Home > Emmyshub Series > #Emmyshubstories: ‘Don’t Cry’ FINALE

#Emmyshubstories: ‘Don’t Cry’ FINALE

#Fiction…
The end of the road guys, one final entry.

Previously on Don’t Cry;

When he was done, he stepped out of the room and asked for matches and a keg of fuel. BC knew it would come to this, so he had his boys keep on the side. When Segun received the items, he went back into the room and poured the fuel on Michael. The smell must have hit him hard because he struggled to look at Segun and plead, the dried up blood caked on his face.

Segun spared him a fleeting moment before lighting three matches and throwing them on Michael’s drenched body. The flames caught, and he threw the matchbox as well, stepping out without a moment’s glance to the man burning alive behind him.

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#17 of 17 – Epilogue
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She knocked on the gate and waited. She was feeling slightly nervous, but she told herself to calm down. She had tried her best, and it wasn’t her fault that things turned out the way they did. Definitely, she had tried her best… right? The sound of the gate opening made her jump. She hoped the gateman didn’t notice her jump as she tried to compose herself.

“Madam is in?” she asked him.

“Yes, she dey. She dey expect you sef,” the gateman stepped aside and gestured for her to enter the compound.

She swallowed at the thought of the madam expecting her, but she had to calm herself and walk naturally. She wasn’t going to let the gateman realize she was scared. As she got closer to the house, its colossal size made her bravado falter. The door opened when she was close to the door, and the maid stood behind it gesturing for her to enter.

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“Is she—”

“Yes, she’s upstairs waiting for you,” the maid answered, closing the door behind her. The maid led her to the staircase and diverted to another direction she was certain was the kitchen. She looked at the staircase and tried to still her beating heart. She couldn’t think of any other way to stall besides taking the steps one by one, but in the end she reached the top. Her steps echoed through the hallway.

“In the parlour, dear,” a voice beckoned her, and she obliged. When she reached the parlour, she saw the madam of the house seated comfortably with a glass of wine in her hand, the bottle chilling in an ice bucket and her gown spilling to the floor.

“Ah, Florence my darling. You’re here, welcome. Do take a seat.”

“Th-thank you, ma,” Florence answered as she took a seat opposite the madam.

The woman took a few sips from her glass before speaking. “You seem all jittery, dear. Why is that?”

“Eh… ma… it’s eh… i-i-it’s because it didn’t…” Florence swallowed. “Didn’t work, ma…”

“Hmm… and was that your fault?” the woman asked, sincerity in her voice.

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Florence shook her head slightly. “No ma… I did what I could on my end. I never thought Michael would—”

“Yes darling, I know. I should’ve known he would try something stupid. Even after I told him not to,” she sighed. “It can’t be helped, can it?”

“No ma… And… I’m also sorry for your loss.”

The woman’s eyebrows went up. “My loss? What loss?”

“B-Barbara ma…”

“Oh… Why yes, truly sour what happened to her. But by no means a loss to me.”

“Ma?” Florence was confused.

“Oh darling. She was a beautifully spirited girl, yes. But she was the daughter of that wench Omolara. No child of hers could be called a grandchild of mine.”

Despite herself, Florence felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She was not to blame, and this confirmed it.

“So… what next ma?”

“What next indeed…” the woman echoed as she poured wine into another glass and handed it to Florence, who took it with tentative hands. “We wait for the little boy to come to his senses. Now that Omolara has disappeared, he’ll come to realize that his true bride had been in front of him all along.”

Florence only looked at her dumbfounded.

“Or… isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“Oh yes ma! It is!” Florence fidgeted. “You think… you think Segun will finally marry me?”

The woman snorted. “At this rate he’d be an utter fool not to! Only a matter of time before you’re part of the family.”

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Florence beamed. “I don’t know how to say thank you, Mummy Segun.”

“Thank me? Good heavens why would you do that? This is meant to be!” Segun’s mother laughed again. “And please, none of this Mummy Segun stuff. It’s rather primitive, don’t you think?”

She raised her glass forward with a smile on her face, and Florence moved hers as both glasses clinked together.

“Please… Call me mum.”

**end**

#PhylixPages

A/N: And here, dear beloved readers, is the end of Don’t Cry. It’s been a long run. Not everyone that started with me reached the end, but that’s okay. It was expected in the end.
To those that chilled till the end, thank you for investing in the machinations of my mind. It feels honourable that for 8 consecutive weeks I was able to entertain you, and every Tuesday and Thursday you came back.

I would like to do a proper appreciation post later this week, but not now. I don’t feel too good, and I haven’t been sleeping well for like a week or more. I think I should get some rest.

Again., thank you all.

Blessings to y’all.
P.C.

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