February 14, 2017

Maryland, Lagos, Nigeria.

Bukola used to be my joy.

There was no explaining it, but whenever she was around, she brought me this happiness that couldn't be explained. Sometimes, I just didn't feel worthy of her.

She was always there whenever I needed her. Always. Anytime I wanted someone to talk to, rant to, or just be with, she was just one phonecall away. She stood by me, even before I hit fame.

Our relationship had been going strong for the past three years and today, finally, I was going to ask her to be mine. Forever. Because I couldn't see a life without her in it.

We'd spent Valentine's day together. We didn't go out. Just stayed at home and goofed around like children until our sides hurt from all the laughter and playing.

My problems began when we laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling together. I was busy thinking about a way to propose to her. The ring was situated in my back pocket and every muscle fiber in me itched to just pull it out and get it over with, but I restrained myself.

Doing it in the house would be too plain. Bukola didn't deserve plain. She deserved all the colorful things in the world.

So when I'd said, "I want to take you somewhere", I'd thought everything was going to go smoothly.

The Maryland Mall wasn't too far away from my apartment and I thought it would be the perfect place to propose. It was going to be like those k-drama episodes she loved to watch. They were annoying, and exaggerated every single emotion there was in the world, but Bukola loved them, and I was going to give her a live scene from one of them.

A little drama never hurt anyone, right?

Bukola smiled a smile that made my knees go weak. Her brown eyes seemed to shimmer with eagerness as she replied, "Okay."

She sat up and looked down to her outfit; a red short-sleeved gown that hugged her frail looking body. Her eyes flickered back up to mine. "Should I change?"

"No," I smiled, getting up myself. "You look great."

She grinned right back at me, no sign of embarrassment whatsoever. It was typical of her. She never felt the need to bear a bashful expression because of a compliment. She was bold, unlike most of the women I knew.

"Thank you. Though, I think I'll put on some makeup." She lifted her hand and pressed her thumb and index finger together, squinting to show effect. "Just a little."

I laughed then pressed a kiss to her cheek. I didn't know about her, but that action made my chest constrict. She made my chest constrict, but it wasn't a dangerous feeling. It was more comfortable.

"Go do your thing," I told her. "I'll wait in the car."

She nodded and hurried to the mirror, grabbing her purse on the way. I watched her for a moment, wondering if all women carried makeup around like that. Then, with a smile, I left the house and got into the car.

Once I shut the door, I said a prayer for goodluck. My palms were a bit sweaty and my heart beat was faster than normal.

Did all men feel this way just when they were about to propose? Was this normal?

With heavy breaths, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my closest friend.

To Douché:

I'm about to propose to Bukola. Wish me luck.

A reply came almost immediately. It wasn't what I'd expected.

From Douché:

I hope she says no and shoves the ring down your throat! Goodluck anyways, you're going to need it.

I lifted my eyebrows.

That wasn't encouragement, and it was far from what I needed. But it did make me laugh. He was probably still angry that I stole his lucky tie for a board meeting. Sometimes, Yemi had the temper of a female on her period.

I almost didn't notice the passenger door open and Bukola settle into the seat, but once I did, I slipped the phone back into my pocket.

"What was that?" Bukola inquired.

For the first time since she entered the car, I looked at her face. She had minimal makeup on, but her lips were coated a deep color of red that matches her dress and made her look intimidating. Generally, her makeup was bold, just like her personality.

"You look nice," I commented, not wanting to diverge the topic but diverging it anyway. Yemi and Bukola were friends. They annoyed each other a lot and made up a lot but they were friends either way.

"You've already said that."

"And I'll say it again."

Bukola laughed, her head tilting back in the process.

"Okay, Romeo," she said after her laughter. "Where are you taking me?"

"The mall," was my simple reply before I put the car in drive. I clutched the steering wheel with both hands and focused on the road.

─────•─────

Maryland Mall was packed, just like any normal Nigerian mall.

Women, men and families hurried around, grabbing things off the shelves, chatting and generally shopping. Giggling children ran past, accidentally hitting my arm but too engaged in the fun they were having to apologise.

I couldn't help but smile at their small figures. For the briefest of moments, I forgot why I was here in the first place.

That was, until Bukola reminded me unknowingly.

"Are you remembering your childhood?"

When I looked at her, she had a playful grin on her face. I nudged her with my shoulder since my fingers were entangled with hers. "They are cute."

"They are, but I'm sure you didn't bring me here to look at cute children." She suddenly pulled her eyebrows together. "Wait, I hope you don't think they are for sale."

"What?" My eyes bulged out. "No! That's crazy. Why would I-"

Bukola laughed and leaned the side of her head against my shoulder as we walked. "You're so tense. There's something bothering you, isn't there."

She could read me, too well. If I didn't propose now she was either going to make me go back home and have some rest, or figure out why I drove us here and end up proposing to herself on my behalf. I didn't want either of those options to come to reality.

Subconsciously, I put my hand into my pocket, feeling the ring there and relaxing. "There is, but it isn't very serious-no, it is but-"

She stopped walking, effectively halting me as well. Then she let go of my hand to place both hers on either side of my face, turning me to face her. "Are you okay, Jacob?"

My heart.

"Swell," I managed to get out. I stepped away from her, a hand still in my pocket. It was now or never, no getting out of this.

A sweat broke out on my forehead. What if she did say no?

"Jacob-"

I have to do this.

"It's fine, Bukola. I just..." I exhaled and wiped the sweat off my forehead with a nervous laugh. "This is harder than I thought."

"What is?" she asked, clearly confused.

I put up a hand, finally ready to do it. My other hand slipped into my pocket to draw out the ring while I sunk to one knee. Bukola, finally understanding what was going on, slapped a hand over her mouth and stepped back with wide eyes.

Those around us had caught on to the scene as well and were now increasing in number, forming a murmuring crowd.

I ignored them and focused on the woman before me, my soon to be wife. If she accepted me, that is.

A smile took over my face when I saw the hint of a teardrop form in her eyes.

"Bukola," I began, heart slamming in my chest. "I've never been good with speeches, but, I love you. I love every aspect of you and I want us to grow old together. I want to wake up with you every morning, I want you to be mine."

I drew out the ring and held it in front of her. She gasped. The murmurs increased and in the midst of it all, I could hear faint giggles.

"Marry me, Bukola."

She was crying. I wasn't sure how to react: whether to stand up and hold her or just stay put.

I never got to make that choice though. And I never got my answer.

The florescent light bulb over our heads flickered. At first it seemed like nothing, but then we heard an ear-shattering crash from the second floor above us.

People panicked, everyone was looking up, including Bukola. I got up quickly, wondering what was going on.

There was this bad feeling at the pit of my stomach telling me that something was about onto happen. And I wasn't going to like it.

A man with a megaphone materialized from nowhere with a panicked expression on his face. He positioned the megaphone before his lips and shouted into it.

"Eveyone exit the mall! It's about to crash and take all of us along with it."

Nobody moved at first. We all stared at him like he was stupid. My gaze shifted to Bukola who was already watching me, eyes wide.

"It's okay," I comforted her by mouthing. I wasn't sure if it worked. Our attention went back to the man with the megaphone. His wide eyes stared back at the crowd-at us.

"What are you guys still doing here?"

Another crash was heard, sending the ground shaking beneath us. Bukola screamed. Finally, I decided that this was time to act.

My heart began pounding and I turned to Bukola. Just as I was about to grab her wrist, the chaos broke loose and everyone surged forward, starting a stampede.

I lost sight of her.

But I could still hear her voice, crying, calling out my name to find her, asking where I was. I tried yelled back, but it was of no use. At some point, a random person grabbed my arm and dragged my shouting figure out of the mall just before it came crashing down.

I watched my world crumble, and it was my fault.

Weeks later, there was a public announcement for people who escaped the crash to come to the hospital and Identify their loved ones.

Bukola was missing, that was what I told myself. It was what I believed. I refused to accept that she was gone, just like that.

But after much persuasion from Yemi, I finally went to the hospital . . . and found Bukola's dead body.