LACES & STRINGS EPISODE FOUR

 

LACES & STRINGS

Episode Four

I was just stepping out of the office to get some water when I heard them.

Dapo’s voice was unmistakable, laced with amusement. I wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t heard my name.

“E be like say Témì don dey wise o.”

My body went still.

“Why you talk so?” his colleague asked, laughing.

“Guy, you no see am? She no bring food today. That one na serious upgrade.”

They burst into laughter.

“Omo, I knew what I was doing,” Dapo continued, his voice full of smugness. “Just show her small care, call her babe, and food go dey steady. Free lunch every day. Save my money. Simple strategy.”

His friend wheezed with laughter. “Chai! Women and their mumu button.”

Something inside me should have cracked. Maybe a few weeks ago, it would have.

But now?

Now, I felt nothing but satisfaction.

I had made the right choice.

Without waiting to hear more, I walked away, my head high, my heart steady.

—

After work, I decided to treat myself.

There was a small cafeteria not too far from my office, one I had passed several times but never bothered to enter. Today, I did.

The smell of freshly made jollof rice and grilled chicken filled the air, warm and inviting. I placed my order, then leaned against the counter, scrolling through my phone.

“Hi, beautiful.”

I glanced up.

A man stood beside me, dressed sharply in a fitted shirt and dark jeans. He carried himself like someone who was used to easy wins.

“Hey,” I replied, polite but distant.

“I’m Samuel,” he said smoothly.

“Témì.”

“Nice name,” he said, then, without hesitation, “You should come over to my place sometime. Let’s hang out.”

I blinked.

No pretense, no lead-up. Just a straight-to-the-point invitation, like he expected me to say yes without question. He wasn’t rude. He wasn’t aggressive. But there was something so entitled about the way he said it, as if it were a foregone conclusion.

The old me might have hesitated, might have laughed awkwardly, might have come up with an excuse just to avoid looking difficult.

But the new me?

I smiled—warm, but firm. “No, thank you.”

He looked surprised. “Oh. Why not?”

“I don’t want to.”

No explanation. No apology. Just a simple, clear, undeniable no.

I collected my food, nodded at him, and walked out.

As I stepped into the evening air, I felt something settle in my chest.

I had just mastered the art of No.