Chapter 5: A New Beginning
I decided it was time to make a decision for myself and Jasmine. First, I submitted my resignation to my dad, the company owner. He was surprised, but my mind was made up. I began searching for a country to move to, seeking a fresh start. My agent suggested Italy, and although I was hesitant, I knew I had to do it.
I purchased a house—a new space for my fashion business—and sold my Nigerian property. Preparations began. I bought plane tickets for Jasmine, her nanny, and myself. Since Mimi had no family, she was obligated to come with us. I informed my parents, but they initially refused to let me go. "Daisy, why are you so determined to leave?" Dad asked. "I want a new beginning," I explained. "I'm not comfortable here, and I don't want my daughter to be hurt anymore." Finally, he relented, saying, "If you insist, then you have my blessing."
I told Jasmine, "Mummy, where are we moving to?" "Italy!" I exclaimed. "We're moving to Italy!" "Why?" she asked. "I want to make you happy," I replied. "Okay, Mummy," she said, "if you say so!"
We started packing—luggage, household items, everything was neatly packed. It was a very emotional time for my parents and me. I had never been so far from them. My mother cried, repeatedly hugging Jasmine. At the airport, her tears continued, and I patted her comfortingly as we boarded the plane. I didn't realize I was crying too, until I waved goodbye to my parents and we took off. Memories of my life in Nigeria flooded back—primary school, secondary school, university, and the painful betrayal by Sandra. It was still a fresh wound. I managed a painful smile and turned to Jasmine, who was engrossed in her video games.
We landed in Italy in the afternoon. "Mummy!" Jasmine squealed happily. "This is so beautiful! Where are we eating lunch?" "Let's go home first, Jasmine," I said. She pouted.
Our new house was a bungalow, not extravagant. Mimi and I began cleaning and organizing while Jasmine played games. After a full day of settling in, we'd covered half the work. We had dinner, I put Jasmine to sleep, and then I started thinking about my fashion business. I called the designer to check on the progress. He'd finished the designs, sent them to me, and they were exactly to my taste. As I lay in bed, a strange lightness filled me. The decision still felt heavy, a lead weight in my gut, but the gnawing anxiety had vanished.
The next day, I took Jasmine and Mimi to the fashion home. "Jasmine, this is Mummy's new office! What do you think?" "This is very beautiful, Mummy!" she exclaimed. "Wow, this is perfect, Madam," Mimi added. "Thank you, Mimi!"
Later, I enrolled Jasmine in her new school and paid the fees. We stopped for ice cream and meat pies. "Mummy!" Jasmine said between bites, "You made the right decision coming to Italy! Everywhere is so peaceful!" I smiled and shook my head. This girl is my ancestor reincarnated! "If you say so, my dear!"
The following week, my new routine began. I woke up, said my prayers, showered, got dressed, and we had morning devotions before taking Jasmine to school. Mimi and I worked at the fashion home. I didn't want Mimi to be idle at home and also I made the clothes myself. The customers loved them, both online and in the store. I ensured customer satisfaction and addressed any complaints. After three months, my store had expanded beyond my expectations! I kept my parents updated on everything.
One of my regular customers was a man named Jayden. He initially mistook me for an Italian woman. "Ciao," he said, "Vorrei comprare abiti da uomo" (I want to buy men's clothing). I replied, "Quale preferisci?" (Which one do you prefer?). He selected three items. "Per favore, impacchetta questi per me" (Please pack these for me), he requested. I packed them, he paid, and I said "Grazie" (Thank you). When I gave him the receipt, he saw my name—Daisy Williams—and realized I was Nigerian. "Excuse me, are you Nigerian?" he asked. "Yes, I am!" I replied. "Wow, you speak Italian so fluently!" "Thank you," I responded.
From then on, he often tried to converse with me, but I avoided giving him much opportunity. He persisted until I gave him my contact information. He called every day. We slowly became friends, but I never told him about my personal life or Jasmine. He took me on outings, to fashion shows, on dates, etc. I felt overwhelmed, but the thought of Jasmine always made me uneasy. After five months, Jayden asked me out, and I agreed. There was no harm in trying again; maybe he would accept Jasmine. We began dating, and I must confess, Jayden is a truly gentle man.
It was Jasmine's eighth birthday. I threw her a surprise party, taking her to an anime character event, her favorite. After a tiring day, Jasmine said, "Mummy, I made a wish!" "A wish?" I asked. "Yes!" she replied. "I wished for you to be happy!" I was overwhelmed, tears falling from my eyes. "Thank you, my baby! Mummy loves you so much." "I love you too, Mummy!"
A few days later, Jayden asked me to meet his parents. He gave me the address, and I chose Saturday, wanting to take Jasmine with me. If he was willing to accept her, that was fine, but if not, I would end the relationship. I dressed Jasmine and took her along. She kept asking questions: "Mummy, where are we going?" "Somewhere, but it's a secret!"
We arrived at the house—or rather, mansion. Jayden's family had impeccable taste, I thought. We received a warm welcome, but Jayden's mother looked familiar, and she kept staring at Jasmine. Suddenly, Jayden came downstairs with his older brother, who turned out to be my worst nightmare—Adeoti.
"Adeoti!" I screamed. "Daisy!" he exclaimed. "Bro, do you know her?" Jayden asked. "Yes," Adeoti replied, "she was my girlfriend from school. I told you about her." "Daisy, who is this little girl?" Jayden asked. "She's my daughter, Jasmine Williams." "You have a daughter? You're a single mother?" "Yes, I am!" I replied.
"Is she my daughter?" Adeoti asked. I took a deep breath, tears threatening to fall. "Yes," I said, "this is the living proof of what you did to me." "Jayden," I continued, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm ending this relationship. It can't work anymore! Please don't call me, and neither should you, Adeoti!" "Jasmine, let's go." She followed me, her gaze fixed on Adeoti.
In the car, I began to cry. Jasmine asked, "Is that my daddy?" "Yes, he is your daddy," I replied, crying. We drove home in silence. That night was a rollercoaster of emotions for me and Jasmine. I cried, while Jasmine tried to comfort me. "Mummy, I'm sorry!" she said. "It's not your fault, my dear!" She hugged me tightly. I was confused about what to do next.
Should I forgive or not?
TBC
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