A History of Almosts 

by 

Uche Obiageli Nathson

When Ejiro asked Alero if she would be able to make it for their monthly hangout or not, Alero almost declined but she didn’t want to be the first person in their 20-year-long friendship to skip out on their hangout. 

“I'll be late, but I'll definitely be there,” Alero replied.

Alero's thumb hovered over the end button as she was about to send a voice message when Ejiro’s call came in. The voice message was barely fifteen seconds long - simple, and stupidly terrifying.

“You know, if I were braver, I’d tell you something crazy right now.”

A small laugh. An awkward pause. A sigh.

“Forget it.” She ended the recording and it went to the drafts. Again.

This had become a habit, this ridiculous cycle of almost-sending, almost-saying. The draft were full of messages to Ovie, all unsent, all whispering around the truth she was too much of a coward to say to the person who knew her better than anyone else, yet not at all.

She locked her phone, tossed it onto the couch, and groaned into her palms. Will she ever get over this?She knew she wouldn’t. Not tonight. Not ever.

      ​              ​​​​​*

The day Alero got the call that completely ruined her life in JSS3B, Ovie was the first to reach her, lifting her up and rushing her to the sick bay, the others trailing behind. Before then, she had always seen him as just another friend in their group, but something shifted that day. The way he looked at her, the care in his actions, how he rallied around during the funeral service of her parents, never leaving her side for a second, stirred something deep inside her. His eyes, she thought, were like an ocean she couldn’t pull herself out of, and for almost twenty years, she found herself quietly falling deeper into that current. 

To anyone else, it might’ve looked like obsession, but for her, it was just a quiet longing. She never could find the courage to tell him how she felt, and she couldn’t even explain why. Her life somehow froze in that moment, stuck in JSS 3B, always waiting for the attention of someone who might never even realize it was there.

The group met up as they always did, once a month- Alero, Ovie, Layefa, Onos, Ejiro and Tega. Some casual evening hangout at One-Side Bar to catch up since work has taken up most of their time. 

Back in secondary school, what started as random seating arrangement quickly grew into a bond that felt like it had always been there. They became more than just friends, they were a clan, tight-knit and inseparable for twenty years. Despite everything that changed around them, they remained a constant in each other's lives.

Onos gently pulled Alero back into the present, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced around, catching sight of Ovie leaning forward, arms stretched over the table, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark. She could see that they had knocked off some Flying Fish bottles and were laughing hysterically at something Ovie said. 

“You know, you’re my favorite person.”

Her heart stumbled. What were they talking about? 

She forced a smile. “Obviously.”

“I’m serious.”

“You people should leave Alero. You know she doesn’t say much. Shy babe.”

Alero let off a timid smile and recoiled into her seat. He laughed and continued talking -rambling about his work, recounting a date he had the week before, touching on everything and nothing at once. 

“I think I like this one. I swear”

Layefa smirked. “Abeg! Abeg! You will like now and small time, this one will ghost you like the others. Na you know wetin you dey do them” The group laughed, all too familiar with the cycle. 

Alero let his words wash over her. Who is this person? When did this one start? Alero wondered. This should be girl number what? When will this end? He should see her. If she wasn’t going to say anything now, maybe it was time to open her heart to someone else. After all, she was 35. 

But that quiet, constant pull... it never seemed to fade. It lingered just beneath the surface, always there, like a pressure building up, threatening to spill over. It was as if it had woven itself into the very fabric of who she was, never fully letting her move on, always holding her in place.

“Alero, you should leave that job. Look at you, constantly stressed, tired, barely eating.”

“I worry about your health. If you die now, that company will replace you immediately, you know?”

Alero smiled and nodded, the same thing every month. They’d try to convince her to quit, she’d agree with them, but nothing ever changed. She never left.

When they parted ways, he hugged her tight like he always did, and she inhaled the scent of him, let herself pretend for a few seconds that this was something more.

She started the car, sat in the silence for a moment, then picked up her phone.

Hit record.

“Ovie, I wish you knew.”

“I wish I could say it without ruining everything. I wish….”

A beat. A shaky laugh.

“Never mind. Drive safe, idiot. Love y…..”

She stopped herself. Saved it and threw it to the passenger seat. She would never send it. 

                    ​​​​​​*

Alero stared at her phone. The folder of the saved voice messages to Ovie taunted her, like an old friend who knew exactly how to push her buttons. She had crafted it carefully, every word deliberate, every pause measured. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to send it. It felt like exposing a piece of her soul to him; vulnerable, raw. And what if he didn’t feel the same? 

A sharp, sudden movement from the back of the car knocked her off balance. The boot of her car, where she’d tucked something – someone - away, rattled violently. 

Without thinking, she threw open the boot, and in that instant, her eyes locked with Ufuoma's - Ovie’s potential fling. The woman was groggy, disoriented, her eyes wide with shock. Before Ufuoma could react, Alero’s hand flew to her, a swift blow to the side of her head rendering her unconscious. The car was still, except for the rhythmic thrum of Alero’s heart as it tried to catch up to her rapid breath. 

The store in her parents’ old house reeked of stale dust and lingering sweat, the air thick with neglect. But Alero didn’t care. She had other things to focus on, things that kept her grounded - barely. 

She dragged Ufuoma’s limp body across the floor, the harsh light above casting jagged shadows that danced along the walls. She propped Ufuoma up against the wall. Her eyes were shut but you could see the fear etched in every line of her face. In the corner, five other frail bodies huddled together, their mouths gagged, their bodies withered from the constant stillness. One of them was close to the end, Alero could feel it. She did feed them once a day. She is benevolent enough. She thought. How much is her salary? She is really trying, taking care of all these women. 

Locking the door behind her, Alero walked to the sink and scrubbed her hands. “Ovie, I wish you knew.” She had recorded the message more times than she cared to count, each time her heart spilling out only to be pulled back at the last second.

A deep sigh escaped her lips. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. But did it even matter anymore? Maybe this was what she needed to do. Maybe, just maybe, Ovie would see her. Really see her, if he could just stop seeing these women.

She began recording, her voice quiet, almost like a confession.

“Ovie, I don’t know why I do this. I guess because it’s easier than actually saying it.”

“I wish you knew. I wish I could say it without ruining everything.”

Her thumb hit the record button again, and her voice came out more controlled this time, but just as raw.

“You’re my favorite person too.”

She stopped, looking at the door, her gaze falling on the figures she had locked away in her self-made prison. She never wanted to go this far, but every time she reached the edge of honesty, he would move on. Always moved past her.

She couldn’t do it anymore.

The phone screen reflected her face back at her, hollow eyes, lips pressed into a thin line, fingers tight around the device like it was the only thing tethering her to any kind of reality. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, her voice quivering, though she did her best to make it steady. “It’s just a matter of time before I get you to see me”.

THE END 

Author’s Note:

Thanks for reading! I know this isn’t your usual love story, but hey, you should know I’m a dark merchant by now.

Please, share these with your friends, like and drop a comment. And to all the singles out there, “sorrows, sorrows, prayers” 

Happy Valentine’s Day.