Eyelids fluttered open to a sea of white.
Angels.
Was her first thought.
As the white came into focus, it took on the form of men and women in lab coats and scrubs.
Hospital.
Was her conclusion.
A wry smile spread across her face.
Imagine thinking she was in heaven, surrounded by angels.
Besides she knew better than to believe angels were white. That was a dish served the world by the western media. Angels came in all shades and shapes.
She should know. She had met one. His name was Ugonna.
Ugonna was the only son of Chief and Lolo Uka Unaegbu. He was not just born with a silver spoon, he ate with it.
They met in her penultimate year in school. She was studying for exams and had not been eating well. Her roommate dragged her to an eatery. The ferocity with which she attacked the rice and beans awed him. He insisted on paying.
That was how a sweet relationship began. It lasted eleven months.
He travelled out to pursue an MBA. It was to take eighteen months. She did not hear from him for four years.
Only for him to show up at her introduction.
It turned out he'd been incarcerated for drug trafficking. He swore on his life that the tablets found in his luggage were not his.
Lola was torn.
Ishaku was the man she was getting married to. Ugonna was the one who'd swept her away.
Ishaku helped her decide.
He called her up on the phone.
If you are conflicted about being with me, then don't bother.
They did not speak for a week after that.
Then she learnt Ishaku suffered a relapse and was in the hospital.
She wept on seeing him. He was more catatonic than the first time.
She did not leave his side.
Ugonna dropped in. He watched the patient, and his nurse, for a long while, still, silent.
When he stood to leave, he left a hamper and a card on the table.
Later that night, Lola checked the gift, then the card. It held one word: Goodbye.
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