The One Who Holds Me (Sovereign Love #4)

38. Alex

38

ALEX

THEN

M y trip back to the U.S. was a lot longer than I wanted it to be. By the time we landed in New York, I had given up. Nothing made sense, and I didn’t see the point of pretending like my life was going to be okay when it was a big, shambled mess. After narrating the story to Mom and Dad, they tried their best to comfort me, but all I wanted to do was hide away in my room and never come out again.

I spent the rest of the fall break mostly in bed and when I got out, I was moping around the house and trying to find different excuses to give Mom and Dad for not wanting to eat. Day and night blurred into one. I was confused, disoriented, and forgot how to pray. Nothing made sense, but instead of fighting to find meaning, I let the darkness consume me.

When I got back to college, even Kwame couldn’t get me to talk about how I was feeling. I couldn’t form the words because my life didn’t feel like my own. I didn’t know who I was or what the point of anything was.

“Come on, man. You have to stop this.” Kwame places his snapback hat on my desk with a sigh. He showed up at my apartment after I missed three calls from him earlier this morning. “You’ve been moping around like this since you got back. You won’t talk to anyone about it, not your parents, not me, and not even Olanna. She called me this morning crying because you haven’t reached out to her since you got back. She thinks you’re mad at her for not responding to your text messages while you were in Ghana. You’re destroying all the relationships around you, man. You have to do something about it.”

“What can I do?” I lift my head to look at him. “Tell me, what can I do to change the fact that the woman who brought me into this world looked into my eyes and told me she preferred I had not existed at all?”

“Bro, her opinion doesn’t matter,” Kwame interjects. “Since when did your life’s worth start depending on a woman you barely know? Would you have felt this way if you had never found out you were adopted? Maybe this is the reason your parents didn’t want to tell you.”

“Well, the truth is out there now, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Bro, stop it. Look at what this is doing to you. Look at the way you’re treating Olanna and your parents who have sacrificed so much for you. You’re acting as if you’re in this alone. Why are you choosing to inflict pain on yourself when there are so many people around you who love and support you?”

“Bro, I appreciate the concern, but please I need some time alone.”

“Alex, are you sure? You haven’t?—”

“Please, bro.” I cut him so short, so he sighs and picks up his snapback hat again.

“Okay, then. Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me. I’ll be praying for you, brother.” He taps my shoulder and leaves the apartment, closing the door behind him.

I stay at my desk, head in my hands, alone, and ignoring the silent notifications popping off on my phone. When I’m about to return to my bed, the doorbell rings and I let out a sigh before walking to it and opening the door without checking the peephole.

“Kwame, I told you, I need some time alo—” My voice trails off as my gaze lands on her, the sight of her teary eyes ripping out pieces of my heart.

“So you can only open the door when you think it’s someone else?” Olanna’s voice breaks and without waiting for an answer, she lets herself in and places her backpack on the couch in the living room.

Wiping the tears underneath her eyes, she turns around to face me as I shut the door. “Didn’t you promise you’d tell me everything when you come back from Portland? I’m not leaving until you explain.”

I lower my head and rub my forehead. “Olanna, you don’t understand.”

“That’s all you keep saying and I’m sick of it.” She raises her voice. “Alex, I’m asking now and I won’t ask again. What is going on with you?”

I remain silent, not because I don’t want to answer her questions, but because I don’t know where to start. Olanna takes a few steps toward me, tears streaming down her face now. She touches my chin and lifts my head so I can look at her.

“Alex, please,” she whispers. “Talk to me.”

My heart breaks as I stare into her eyes. I want to tell her everything, but she doesn’t deserve these broken parts of me. I’m lost and I don’t know what to do to help myself. She deserves someone who is not a liar and someone who won’t make her cry. “I’m sorry, Olanna. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“No.” She shakes her head and takes my hand in hers. “No, you can’t do that. I won’t let you. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m not the same guy you fell in love with. My whole life is a lie. I don’t know who I am anymore and I don’t deserve you.” I shake my head at her, but she refuses to let go of my hand.

“Baby, what are you talking about? What do you mean you don’t know who you are? What happened?”

“It’s better if you don’t know the details.”

She groans and rubs her face with her free palm. “What makes you think you alone can decide what’s best for us? You can’t just break up with me without telling me what happened. This is so cruel.” She brings her hand up to my chest, then my neck, and finally, she holds my face and stares into my eyes.

I squeeze her hands and plant a kiss on them. “I’m sorry, Olanna. I can’t give you what you want. I can’t be who you want me to be.”

With those words, she steps back, lets go of my hand, and picks up her backpack. She wipes her tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and exhales before saying, “Alex, I'm tired. Tired of praying and waiting on the sidelines for you to come around. I’m tired of waiting for you to see that I’m trying to help. That we’re all trying to help you. If you let me walk out the door today, I’ll be walking out of your life for good. I can’t keep waiting around for you to come to your senses. If you let me leave today without an explanation, I’m never coming back.”

Just like my parents, just like Kwame, Olanna waits for an answer from me and when it doesn’t come, she turns her back and marches out of the room, slamming the door behind her as she leaves. I stand there for a few minutes watching the door, hoping maybe she’ll come back and I’ll get the courage to face my fears, to reopen my wounds and lay out my vulnerabilities.

But true to her word, Olanna doesn’t come back, so I return to my bed, laying my head down and letting the silence and dark thoughts once again become my companion.