The Message.

What do you do when you get a suspicious message from a woman –well, I assume the gender is female– telling you not to get married to the man of your dreams? You ignore it, right? It's definitely a spam message. I genuinely wish I could. But there's this thing in me that doesn't know how to back down once curiosity has been piqued. I just have to know. So I do what anyone in my position will do. I ask. Dayo chews on his meat with deliberate precision and patience, like he has all the time in the world. “So..” “Finally.” He is exasperated, his fork clattering on his plate. I blink, taken aback by his outburst. “What?” “The Sewa that I know doesn't take this long to share her thought process.” His head does that slight tilt when he gets concerned. “Out with it, baby girl.” I chuckle awkwardly. Didn't know I was that obvious. But he's right. I never take long to share what I am thinking. So why am I hesitating with this one? Leaning against the table, I pass my phone to him, the text message I received from the stranger open on the screen. “I got that message on the night of our engagement.” I scrutinise him. “What does she mean by that?” Dayo's eyebrows pinch together as he reads the text. His gaze remains on the phone and for a second there, I can swear that his demeanor changes. Not for long, though, because the next second, he passes the phone back to me and laughs. “I can't believe you'll ask me that.” “Why not?” I frown. “Is there more to the message that I should be worried about?” He meets my eyes briefly, then settles them on his plate. “No. It's a spam message.” It's not. Whenever Dayo wants to reassure me, he makes eye contact, not laugh. I stare at him. He looks up at me, laughs humorlessly, and points to my phone. “You seriously don't believe that, do you??” “No. I don't.” And for the first time since I started dating Dayo two years ago, it feels like there's a part of him I have no access to. Suddenly the meal tastes like sandpaper in my mouth. “Exactly. You have nothing to worry about.” Smiling, I drink water. ♡♡♡ “What do you think I should do?” Groaning, my head drops into my palms on my lap. Then I lift it. “I mean, I really tried so hard not to be bothered by it. And Dayo is avoiding me these days.” “Avoiding you?” Kemi question. “How? I thought he assured you that it's nothing.” I get up from the bed and move to the floor where Kemi is seated. “He is avoiding eye contact with me.” She snorts. “Eye contact? Girl, are you for real?” “He's big on eye contact. I am telling you.” I know Dayo. He's definitely avoiding me. The room goes silent. It may seem like I am overthinking things, but there are valid reasons as to why. First, it has everything to do with Dayo and not the message I got. If he says that it's spam and nothing happened in February, I believe him. I will believe him. Except that he didn't tell the story well, and he's avoiding me whenever we meet up. It's been five days. I didn't bring up the message again. However, he's being weird. Besides, isn't he supposed to ask if I got another message from the spammer? He's hiding something from me. I know he is. But what? And how do I find out what he's hiding? “Hey,” Kemi slaps my thigh. “If he won't tell, you can find out for yourself.” “How?” “Respond to the message.” “What?” I reel back. “Why will I do that?” “Do you want to find out what happened in February or not?” Our gaze clashes. “Ask for a meet-up. I'll go with you.” Doubt creeps in as I reach for my phone. My fingers hover over my keyboard. Knowing what happened in February has been what I could think about since the proposal. So, why am I reluctant to know? “Sewa, just message the person. You're thinking too much.” Am I? “Isn't it better to know now than to know after you're married to him? Marriage isn't something you can just walk out of, girl. Message.” Kemi fires on. “It'll pain you if you find out he's a cheat after marriage o.” My head jerks up. Cheat? Dayo? Funny how that hasn't crossed my mind since I got the message. Some things are not Dayo, and cheat is one of them. “That's not possible.” I glare at her. “Sha message the person.” I bite the inside of my mouth. I don't like the way Kemi is talking; however, she's right. It's better to know and move on. I'd hate to regret anything. So I type. Me: Hello. Is it okay if I ask for a meet-up? I don't quite get what your message implies. I hit send, then wait. Kemi and I hover over the screen. It doesn't take long before a response comes in. Stranger: Sure. How does 5 PM today sound? We can meet up at Palmer restaurant. My heart leaps. “Today??” I glance at the time on my phone. It's 4:15 PM. “Tell her okay,” Kemi says, and I obey. “Palmer is 30 minutes away from my place. We can take my car. Come on.” She gets up and grabs her purse. I follow suit. “Kemi, wait.” “Sewa, take deep breaths.” Once again, I obey her. “It is okay to be anxious about the things you are unsure of. What isn't okay is to remain that way. Either we go and put this behind us, or we cancel it and put it behind us. Except that you won't.” She's right. Oh, my gosh, she's right. I take another deep breath in. “Okay.” “Okay.” She hugs me. “Let's go, then.” ♡♡♡ Kemi and I sit down in a corner of the restaurant as we wait for the lady to come. We are 10 minutes early. I rub my palms together, take a sip of my Coke, then look around. Once again, I check the time on my phone. Just 3 minutes to 5. “I hope this meet-up doesn't go worse than I expect it to be,” I mutter. “Not to add to your derailment, but expect the worst, babe.” “Hello?” My eyes fly up at the thick voice. “I am the one who texted you, Sewa. Can I take a seat?” I nod numbly. What I expected to be a female turns out to be a male in his 30s. Bald, with a little bit of a beard. Dressed smart and looking sharp. The worst Kemi said I should expect drops like a bomb in my head. Dayo isn't…gay, right? Oh, Father Lord. The iced Coke turns hot in my stomach. I blink. What is going on? “I am Tunde, nice to finally meet you, Sewa.” He speaks, eyes staring into mine as if he knows me way before I know myself. “And congratulations on your engagement.” All I can do is stare at him. Kemi glowers. “Is that sentiment sincere? Because from the message you sent 5 days ago, I doubt it is.” “I truly am,” Tunde responds to her, but his gaze remains on me. “So, did he tell you what happened in February?” I shake my head. “Of course he won't,” he chuckles spitefully. “The Dayo I know won't tell you about it because he desperately wants to forget about it.” My back straightens. The Dayo I know?? Lord have mercy. “What happened in February?” The dread in my tone can't be hidden. Tunde clears his throat. “Dayo and I used to be business partners, and on our way back home from a business meeting, we got into an accident. We were talking about something, and he wasn't looking at the road when he hit them.” Lumps take position in my throat. “Them?” “Two sisters. The oldest was around 10 to 12 years old. The youngest died on impact.” He pauses for a while, eyes on the table. “While we were debating if we should take them to the hospital, the other died.” “A hit-and-run??” What's this? Fiction? “Wait, wait,” Kemi says, “was it not the case that two corpses were found by the roadside in February?” She turns to me, eyes wide in realisation. “We were together that evening when we read the news on IG.” Then it hits me. Dayo calling me that night, asking me to come to his house. Dayo weeping profusely in my arms and seeking reassurance. He was out of it for days. I thought his business deal went down the drain and that he had lost millions of naira. It was because of this??? The world around me blurs. The more it settles in, the more bile rises to my throat. Dayo murdered two girls, and I'm getting married to him.