Regret

Monica suddenly lost balance after the news about her mother, she could no longer feel her legs. She leaned on the wall for support and slowly fell to the ground.

She could barely breathe, and tears gently poured from her eyes. Filled with regrets, she shut her eyes, wishing it was all a dream.

"Oh no! What have I done?" Her voice trembled simultaneously with her lips when she realized everything happening was real.

She was on the floor for minutes reminiscing about the last minute she spent with her mother, weeping uncontrollably. Monica remembered calling her mother selfish, all because she rebuked her choice of business after graduating from one of the best schools in the country.

"I didn't raise you to become this. I didn't spend all that money on your education just for you to become an online perfume vendor," Monica had a flashback of their last conversation and screamed in regret.

She regretted every step she took from leaving home to changing her SIM card so that no one, especially her mother, would be able to reach her, and she even swore not to return home until she became successful with her choice of business.

Just a few weeks ago, Monica received a message from a childhood friend via social media about the deteriorating state of her mother's health, but she thought it was a trick to bring her home.

Mistura persuaded Monica to reach out to her mother after over a year since she left home, but she insisted it wasn't time yet. They were good friends from the university, and Monica couldn't think of anywhere else to stay except with Mistura, who took her in when she came seeking accommodation.

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"I should have listened and just traveled home," She stuttered, trying to stand on her feet again.

Monica reached for her purse immediately she stood and left the house. On her way out, she met Mistura, who was returning from a night shift at work.

"Why are you crying? What's wrong with you?" Mistura asked, keeping pace with Monica, who was walking like she was in a hurry somewhere.

"Did anything happen at home? Did Mike break up with you?" Mistura asked but got no response. They had trekked for about five minutes before she held Monica's hand with force.

She tried freeing herself, but Mistura's grip was too strong, so she stopped trying.

"My mom passed away last night, and I just got to know," Monica muttered and burst into tears again.

"I let her down when she needed me the most," her voice trembled, wiping her tears.

"I am so sorry, but how did you know this? Are you sure, this isn't a trick like you used to say?" Mistura asked, releasing Monica's hands.

"Lukman would never play such a trick on me," She replied and continued walking.

"So where are you going in pyjamas?" Mistura stuttered.

"Home! Where else would I go?" Monica wiped her tears again.

"By yourself? You are not in the right state of mind, and what if something happens to you on the road? Mistura tried convincing Monica to at least wear something different, but all her efforts were futile.

She had no choice but to follow because Monica doesn't look like someone who would go back home to change clothes.

They boarded a bus to the Eastern part of the country, and every effort to stop Monica from crying was futile. She wept bitterly, and other passengers in the bus got to know from Mistura that she had lost her mother.

"Why are you even crying? Are you even real because I warned you severally about going back home, but you didn't listen," Mistura was gradually losing her cool because Monica wouldn't stop crying.

It was a 9-hour trip, and the two didn't speak to each other throughout the journey. Mistura just followed Monica until they finally arrived at her mother's home, where family and friends had gathered to mourn.

Seeing those people was very unusual, and it was certain that her mother had passed on. With tears, Monica knelt before everyone, knowing very well that they were all mad at her.

"Look at this ingrate who calls herself a child. You should be ashamed of showing up now, and for what exactly?" Monica's uncle screamed at her.

Monica started apologizing, but no one listened to her. She asked where her mother's body was kept, but no one answered her.

Looking at the whole scenario, Mistura wished she had stayed back at home upon sensing the family's anger towards Monica.

"Did you even know that you were adopted?" Uncle Isaac asked Monica, who was wallowing in tears, still pleading for forgiveness.

Monica was shocked at the statement and stared at Uncle Isaac with surprise; it felt like she had been hit by an asteroid.

"My sister went against the whole family's advice just to take you in after she couldn't bear a child in her third marriage. Like I have seen today, I persuaded her not to, but she went ahead, cutting ties with many of us just to keep you," Uncle Isaac paused as his voice quivered.

"You were barely nine when you fell ill that year. She sold everything just to bring you back to life, and you couldn't even be by her side in her last moment. It was all she wanted. I hope you find forgiveness," He concluded and walked away from Monica, who was stunned by her discovery.

"This can't be true," Monica stuttered, thinking about how her mother treated her with so much love and care. She had no clue, and it just occurred to her why Mom kept her away from the family; she wanted to keep the adoption a secret from her daughter.

She rushed inside to see if her mother was there, but she wasn't. She wept uncontrollably, and Mistura tried comforting her as she became emotional too. She felt deeply sorry for her friend.

"I should have listened to you," Monica said regretfully, and Mistura couldn't find a word to console her anymore. She knelt with her friend by the empty bed and just hugged her.