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Chapter 9: Jacob Who?
Soon it was the day Jacob landed. Ifa stood at the edge of the arrival hall, fingers clenched around her phone, heart thudding with a mix of nerves and excitement. She hadn’t told him she’d be here. After months of back and forth of emails after emails of updates, she wanted to just be the surprise that grounded him after the long flight.
What unfolded before her eyes was nothing like what she had imagined.
A woman with a stroller stepped forward just as Jacob emerged through the sliding doors. He froze for half a second, then his face broke into the widest smile Ifa had ever seen. Not the soft, private smile he gave her through a screen, but something unguarded and radiant. He crossed the distance in long strides, immediately crouching to unbuckle the child from the stroller. He lifted the toddler into his arms, kissing chubby cheeks, laughing as the child squealed and grabbed at his face. The woman laughed too, touching his arm with an ease that suggested habit.
Ifa’s chest tightened.
He can’t be married, can he? He would have told her—wouldn’t he? She replayed their conversations in her head: his frequent pauses when she asked about him, his family. Did he hide his family?
Her phone buzzed in her hand as if urging her to act. She dialed his number, eyes never leaving him. Almost immediately, she saw him reach into his pocket. He glanced at the screen. For a split second, their eyes met across the crowded terminal.
Then he declined the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
The world tilted.
Ifa felt heat rush to her face, humiliation and disbelief tangling together. She stepped back, blending into the stream of travelers, afraid that if she stayed still she might shatter. Jacob lifted the child higher, spinning once, the woman’s laughter following them like a private melody. They looked like a family. A complete one.
She turned and walked away.
Outside, the air was sharp with jet fuel and rain. Ifa leaned against a pillar, trying to breathe through the ache in her chest. Her phone vibrated again—this time a message.
Jacob: I can explain. Wait there.
Her fingers trembled. Explain what? A wife? A child?
Before she could decide whether to reply, she heard footsteps. She looked up, ready to unleash months of restrained questions—but it wasn’t Jacob.
It was the woman.
Up close, she looked tired, eyes shadowed but kind. The stroller was empty now. “You’re Ifa, right?” she asked gently.
Ifa stiffened. “Who are you?”
“My name is Maira.” She hesitated, then sighed. “Jacob saw you. He panicked. He asked me to come talk to you before he does.”
That only deepened the knot in Ifa’s stomach. “So he sends his wife?”
Maira flinched. “I’m not his wife.”
Silence stretched between them.
“The child?” Ifa asked.
“Not his either,” Maira said quickly. “He’s my nephew. My sister, our sister, died last year. I help take care of him and just flew in too to catch up and meet Jacob.”
Ifa blinked, her thoughts scrambling to catch up. “Then why, why did he...”
“Because Jacob is a coward when it comes to hurting people,” Maira said softly. “Especially you.”
Before Ifa could respond, Jacob appeared.“Ifa,” he said, voice cracking. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
She crossed her arms. “Tell me what? About your family?”
“No,” he said firmly. “That I have a past I’m ashamed of.”
He glanced at Maira, who nodded and stepped back a few paces.
“My sister died because of me,” Jacob continued, words spilling out now. “Drunk driver. It was my car. I wasn’t driving, but I gave her the keys. Ever since, I’ve been helping raise her son. Maira and I—people assume things. I let them.”
“Why?” Ifa whispered.
“Because it was easier than explaining,” he admitted. “Easier than telling you that I was afraid you’d see me as broken. That you’d not even consider being around me.”
Ifa felt tears sting her eyes - not just from relief, but from anger. “So if I don't see you here, you'd just not tell me? You'd just let me think...”
“I know,” he said. “And I hate myself for it.”
She studied his face, searching for deception, but found only fear and remorse. The image from the terminal replayed in her mind, now reframed: not betrayal, but grief - maybe love?
“I declined your call because I didn’t want you to hear this from across a terminal,” he said quietly. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
The rain began to fall harder, drumming against the pavement. Ifa exhaled slowly.
“You don’t get to decide what hurts me,” she said. “But… let's start over. You can tell me anything like how I told you everything.”
Jacob nodded, eyes shining. “Everything,” he repeated.
As they stood there, suspended between what almost broke them and what might still be possible, Ifa realized the true twist wasn’t what she’d seen—but what she’d almost walked away from. Could Jacob really be the one? Would this feeling she felt be mutual?
//--- Please leave a comment if you want to read the next chapter. :)
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