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Captive Heart: Hearts In Peril (Episode 44)

Posted by on September 29, 2016.


I need to resign.

Lionel stared at Helen in confusion for a few moments, and in those moments she wished she could take back her last words. She knew it had probably been the last thing he expected to hear. But as the silence stretched, her resolve strengthened.

This was the right thing to do.

She took a deep breath. “I know the employment contract I signed when you hired me specified that I must give you at least a month’s notice if I want to resign, and I promise, sir, that the moment I am discharged from this hospital, I will continue work for the next month. But you need to start looking for a replacement.”

Lionel stared at her for a few more moments, his face unreadable.

“Why?” he finally asked. “Why do you want to resign?”

“Because I brought all this trouble into your life, sir.” Helen said calmly. “Chioma is… was my friend and when you hired me, through me, she saw an opportunity to do what she did. I blame myself.”

Lionel kept his gaze on her and she turned away. Her reason wasn’t a lie; she did feel guilty about being the proverbial gateway for Chioma’s evil plans, but her primary reason was much more personal- she couldn’t bear to cause a rift between him and Bukola. So she looked away, because she couldn’t look into his eyes and continue with a half-truth.

“I know both Mr Bernard and Mr Kelechi Dike were involved, but she planned it all. And I may have told her some sensitive information without knowing…”

“Enough.” Lionel cut in. She looked up and saw he was nodding at her, his lips stretched in a sad smile. “Enough of the blame game we are both playing here. But I appreciate and respect your decision and reason for wanting to leave my employ. And I accept your resignation.”

He rose up from the plastic chair and Helen felt a pang of regret as he towered over her, his face in shadow once more. He was so near and yet, so far away.

“You will be greatly missed, Miss Bassey.” Lionel said formally. For a moment, Helen wished she could see his face. He sounded formal, but she thought his face might have betrayed his emotions better. “Please, do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything.”

She thanked him and he turned around and left the room immediately without looking back. As the door softly shut behind him, Helen let out a long breath, and eased herself down in the bed. Tears threatened to trickle out from beneath her eyelids, but she held them back.

He was never hers to begin with.

Life would go on.


Two weeks later, she wearily turned the key in the lock of her apartment door and pushed her way inside, hissing as she met a solid darkness courtesy of the local electricity power providers.

She was too tired to expend energy putting on her generator, so she made her way around the small apartment using the aid of her phone’s torch. Twenty minutes later, after taking a quick shower and swallowing a few pain tablets for the headache which always came and went since her accident, she was warmly bundled up in bed, and alone with her thoughts.

She had been discharged from the hospital a week before, and had spent the past week training the young man who would be taking over her position as house manager of the Thomas Mansion.

It was a hectic chore, but she was determined to do it right. She was also amused that a male had been chosen for the job. Maybe Bukola had put her foot down and insisted that a female should not be hired. And who could blame her? Helen had not seen Lionel’s fiancée since the hospital incident; she assumed the woman was content to avoid her until she finally left.

Her heart twisted as she remembered the few times she had seen Lionel since the day she told him she was resigning. He was civil but distant, and she found it difficult to be around him. As she drifted off to sleep, she allowed her thoughts to wander to his handsome face and perfectly sculpted body.

In reality, they could not be together, but she would let her imagination run free.

It was the best she could get.


The next morning, when she opened her front door at exactly seven a.m. to leave for work, she found Bukola Deinde at her doorstep.

“We need to talk.” Bukola said tersely. “Now.”

To Be Continue 4pm

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Categories: Blog Columnist

6 Responses

  1. Hmmm

    by Acid on Sep 29, 2016 at 10:40 am

  2. hmmn

    by mhiz rhopheehart on Sep 29, 2016 at 11:02 am

  3. bukola…..hmmmm

    by base on Sep 29, 2016 at 1:33 pm

  4. Still Reading

    by ViCiK on Sep 29, 2016 at 1:47 pm

  5. Eh

    by bola on Sep 29, 2016 at 3:46 pm

  6. Watin she want

    by Sodo on Sep 30, 2016 at 12:02 am

Comment below

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