The days in Uyo had begun to stretch into a rhythm for Glory. Every morning she woke to the chatter of neighbors sweeping their compounds, the sound of distant okadas revving to life, and the soft thud of Chiburuoma's pestle as she pounded yam for the family. The wedding preparations were in full swing now — wrappers being measured, guest lists debated, food vendors consulted. Glory found herself pulled into it all, though her mind often drifted elsewhere.
That elsewhere had a name. Abraham.
She tried to ignore the way her chest tightened each time she caught a glimpse of him passing down the street, tall and confident, greeting elders with a respectful nod. She tried to dismiss how the sound of his laughter from across the compound carried into her room, echoing in her ears long after the night quieted. But it was becoming harder.
---
One humid afternoon, Chiburuoma dragged Glory out of the house.
"Abeg, no dulling. There's a football hangout at the viewing center near Itam junction. Abraham and his guys will be there. It will be fun."
Glory raised a brow. "Football hangout? Since when did you start watching matches?"
Her friend grinned. "Since Arsenal lost to Man U the last time. The noise was too sweet. I must see Tamuno's face today."
Despite herself, Glory laughed.
When they arrived, the viewing center buzzed with energy. Plastic chairs lined the open-air space, boys clapped and whistled as highlights played on the mounted TV. Abraham was already there, seated with Emperor and Tamuno, but he wasn't alone.
Three young women sat with them.
The first was small, almost childlike in her frame, with bright eyes that sparkled each time she laughed. She leaned close to Abraham as though everything he said deserved her fullest attention. That was Nmeseoma, introduced as the "baby of the crew."
Beside her was Jennifer, her features calm and composed, her posture elegant without trying. She had an easy smile and carried herself like someone used to being respected. She greeted Glory with a nod that felt polite but measured, as if silently saying I see you, and I know where you stand.
The third, Grace, towered slightly above the rest when she stood to fetch drinks. Lanky, bold, and quick-tongued, she teased Tamuno mercilessly about Arsenal's poor form, making everyone laugh.
Glory tried to keep her expression neutral, but inside, unease stirred. These girls weren't just acquaintances. They were part of Abraham's circle, close enough to laugh with him, joke with him, even nudge his shoulder like they owned a piece of his space.
And he let them.
---
The match kicked off, and the viewing center roared. Abraham and Emperor shouted themselves hoarse every time Man U threatened the goalpost, while Tamuno groaned dramatically each time Arsenal fumbled. Nmeseoma clapped along, Jennifer calmly analyzed the play, and Grace jumped to her feet whenever something exciting happened.
Glory found herself watching Abraham more than the screen. The way his eyes lit up, the way he explained strategies with his hands, the way his voice rose above the crowd — he seemed most alive here. It struck her again: football wasn't just a game for him. It was part of who he was.
"Don't mind him," Chiburuoma whispered, noticing where Glory's gaze lingered. "Once ball dey, na so him forget the whole world."
Glory smiled faintly, but her heart wasn't calm.
---
Just as the match ended in a thunderous cheer — Man U victorious — another figure entered the scene.
Desmond.
Dressed in a crisp shirt and jeans, he looked more like he had come from a meeting than a football hangout. But his presence was commanding. He moved through the crowd with a confidence that turned heads, carrying two bags of chilled drinks.
"Glory," he called warmly when he spotted her. "I thought I might find you here. So I brought something for everyone."
He set the bags down, and within seconds, the table was filled with bottles of malt and soft drinks. Laughter and grateful cheers erupted. Even Emperor, always suspicious of new faces, raised his bottle in salute.
Abraham's smile, however, faded.
Desmond claimed a seat beside Glory, close enough for his cologne to envelop her. He leaned toward her, speaking in a tone meant just for her ears. "You've been scarce since you came back. I was beginning to think Lagos had carried you away completely."
Glory shifted slightly, aware of Abraham's eyes flicking toward them. "I've just been busy helping Chiburuoma with the wedding plans," she said lightly.
Desmond's gaze softened. "And you look more beautiful than before. Lagos suits you."
A flush crept up Glory's neck, though she forced a laugh to cover it.
---
As the evening wore on, the two men seemed to circle each other in unspoken rivalry. Desmond offered drinks, cracked jokes, and even shared a story about helping his uncle secure a business deal. His charm was undeniable, and the group warmed to him quickly.
But Abraham, though quieter, radiated a steady presence. He didn't compete for attention; instead, he sat back, watching, analyzing. When he did speak, it was simple but sharp, enough to draw laughter or agreement.
Glory felt caught in the middle — her heart tugging one way, her mind whispering another.
---
Later, as the crowd dispersed, Abraham stood at the edge of the street, arms folded, watching Desmond walk Glory and Chiburuoma part of the way home. Emperor joined him, sipping the last of his drink.
"You no like am," Emperor said flatly.
Abraham didn't answer.
Emperor chuckled. "Forget this your silent style. That guy dey serious. If you sleep too much, you go wake up and find say na him dey carry your woman."
"She's not my woman," Abraham muttered.
Emperor gave him a look, half-amused, half-warning. "No be so your eyes talk."