CHAPTER 2: A THROW BACK
HENRY'S POV
Mr. Daukon Ukariwo, the owner of ECV group of companies, who for many years is known as one of the wealthiest man because of his multi-million dollar companies.
Mr. Daukon, being
tired of his son's still a bachelor, and his way of life, has been trying all his possible best to match-make him with some of his wealthy friends daughter. Who he considered to be intelligent, eligible and fit for his sons hand in marriage, through arranged dates. Though, with the help of his son's friend Victor.
Victor and Henry have been best of friends since childhood.
Victor has always lived a very Christian and God fearing lifestyle.
He got married at age twenty-four, with the support of his parents.
Mr. and Mrs. Franklin. Since then Victor felt is wise for his own best friend to get married, early too.
Sitting in a well furnished office, mirror glasses covering all corners of the walls, with my apple laptop facing towards me.
While on my table. Pressing and scrolling through my iPhone.
With a welcoming smile on my face, as I respond to a potential client, who just told me, he really liked my presentation and would love to invest.
Immediately my office phone rang, I looked, it was my dad calling.
"Hello dad", I said,
"Hello son", replied Mr. Daukon.
"How are you"? I asked.
"Very well son, what about you?" my father said.
"I'm doing great," I replied.
"Dad, do you know I just got a billion dollar deal right now, with Mr. Mandela and immediately you called," I said with a smile.
"Wow! son, I am so proud of you," replied Mr. Daukon.
"Thanks dad" I said immediately.
Still wearing a smile,"Son", my father called out.
"Yes dad", I answered.
"I called to remind you of the meeting you have with Mr. Uzo's daughter", he said.
"Oh! come on dad, what is the necessity of this meeting", I asked.
I get irritated each time I found out that am going on a date. Especially, one arranged by my father.
"Look son", he said.
"If you succeed with this one, I promise to take my hands off you", He explained.
"Just try and make it work, remember the both families will remain friends forever, just take this one seriously and I will also inform Victor to remind you okay". He said.
"Okay dad", I replied angrily.
"Bye son", he said and hung up.
We both hanged up. I was still in the office, immediately it was three minutes for me to leave, my phone rang again.
This time, it is Victor on the line. I quickly grab the phone, placing it on my ear.
"Hello Victor", I said while trying to gather my stuffs on the desk.
"Hello my guy, what's up", he said.
"Am good bro", I replied.
"Your dad asked, that I call you. To remind you of your date this evening with Mr. Uzo's daughter", said Victor.
"Yeah! I remembered' I said.
"Please try not to keep her waiting", Victor said.
'"You know am always a gentleman", I said.
"Ok my friend, do have a wonderful evening", he said and immediately hung up.
I was so exhausted, if not for the respect I had for my dad and Victor, I wouldn't have giving this date a thought.
The office was quiet, too quiet, in fact.
The kind of silence that settles like a thick blanket over a room once bustling with activity.
I stood near the desk for a few long seconds, staring at the now bare surface.
The wooden grain gleamed under the amber glow of the desk lamp, every groove and scratch suddenly more prominent, more significant, as if each mark held a memory of what had transpired in that space over the years.
I reached for the items that still lingered, a few pens, a half-filled notepad, a coffee mug with a chipped handle, and finally, my laptop.
I paused briefly as I picked it up. It felt heavier than usual, or maybe that was just my imagination. Or maybe it wasn't the laptop that was heavy, it was everything that came with it; the weight of the emails, the unfinished reports, the conversations left hanging, the decisions made too late or toob soon.
I slid the laptop into my leather satchel and fastened the clasp.
The click echoed in the empty room. The sound startled me a little, almost like a final nail in the coffin of a date I wasn't sure I was ready to attend.
I looked around once more. The bookshelves were already stripped bare.
The whiteboard on the wall still bore traces of past ideas, hastily wiped away but faintly visible, like ghosts of plans abandoned mid flight.
Deliberately, I lowered myself into the chair by the window.
The fabric cushion was still warm from where I'd sat earlier.
I had always loved this corner, the window overlooked the city skyline, a jagged silhouette of steel and glass that shimmered in the distance like the future I once dreamed of chasing.
The streetlights flickered to life below, tracing glowing veins of traffic through the darkening evening.
I pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over the screen for a l moment before unlocking it.
Notifications flooded in, emails, l unread messages, news alerts, but I ignored them all. I wasn't in the mood for noise. Instead, I opened the photo gallery.
The office was still silent. No footsteps in the hallway. No phones ringing. No conversations floating in from the adjacent rooms. Just me, the chair, and the slow hum of the city far below.
I scrolled through a few more pictures. Some from work events, others from late-night dinners and impromptu road trips.
A message popped up on the screen. His name. Just his name. No preview of the text. I stared at it, pulse quickening. For a moment, I considered ignoring it, letting it vanish into the digital void like everything else. But my thumb betrayed me, I tapped the message.
"Are you still there?"
Four words, Simple, Unassuming, but loaded.
I didn't reply. Not right away. Instead, I turned off the phone screen and set it on the table beside me.
I leaned back in the chair and stared out the window. The city was beautiful tonight.
The kind of beauty that only came when you were far enough away not to see the cracks.
I let my thoughts drift.
I remembered the day I first walked into this office. Fresh-faced, full of ambition, nerves buzzing like static under my skin.
The desk had been bigger then, the chair newer, the air charged with anticipation. So much had changed. So had I.
It wasn't just the job. It wasn't just me. It was everything. Life had this way of shifting under your feet when you weren't paying attention.
One moment you're rooted, confident, sure of where you're going, and the next, the ground gives way, and you're falling into the unknown.
I stood slowly, letting the moment settle. My knees cracked slightly, a reminder of all the hours I'd spent sitting there, hunched over spreadsheets and strategies. I picked up the phone again and stared at her message.
Still no reply. Still waiting.
I typed: "I'm here."
Then paused.
Deleted it.
I typed again: "I don't know".
Deleted that too.
In the end, I typed nothing. I just slid the phone into my pocket and picked up my bag.
Some questions didn't deserve easy answers. Some messages didn't need replies, not because the person didn't matter, but because you didn't know what to say. Not yet.
I walked to the door. My hand hovered on the knob. I glanced l back one last time. The desk, the chair, the faint imprint of who I had been. A version of myself I was leaving behind.
I opened the door.
The hallway was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the carpet.
I walked slowly, my footsteps echoing off the walls. Every door I passed whispered a memory: a meeting, a deal, an argument, a laugh. All of them part of a tapestry I had helped weave, but now no longer belonged to.
When I reached the elevator, I pressed the button and waited. The mechanical hum of its approach was oddly soothing.
The doors opened with a soft chime, and I stepped inside. As they closed behind me, I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls.
I looked tired.
But not defeated.
Not entirely.
The elevator descended. Floor by floor. Past the departments, past the reception.
When the doors opened on the ground floor, I stepped out walked into my car and drove of.