A ROMANCE STORY THAT WILL CAPTIVATE YOU
“Ma’am,” the policeman croaked, his voice like a rusty jab as he scribbled in his register. “You’re saying that the vehicle parked outside belongs to you?”
I responded with a monotone affirmation, my eyes drained of vitality.
“And the gentleman in handcuffs is your boyfriend?” He gestured towards C-Note with the tip of his pen. I nodded again, my fixed look avoiding both him and Maria. Alas, it was my birthday and the hour was already four – a time when my spirits were typically buoyant. Instead, my eyes felt heavy with despair, my thoughts consumed by the fate of my car. The glasses, I lamented were not bulletproof nor was my cranium which I presumed was C-Note’s intended target.
“And what of the other guy?” The officer directed his inquiry towards Kwame Afua.
“He is my ex boyfriend” I replied, my countenance darkening. “A scoundrel who beats women.”
The nearby policeman seemingly provoked by my words struck Kwame with a sharp rap of his baton. “So you too dey touch rich women abi?” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.
Maria’s voice shrill and grating pierced the air. “Officer wait!” she implored.
Honestly, her words were the last thing I wished to hear in that moment.
“Joanne,” she called to me, her voice sharpened with a mix of pleading and accusation. “Are you going to look at me and explain the sudden breakup with my brother?”
I turned towards her my eyes blazing with indignation.
“No”, I spat rage. “First, you introduced me to Tunde, then Kwame and now you’re acting all innocent about your brother. As of this moment Maria Ashante we are no longer friends.”
Her countenance once dull now sparkled with a jarring realization – she had erred grievously.
“Joanne,” she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. “All I wanted was to get you a man. You know me deep down.”
I scoffed, my voice over the roof drawing curious glances from the station’s officers. “Come off it! All you wanted was to watch me fall apart and as of now I’m done with you and these thugs you call men.”
Maria stuttered, her words faltering before succumbing to a stunned silence.
C-Note quickly threw a sympathetic glance her way, his expression a poignant glance of pity.
“The girl got issues” he murmured as the officer dragged him away but Maria swiftly produced a card, her tears momentarily forgotten.
“Officer,” she entreated. “Half the cedis in this are yours if you let us go.”
The officer’s pen clattered to the ground, a sly smile spreading across his face, as he contemplated the bounty he had amassed from both myself and the woeful woman before him.
“It’s not enough” he replied, his tone avaricious. “How about a one night stand with me?” Maria’s hand delicately grasped his, her eyes pleading.
I felt my very essence recoil in horror, my face screaming her name in silent protest but C-Note intervened with fierce intensity.
“The money would suffice”, his low growl commanded attention.
The officers exchanged a weighty glance amongst themselves before acquiescing and removing the handcuffs with an air of reluctance. I, however had already departed, speeding away in a vehicle bereft of its frontal glass.
“Happy birthday to me,” I whispered as tears satisfactorily settled in my eyes.
I sped away seeking solace in the melodies of my music player. However, my mother’s gentle voice, a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves interrupted my melancholy reverie.
“Joanne Darlington,” she said, her call as delicate as a rose petal, “Happy birthday, my dear.”
I sobbed uncontrollably, the windy road unwinding before me.
“Maa”, I stammered. “Is something wrong with me?”
Her authoritative voice, a steady anchor in the tempest of my doubts calmed my spirit. “Who told you that?” she countered. “You are a strong, independent lioness, a queen among mortals. Nothing is wrong with you.”
I persisted, my voice laced with desperation. “But, Maa I can’t seem to keep a man.”
Her response was immediate,……a gentle rebuke. “Lies Joanne. Learn to speak kindly to yourself.”
A glimmer of joy, a faint smile, danced upon my lips as I acknowledged her wisdom. Despite her enduring love for my father, she knew that I, her sole progeny, was destined for greater things.
“I love you, Maa,” I said terminating our conversation. “I’m driving right now.”
“Farewell, Darlington,” she replied, her voice once more radiant with warmth. “Remember, you are perfect in your own right. Don’t let anything or anyone define your worth.”
I nodded, a sense of acceptance settling upon me like a mantle.
Approaching my abode, a sense of trepidation beset me. My gate usually a sturdy sentinel stood ajar, a welcoming gesture that filled me with misgiving.
“Mrs. Afua,” I pondered, “She must be really mad that I arrested her son.”
Yet, as I entered my driveway, a figure emerged from the shadows, a man who had waited patiently throughout the day.
“Tunde,” I exclaimed, my brakes squealing in surprise as my car’s headlight illuminated his countenance. “What brings you here?”
He awaited my descent, his hand previously hidden now proffering a bouquet of daffodils, their golden trumpet-shaped blooms a vibrant declaration of his intentions.
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