that make you happy and stop with the pretense,” I ranted.

My rant was cut short by the painful slap that landed on my cheek. My eyes watered as I scoffed.

“You should be grateful that I haven't thrown you out. Do you think your late father was a saint? Do you think I woke up one morning and decided to hate on him?”

My body shivered with rage. If she weren't my mother, I'd have engaged her in a physical combat.

“Don't speak evil about the dead, mom. He can't even defend himself,” I corrected her.

She sucked her teeth, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Enough of this argument. I came in her for something else,”

I poked my tongue against my inner cheek. “What is it?” I asked coldly.

“I'll be traveling for work for the next six months,”

I rolled my eyes, settling on the bed while scrolling through my phone. Traveling round the clock wasn't new to me. It was even annoying that she had to tell me about it.

Going MIA meant that I had the house alone to myself, only that this time, it would be longer.

“Okay. Have fun on your trip. Take your time,” I replied sarcastically.

“You won't be staying here for the time I'm gone,” she declared.

My eyes bunched in surprise as I dropped the phone. “If I won't be here, then where will I stay?” I stared at her keenly, trying to read her mind. “What have you done?”

She sighed in resignation, flailing her arms in the air. “I leased the house for six months. We need the money for your tuition and other expenses. You know my job can't suffice for all our needs,”

I gulped then burst out laughing to ease off the tension hanging on my shoulders because everything was going too fast. Just yesterday, we were mourning my father. Today, our house was being leased.

My mother had to be the most illogical and heartless woman ever. My dad had set up a trust fund that was more than enough to take care of my educational needs, so that lease f*e was definitely not going into my education.

“You’re something, mom,” I said amidst laughter.

She waved it off. “I've made arrangements with your new guardian. He's waiting for you in the living room,”

All traces of laughter cleared instantly from my face when I realised that she wasn't bluffing. She'd actually rented our house to someone else and now she was shipping me off to a total stranger.

“You must be joking,”

“Well, I'm not. You'd better come with me. We don't want to keep our guest waiting,” she replied flatly.

A guest was waiting in the living room? I couldn't make sense of what she was saying. I was about to ask her for an explanation when she trudged out of the room.

I trailed behind her furiously, but her strides were faster, more urgent as though she couldn't wait to get rid of me.

I could remember asking her two years ago if she was my mother after smashing my phone all because I forgot to go on an errand for her.

She never answered, and what she just did cemented my suspicion.

“I need answers, mom. You can't just do this. I'm sure dad will be stirring in the grave because of your irrationality,” I rushed behind her until we got to the living room. “I'm not leaving this house until…” the words died on my lips when I glanced at the visitor.

A gasp eluded me. “Mr stranger?”

He looked at me, standing up, a bit flabbergasted however he masked it with a small smile. “Hi,” he greeted curtly and turned to my mom. “Is she your daughter?” he asked her, completely ignoring me.