“You will end this.”
“No.”
The word was quiet, but it changed everything.
“If you continue down this path,” his father said, “there will be consequences.”
“I know.”
“You will lose everything.”
Okafor did not look away.
“Then I lose everything.”
His mother whispered, “You’re making a mistake.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But it is mine to make.”
The next morning, his father came to his room alone.
“If you walk out today,” he said, “you will lose access to every account. You will no longer represent this family. You will no longer carry this name in any meaningful way.”
Then he added, colder than before, “You will no longer be my son.”
For a brief second, pain crossed Okafor’s face.
Then he picked up a small bag.
“I’ll go.”
His father stared at him. “You would throw away everything for a waitress?”
“I’m not throwing everything away,” Okafor said. “I’m choosing something better.”
He left the mansion that day with no driver, no security, no money from his family, and no safety net.
When he found Ada after her shift, she knew from his face that something had happened.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I left.”
Her eyes widened. “You what?”
“They gave me a choice. I chose you.”
Ada shook her head, panic rising. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I wanted to.”
“You had everything.”
“I have you.”
“That’s not enough,” she whispered.
“It is to me.”
She looked at him for a long time, tears in her eyes.
“You’re a fool.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“And you’ve made my life more complicated.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t even know if this will work.”
