THE FORCED PLAY An Overture of Deceit “I also don’t like you, you know,” Akin said, looking at her directly.
THE FORCED PLAY
An Overture of Deceit
“I also don’t like you, you know,” Akin said, looking at her directly.
The soft, instrumental music drifting through the speakers of the upscale café did nothing to ease the suffocating tension between them. They were sitting opposite each other not by choice, but because they were the chess pieces of an arranged marriage orchestrated by two powerful, uncompromising fathers.
Kyra pursed her lips, suppressing a sigh. She stirred her orange juice, which had long since watered down from the melted ice, and replied coldly, “I’m actually glad we are on the same page.”
“I only said we should pretend to be friends, not lovers,” Akin said, leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice to keep neighboring tables from overhearing. “At least, we don’t need to tell them anything definitive after this meeting. I know they won’t want to push things too much if we don’t flat-out reject the idea. If we say ‘no’ right away, they’ll just double down on the pressure.”
Kyra frowned, her skepticism clear. “So what is your plan, exactly?”
“Instead of giving them a hard ‘no’ and facing their wrath, we just tell them we want to get to know each other better. It buys us time. Then, along the line, we’ll start ‘arguing’ and ‘fighting’ a lot. Eventually, we’ll tell them we are simply incompatible and that we’ve decided to part ways amicably. They won’t be able to blame either of us.”
Kyra shook her head slowly.
“For how long are we going to pretend?” she asked. “It feels like we’re only going to make things harder. The moment we start faking it, our parents will do everything possible to make it work and move things faster. They might even try to push for an engagement by next month.”
Akin breathed in deeply, trying to remain patient. He leaned back in his chair, a confident, reassuring smile playing on his lips.
“No. I know what to do before it gets to that. My baby and I already planned it.”
Kyra paused, her eyes widening. “Planned what? You mean your girlfriend?”
“Yes,” Akin nodded, his eyes softening slightly at the mention of his partner. “We’ve thought this through. So don’t worry. I won’t waste your time.”
“But my time is already running out,” Kyra said, anxiety creeping into her voice. She clasped her hands together. “What should I tell my fiancé now? He wants to come and see my dad again next week to discuss our marriage.”
Akin shrugged, offering a casual piece of advice. “Just tell him to hold on and give it some time. Ask him to postpone it for a few weeks so we can sort this out quietly.”
Kyra shook her head again, the uneasy feeling in her chest growing stronger.
“I don’t like this,” she muttered. “It’s too risky.”
The Quiet Undercurrents
Akin left a few hours later. From her vantage point on the balcony, Kyra watched him walk out to the driveway. She saw him talking to her dad, but the distance made it impossible to hear their conversation. All she could see was her father laughing heartily, clapping Akin on the shoulder, while Akin maintained his usual polite, charming demeanor.
When the gates closed behind Akin’s car, her dad’s heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. He called out to her, his voice booming with satisfaction.
“Kyra! Come over here for a second.”
Kyra took a deep breath, composed her expression, and walked into the living room. Her dad was sitting on the leather sofa, taking a slow sip of his hot tea.
“What did you think about him?” he asked, his sharp eyes studying her face.
Kyra feigned hesitation, playing along. “I don’t know… but I think I’d like to study him. Give it some time.”
Her dad nodded, a broad smile spreading across his face. “He’s a good man. Very promising family.”
“What did he say to you?” Kyra asked, pretending to be curious.
“He said he was happy to meet you and that the two of you would get to know each other better,” her dad replied, visibly pleased. “I am glad you are being reasonable about this.”
Kyra nodded as relief washed over her, though it was quickly followed by a heavy weight of guilt. The curtain had risen on their play, and she wasn’t sure she could keep up the act.
A Third Party’s Insecurity
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Bukola was pacing the floor of Akin’s apartment. Her heart was beating rapidly, matching the relentless ticking of the wall clock.
A barrage of worst-case scenarios flooded her mind: What if he fell in love with her? She is wealthy, beautiful, and exactly who his family wants. Could that actually happen?
Bukola tried to shake the thought, but her own insecurities always ran deep.
The click of the front door lock cut through her thoughts. Akin walked in, looking thoroughly exhausted. Bukola immediately rushed over, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his chest. As she pulled back, she carefully studied his eyes, looking for any sign of detachment.
She let out a quiet breath of relief when she found the familiar, tired warmth she was looking for.
Akin sat down on the sofa, and Bukola quickly slid in right beside him, wrapping her arms around his.
“I want to hear everything,” she urged, her voice rapid. “What does she look like? Did you get her number? What did you talk about?”
Akin sighed, a small laugh escaping his lips as he pinched her cheek. “Relax, baby. You have nothing to worry about. She’s in a relationship too.”
Bukola’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. “Really? Are you joking?”
“No, I’m serious,” Akin said. “She’s dealing with the exact same pressure from her end.”
Bukola’s face lit up. “This is very nice. So, what did you tell your parents? Have you told them?”
“We plan to pretend to get along for now,” Akin explained. “And then, along the line, we’ll start having issues and eventually break up.”
The excitement on Bukola’s face instantly vanished. Her expression tightened, replaced by sudden skepticism. She pulled her arms back and sat up straight.
“Why would you do that? Is it really necessary? Why can’t both of you just be honest with your parents and end this now?”
Akin frowned, feeling the weight of the day catching up to him. “Why are you talking like this, Bukola? You know the situation, baby. Her dad also knows she has someone, but he still wants me for her, just like my parents want her for me. If we force a confrontation right now, it’ll blow up in our faces. This is the only way to stall them safely.”
Bukola sighed, crossing her arms. “Hmm… I don’t trust this. Did her boyfriend agree to this?”
“I don’t have any business with her boyfriend,” Akin said, his tone growing slightly impatient. “That’s her responsibility.”
“I need to see the lady before I know what else to say,” Bukola insisted, her gaze locking onto his. “Can we tell her we want to meet? Set up a double date.”
Akin shook his head. “That’s not necessary, baby.”
“It is,” Bukola pushed back. “At least let me meet the woman who is going to be playing ‘girlfriend’ to my man.”
“She might suggest that her boyfriend comes too if we do that,” Akin pointed out.
“Then perfect. That would be nice. We can all get on the same page.”
Akin rubbed his temples, too tired to argue. “Okay, baby. I’ll talk to her.”
Suddenly, Akin’s phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table. He picked it up, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he read the screen.
“Wow. Today is Ola’s birthday celebration,” he exclaimed. “I completely forgot. Let’s get dressed and go.”
Bukola rolled her eyes, her posture stiffening. “I’ve already told you we’re not going.”
Akin sighed, his voice turning pleading. “Come on, baby. It’s just a birthday party. You don’t even have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”
“But your friends will be there,” Bukola said, her voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. “You know they don’t like me. They look down on me and make jokes. So we’re not going, and that’s final.”
Akin stared at her for a moment, seeing the stubbornness in her eyes. Realizing he wasn’t going to win this, he leaned back against the cushions and let out a long, weary breath.
“Okay, baby. We’ll stay home.”
He closed his eyes, but the heavy, restrictive silence of the apartment offered little comfort. Between the lies he had to tell his family and the tightening grip of Bukola’s insecurities, Akin felt the walls of his life slowly closing in.
