Some things don't fall apart loudly. They shift quietly… until you no longer recognize where you stand.
🦋 IMANI'S POV
By the time I stepped into the kitchen, the sun was just coming up, but the place was already alive. Oil sizzling. Voices overlapping. Plates clattering.
I paused at the entrance for a second, just watching.
This used to be small. Just me… one gas burner… guessing my way through recipes and praying people would like it.
Now?
"Morning, boss!" someone called out.
"Morning," I replied, tying my apron as I stepped in. "Who handled the stew base?"
"I did," Sade said, raising her hand.
"Okay, bring it."
She brought the pot over. I dipped a spoon in, tasted, then shook my head slightly. "Salt is fine. Pepper dey okay… but this oil too much small."
She frowned. "Too much?"
"Yes. If it sits like this for one hour, the oil go separate. Remove small."
She nodded immediately. "Okay, boss."
I handed it back and moved on. "Chinedu, how far with rice?"
"Almost done."
I stopped walking. "Almost? If client ask you 'almost', you go collect money?"
He scratched his head. "No, ma."
"Exactly. So next time say the exact thing. Is it done or not done?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Five minutes."
"Better."
I checked the small chops table next. Spring rolls lined up, samosas stacked, puff-puff in trays.
"Who fried this puff-puff?"
"I did," a girl said.
I picked one, pressed it lightly, then took a bite. "Hmm. Shape is fine… but inside too tight. You rushed the yeast."
She winced. "I thought"
"Don't think. Follow process. Good food no dey rush."
She nodded quickly. "Sorry, boss."
"Redo that batch. You'll get it."
That was how we worked. Correction. Adjustment. Growth. No ego.
By 9:30 a.m., I was upstairs, laptop open, going through the proposal for today's meeting. Shell company. Over 200 staff. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, daily.
I tapped my pen against the table. Transportation cost… staff rotation… preservation.
"If I price too low, I lose. If I price too high, I lose the deal," I muttered.
My phone buzzed.
"Good morning, is this Imani Kitchen?"
"Yes, speaking."
"This is Mr. Bello from Delta Shell Services. We're confirming your 2 p.m. meeting."
"I'll be there."
When the call ended, I stood up slowly. "Alright… let's go to work."
The conference room was cold. Too cold. Three men. One woman. No smiles.
"Good afternoon."
"Afternoon."
"Have a seat."
I sat, straight-backed.
"We've gone through your profile," Mr. Bello said.
I nodded. "Okay."
"This is daily operation, not events."
"I understand."
"Capacity?"
"I'll expand staff and structure shifts, morning, afternoon, night."
"Expansion costs money," another man said.
"Yes. But bulk sourcing reduces cost per meal."
"Consistency?" the woman asked.
"Systems," I said. "Measured recipes. Training. Supervision. I don't outsource quality control."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm present. If something goes wrong, it's on me."
Silence. I knew that, so I brought some my staffs with me.
"We'll need to taste your food."
"Of course."
The trays came in. Not just snacks. Real food.
Jollof. Fried rice. Egusi. Vegetable soup. Beans. Plantain. Chicken.
They tasted quietly.
Then"This jollof…" one man muttered.
Another nodded. "Balanced."
The woman smiled. "This is good."
I didn't react. I just watched.
"Your pricing is still high," Mr. Bello said.
I nodded slowly. "It reflects quality and consistency."
"And if we want a reduction?"
I held his gaze. "Then something else reduces."
Silence.
"Meaning?"
"Portion size. Ingredient quality. Or staff strength. But not everything stays the same while price drops."
"You're very sure of yourself."
"I'm very sure of my work."
That landed.
The meeting ended without signatures.
But I knew, I had done enough.
Outside, the air felt warmer.
Easier.
"You handled that well."
I didn't turn.
"You've been following me?" I asked.
"I came for a meeting. Saw your name."
I faced him. "Coincidence?"
"Maybe."
"Or you're just nosy."
He smiled slightly. "That too."
Silence.
"You didn't flinch," he said.
"If I start shaking now, they won't respect me."
"And if you lose the deal?"
"I'll get another one."
He paused.
"You actually believe that."
"I have to."
He stepped closer. Not too close.
"You're building something real."
"I've always been."
"And still you're afraid."
That hit.
"Don't start."
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You keep pushing like you're trying to prove something."
"I am."
"What?"
"That you feel this too."
My chest tightened. "Stop."
"Why?"
"Because this is how it starts."
"With Daniel?"
I froze.
"Don't," I said.
"What did he do?"
"That's not your business."
"It is if it's why you keep shutting me out."
I laughed dryly. "You think this is about you?"
"I think you're running."
That did it.
"You don't get to walk into my life and act like you understand anything," I said.
"Then help me understand."
"I don't want you to understand!" I snapped, then lowered my voice. "It never starts bad."
He didn't interrupt.
"He was nice. Patient. Everything you're doing now. And then I became small… adjusting… shrinking… until I didn't recognize myself."
Silence.
"I'm not doing that again."
"I'm not asking you to shrink."
"Not yet."
His jaw tightened.
"You don't trust me."
"I don't trust what this becomes."
That was the truth.
That evening, Olivia came over.
"We need to talk."
"Why you look serious?"
"It's Abraham."
I stilled. "Okay…"
"He said he likes me."
"And you?"
She hesitated. "I like him too."
Silence.
"But what if it messes things up? I don't want to lose you."
I looked at her. "You won't."
"You sure?"
I nodded. "Just don't lose yourself."
She exhaled. "Okay."
Later, Abraham came in.
"You don hear?"
"Yes."
He sat down. "I like her, Mani."
"I know."
"I no wan play with her."
"Then don't."
He rubbed his face. "I no wan spoil anything between una."
"You won't. Unless you mess up."
He laughed. "You too trust me small."
"I don't. That's why I'm warning you."
He shook his head, smiling.
"I really like her."
I saw it then.
And that?
Made me nervous.
That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Thinking about everything.
Work. Growth. Change.
Nathaniel.
His voice.
The way he looked at me like he already knew.
"This is not happening," I whispered.
But deep down.
I knew.
It already was.
*************************
✨ A Note to My Readers
Some people don't break your heart loudly…
they change you quietly.
Tell me—have you ever walked away from something not because it was wrong… but because it felt too real? 💛