THE BOYFRIEND BETWEEN US

Ema balanced the tray of freshly arranged wigs on her arm as she stepped out of the small shop. The sun was already high, stretching across the busy streets of Enugu like a spotlight that refused to move. She blinked against the brightness and adjusted the strap of her handbag. "Today has to be a good day, " she to herself. "It just had to."

Her phone buzzed again.

Chuka.

For the fourth time this morning.

She sighed before picking up the call.

"No vex, baby," she said softly. "Network has been bad."

"So you don't pick up my calls because of the network?" Chuka repeated, his voice already carrying that familiar sharpness. "Ema, I'm not one of those boys you ignore. You hear me?"

Ema swallowed. "I didn't ignore you. I'm heading to the delivery point now. I told you yesterday, na."

Chuka clicked his tongue. "How much do you get now? Have you sold the frontal I bought for you?"

Ema pressed her lips together. "I'm trying, babe. Business dey slow, small..."

"I invested in your life, Ema," he reminded her, as if she needed reminding. "You know how much I put into that your wig hustle? So try dey serious."

"I'm serious," she whispered.

"Good. Because I don't have the strength to drag with you today. I'll come see you later. And dress well, you hear me? You're my babe. You represent me."

The line went dead.

Ema stared at her screen for a moment, chest tight.

She loved Chuka... or maybe she thought she did. Before the possessiveness. Before the reminders of what he had done for her. Before the subtle threats hidden inside sweet words.

She took a deep breath and kept walking.

Her life wasn't terrible. It was just... stuck.

Every plan she had now was tied to what someone else had done for her. Every decision she made, she had to think of Chuka first.

She wanted more. She wanted freedom. She wanted a future she controlled.

But wanting and receiving were two different things.

Ema reached the main junction and waited for a keke. As she stood there, sweaty and impatient, a black SUV sped past her, splashing a wave of muddy water onto her white dress.

She gasped.

"Jesus!"

The car slowed. The tinted window rolled down halfway.

A deep, calm voice spoke.

"I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

Ema wiped the wetness from her arm and looked up.

She couldn't see his full face yet only the silhouette of a man in designer shades, his hair perfectly trimmed, his wristwatch gleaming like it cost more than her entire shop.

Something about him... presence, aura, authority... made her heart skip.

The man's voice carried a gentle command.

"Let me drop you off. You can't go around like that."

Ema blinked, confused for a second.

She didn't know this stranger.

She didn't know his world.

She didn't even know his name.

But one thing was clear:

Her life had just brushed against