Samuel's POV
My life had been a rollercoaster of emotions ever since Angel left. At first, I couldn't even talk to her parents. I lost it because I felt like I'd lost the last link connecting me to her.
I finally managed to convince Aunt Blessing and got back on her good side—but not before she scolded me and basically threatened me that if I made the same mistake again, the one castrating me wouldn't be Angel, but her. I remember the shivers crawling down my spine when she said that.
When Angel clarified her feelings for me, I was shocked. Like, she could like me? I treated her badly, literally called her a mistake to her face. It felt like I was forced to eat my own tongue, and trust me, that's not a tasty meal.
Even after all that happened, I always envisioned how we'd meet when she came back home—how I'd make things right with her. But now? That whole dream's flushed down the drain.
I saw her yesterday. I couldn't believe my eyes. She's more beautiful now, somehow. But the girl standing there wasn't the Angel I knew. And man, that hurts—like a knife twisting.
She treated me like a stranger. Maybe I deserved that. But there was something... different about her. Something I just couldn't put my finger on.
"Samuel, when are you coming out of that room?" My mum barged in, breaking my spiral.
"Probably never."
"Samuel, do not cross me this morning."
"Fine, I'll be downstairs soon."
"Alright." I thought she was gone, but then came the throat clearing.
"Ahem"
"What now, Mum?"
"You do know you have to be at work today, right?"
Yeah, work. The place I love to hate. "Of course, I'll be down in a minute."
"You don't have a minute, Sam. Your father's leaving soon, and he wants you two to go together this morning."
"Why? We always go separately. What's the point now?"
I knew the answer. Damage control. After all the arguing and rumors, he wants to show a united front. Like a carpool ride will fix years of mess.
"He wants people to see that he cares for you," Mum said gently.
"You mean he wants people to think we're reconciled?"
"Sam, do not disrespect your father."
"Fine. Leave me alone."
"Be downstairs soon. Love you."
I didn't reply. Didn't have it in me.
I might not have said it earlier, but now I work at my father's company. Started as an intern, against my will, by the way. Then he decided I was 'worthy' of taking it over someday. Said I needed to keep coming—not as an employee, but as his son—"to learn the ropes."
That had been my reluctant routine... until last week.
Flashback
"Dad, you can't keep doing this."
"Doing what, son?"
"Dictating every damn decision in my life!"
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Do you even hear yourself? This is my life, not yours. I get to choose."
"I won't watch you destroy it. That's what a father does—guides his son."
"This isn't guidance. You're living my life for me!"
"Watch your tone, Samuel."
"Then let me live my own damn life."
"No."
"Why? What's your reason?"
"I built this company for my family. You're being immature. I'm handing it over to you. So stop whining."
"Immature? You don't see your family unless it benefits your image."
"Enough, Samuel."
"No. Following my dreams doesn't make me immature. You're just afraid I won't be your puppet."
"As your father, I command you to take over. That's final."
"You want a robot that'll follow your every command? Buy one, you have the money anyways. And If I ever take over, it'll be on my terms, not cause you told me too"
And I walked out. Straight home. No looking back.
End of flashback
I didn't go back for days. Now, here he is, playing "father of the year," expecting me to snap to attention.
I hate that he never asks what I want. Always his way or the highway. I wanted a bike as a kid, but he said no—had to uphold the CEO image. Bullshit.
If I could choose, I'd be a professional rider, not chained to some fancy desk signing deals I hate.
Few minutes later
I dressed up in the compulsory "uniform." A suit, but all it screamed was "corporate prisoner."
"Ready to go, son?"
If I said no, would he let me off? No chance.
"Yes, Dad."
"Let's go."
"Um, Dad?"
"What now?"
Typical.
"Can I take today off?"
"Why? You are not sick, are you?"
"To be honest, I don't want to be anywhere near the company today."
"You can't escape taking over."
"I know. Even if I tried, you'd hunt me down and drag me back."
"Don't speak to your father like that." Mum shot me the disappointed look I've seen too many times.
"Sorry, Dad. Is that okay with you, Mum?"
"Young man—"
"Please, just let me off today. I can't handle another verbal alteration this morning. Have a nice day." I turned and walked away.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed Alex.
RING RING
RING RING
RING RING
"Hey man, what's up?" his voice rang out
"Where are you?"
"At work. Why?"
"Fuck, I thought you'd keep me company today. I'm skipping."
"Not everyone can skip with just one word, even if they want to."
"Fuck you."
"Ew. First of all, no. Second, I'm not single. Third, I have standards."
"Yeah, and none of them include a gym membership, apparently."
"Excuse you—this body is a product of hard work and Monday motivation memes."
"Oh, so office chairs build glutes now?"
"Better than whatever half-dead posture you've got going from hiding in your dad's office like a mafia heir."
"At least I don't work under a boss who thinks 'team bonding' means eating jollof together in the breakroom."
"Hey! That jollof saved my sanity last week. We had PowerPoint hell and a surprise HR seminar."
"Aww, poor baby. Want me to knit you a stress ball?"
"Bite me. I've got targets, deadlines, and a line manager who thinks Slack messages are love letters."
"Join the club. I've got a dad who communicates with eyebrow raises and disappointed sighs."
"Sounds like our offices are just different flavors of suffering."
"Exactly. Yours comes with a coffee machine. Mine comes with legacy trauma."
"Whew. Deep. Want to switch jobs for a day? I'll wear your sad tie and practice my 'yes, sir' voice."
"And I'll wear your oversized hoodie and play Sudoku until lunchtime."
"Joke's on you, I don't play Sudoku anymore. I've upgraded to pretending to look busy while hiding in the bathroom."
"Legend. See, that's why we're friends. We're both just surviving different brands of bullshit."
"And yet here we are. One therapy session away from quitting and opening that noodles-and-coffee shack we talked about."
"Still a solid plan, by the way. I bring the charm, you bring the business acumen."
"Deal. Just promise I don't have to wear a tie."
"Only if I don't have to attend another HR seminar about 'workspace synergy.'"
"God, we're so screwed."
"Goodbye. I've got to work, don't wanna be sacked. Regardless of how much I don't wanna be here"
I chuckled slightly and hung up, driving off with no particular destination in mind.