The week had already been unstable before she saw her.
Aduni was coming out of a meeting on Wednesday afternoon when she froze at the reception area of her office. Sitting there, legs crossed neatly, smiling as if nothing in the world had ever happened between them, was Morenike.
Her university roommate. Her former best friend.
The girl who once emptied Aduni's savings to "help her boyfriend" and disappeared for three months without a word. "Aduni!" Morenike stood up immediately, arms open. "Oh my God, you look amazing!"
Aduni did not move. She gave a small nod instead. "You're in Lagos?"
Morenike laughed nervously. "Yes now. I've been here for a while. I wanted to reach out but… you know… life."
Life.
Aduni hated that word. It was the most convenient excuse for betrayal. But she didn't say anything. She simply asked, "What do you want, Nike?"
The smile faltered for a second. Then it returned. "Nothing o! I just missed you. Can't I see my friend again? It's been awhile since we last saw each other...! Losen up a bit will you!" She giggled
Aduni knew better.
Still, she allowed the conversation. They talked for a few minutes. Morenike asked about her business, praised her success, admired her office like someone studying a house they hoped to move into. That evening, Morenike sent food to her apartment.
The next day a handbag.
The day after perfume.
By the fourth day, Aduni already knew where the conversation was going.
It came that Sunday evening. They sat in Aduni's living room. Morenike's voice was soft, careful.
"Aduni… my rent expired last month. Things have been tough. I just need somewhere to stay for a few weeks. Just until I get back on my feet."
Silence. Aduni leaned back slowly.
She remembered nights in university when she skipped meals because Morenike had "borrowed" money that never came back. She remembered being locked out of their hostel room because Morenike had given her key to a boyfriend.
She remembered crying alone when Morenike disappeared during exams.
And now she was back. With gifts.
With soft voice. With need.
Aduni stood up.
For a moment, Morenike smiled in relief, thinking the answer was yes. Instead, Aduni walked into her bedroom.
When she came back, she was carrying a bag.
She placed it on the table.
Inside were the handbag Morenike bough, the perfume, the food containers (washed and packed). And an envelope
Morenike blinked. "What's this?" Aduni sat down slowly. "I don't keep debts," she said calmly.
Morenike opened the envelope.
Money. More than the value of everything she had given.
Her face fell.
"Aduni… what are you doing?"
Aduni's voice was steady.
"I'm returning your gifts. And I added something extra so you don't feel cheated." Silence filled the room.
Then Morenike's voice broke. "So you won't even help me?"
Aduni looked at her. Not with anger.
With distance. "I don't do emotional investments that have failed before."
Morenike stood slowly. "You've changed."
Aduni gave a small smile.
"No. I remember."
When the door closed behind her, the apartment became quiet again.
But the silence didn't feel powerful. It felt heavy.
Because Morenike wasn't the reason Aduni was restless.
The real disturbance had started earlier that week. It happened on Tuesday.
Aduni was at a café reviewing shipment schedules when she heard a voice behind her.
"Aduni?" She turned. Her chest tightened.
Femi.
Her ex. The man she once almost married. The one person she never thought she could see again.
He looked thinner. Tired. Older in a way that had nothing to do with age. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he sat down without asking. "I've been trying to reach you," he said.
"I blocked you," she replied simply
He nodded. "I know."
Silence.
Then the story came. Lost job. Failed business. Debts. A new girlfriend who left. Family pressure. Depression.
"I messed up, Aduni," he said quietly. "I thought I was choosing freedom back then. I didn't know I was walking into chaos." She remembered that day. The day he told her she was "too strong" for him. The day he chose a softer woman.
Now he sat in front of her, broken. "I just needed someone who understands me," he continued. "You always did." That sentence. It pierced something she thought was dead. Because she did understand him.
She always had. And that was the problem.
"Do you need money?" she asked flatly.
He shook his head. "I need you."
The words sat between them like a trap.
For the first time in months, Aduni felt something she hated.
Not anger.
Not sarcasm.
Confusion.
For two days after that meeting, her emotions were scattered.
She snapped at staff.
Ignored Tade's messages.
Worked late without focus.
Memories she had buried began to resurface...how beautiful he looks when he laughs, their promises together to stay forever and a version of herself that believe in love and thought it was the safe harbour for her. That was why Morenike's request irritated her more than it should have.
Everyone was coming back. Everyone suddenly needed her. Everyone saw her as a solution. By Sunday night, after Morenike left, Aduni sat alone on her couch.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Femi.
"I miss what we had. Can we talk?"
Another buzz. Tade.
"You've been quiet. Everything okay?"
Aduni stared at both messages. Then she did something unexpected.
She switched off her phone.
Completely.
She leaned back and covered her face with her hands.
For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel strong.
She didn't feel in control. She felt tired.
Because being the woman who saves herself.....
Was beginning to feel lonely.
And somewhere, deep inside her, a dangerous question had started to grow:
If everyone keeps coming back…
Am I strong?
Or just the safest place to fall?