A/N: Thank you so much for your patience. Now that I'm on a somewhat of writing schedule, I'll try to update as frequently as possible.

Characters: Rose, Ayo, Oyibo Okeke, Amina Cole, Isis, Weza, and T'Challa

Words: 1.9k

November 9, 2016
21:51
My chambers

Dear Diary,

The walls of my bedroom had started closing in on me because of my funk. I laid in bed for days mourning the relationship that could've been, clinging to the hope of things getting better.

The way Dakarai broke off our engagement hurt, not because of the loss, but the lack of respect. Like the coward he was, he didn't give me the common decency to do it in person. Just abandoned and ignored me for months before sending me that sorry card. I must admit though, my hand does feel lighter now it's no longer carrying a cheap three-carat ring, which is an insult considering how much money his family has.

After a few days of locking myself in my chambers, refusing meals and visitors, and playing Mary J. Blige on repeat, I decided to enjoy the fresh Wakandan air. Fortunately, it was time to restock on groceries, so I used the trip to the market as an excuse to leave the palace.

"Is that everything?" Ayo asked while I placed the bags of fruit into our wagon.

T'Challa insisted she accompanies me. Normally I would fuss about him treating me like a child incapable of handling myself, but I'll admit it's nice having someone to grocery shop with, especially when it comes to lugging the many bags.

"Not yet," I answered her. "I have to stop at the meat market to buy sirloin for tonight's supper and T'Challa's spicy sausages." I rolled my eyes playfully. "I've told that man a thousand times about eating those things, but he insists on putting himself in an early grave."

Ayo chuckled. "Sounds just like him."

I told her to go ahead and put the wagon in the van while I take the short walk to Kamau's Meat Market—the backbone of Wakandan society as T'Challa would say. A bell rang, signaling my arrival when I opened the door, and immediately smiled at the guy behind the counter.

Oyibo Okeke, a man that once wanted my heart. We only went on two dates, but they were enough for me to realize there wasn't a connection. He had been working at Kamau's since we were in secondary school, and I heard through market gossip that he was promoted to store manager.

"Rose," he greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too." I returned his smile with one of my own. "The usual please."

"Five pounds of sirloin and one pound of spicy sausage."

"Make it two. You know he'll want me to make another trip for more."

He chuckled. "On it. The goat meat is fresh today if you want any."

"I'll think about it."

"I'm going to cut these sausages for you. Be right back." He winked before walking to the back room.

I looked through the glass at the goat meat, not registering the bell ringing from another customer entering the shop. I didn't realize their presence until the voice, one I haven't heard in three years, addressed me.

"Rose? Rose, is that you?"

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned and put on a painted grin for Amina Cole. "Hi."

Amina was a palace housekeeper until she snatched the most eligible bachelor of the Mining Tribe. Word around the market was their marriage ended with a bitter divorce and her taking him for half of everything. Not surprised. Any fool could look at her and knew she was in it for the money.

"You're looking good Rose," she said. "Not as skinny as you used to be."

"A result of good cooking and squats," I returned with a smirk. "You've filled out nicely yourself. I should congratulate your doctor."

Amina raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "How have you been? Last I heard you were hauled off to a mental institution."'

"I'm surprised you were able to hear anything over the sounds of your ex-husband bleeding dry from your unnecessary shopping sprees."

"It was a nasty divorce, but some things just weren't meant to be, you know."

I bit back a comment while my eyes returned to the goat meat. It looked as fresh as Oyibo said, so I made a mental note to add two pounds to my order.

"I'm thinking about returning to the palace," Amina tried to get my attention.

"Really?" I suppressed an eye roll and pretended to care about whatever nonsense she was subjecting me to.

"It seems this has been a hard year for King T'Challa, and I think I should give him some comfort and appreciation."

I highly doubt he wants either from her.

"After all," she continued, "he works so hard keeping this country together while grieving his father. Bast bless his heart. He needs to know that his subjects care for him."

I tapped my foot impatiently, ready for Oyibo to finish my order.

"You do care, don't you Rose?"

"What?" I furrowed my brows at her, catching an underlining meaning behind her words.

"Oh, come on. I worked with you for five years. Do you really think I didn't catch how you used to steal glances at him when you thought no one was looking?"

"Here you are," Oyibo addressed me while handing over the bags with my order.

"Thank you. Can you add on two pounds of goat meat?"

"Sure."

I looked at my beads for the pay app, purposely avoiding eye contact with Amina while she ordered her items.

"I think it's cute you have a little crush on the king'" she continued. "I mean, who doesn't? But I think he wants a woman, that's more of...his speed, you know."

I looked down at the bags in my hands and turned to leave the shop.

"You're a beautiful woman, Rose." She had the audacity to grab my shoulder. "But maybe you should stick to cleaning kitchens. You seem so natural there."

"Is there a problem?" Ayo asked from behind me, saving Amina from an eye-scratching.

Amina released my shoulder and gave her a bright smile. "No problem, we were just catching up." She grabbed her bag from the register and gave us one last wave. "It was nice seeing you again."

The bell registered in my ears, yet it didn't silence the words that swirled in my mind.

"Rose?" Ayo brought me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Let's go home."

During the drive back, Amina's words replayed in my head. I couldn't figure out why they bothered me so much. Do I really care about the women T'Challa spends his time with? If so, why? He clearly doesn't feel that way about me, and even if he did, the council wouldn't let him marry me. No way they would approve of a housekeeper that set fire to the palace guest house before checking into a mental health center. Besides he's with Nakia. He claims they're just friends, but I know he carries a torch for her.

"We're here," Ayo pulled me out of my thoughts.

I got out of the van and grabbed the bags. The minute I walked into the kitchen, I saw a familiar figure bent over the counter, crunching on the container of Oreos next to them. I didn't have to ask who it was because I already knew.

"Isis, what are you doing here?"

She turned towards me with her brows knitted in confusion. "You're acting as if I'm not welcomed here."

"I didn't say you weren't, but is a call or something hard to do?"

Isis furrowed her brows. "What has your bragas (panties) in a bunch?"

"Nothing! I'm just annoyed right now."

"Well, don't take it out on me. I didn't do it."

"Whatever." I turned my back towards her to put T'Challa's sausages in the fridge along with the other groceries.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" I snapped, annoyed with her presence and dumb questions.

"If this is about him, let me just say-"

I slammed the fridge door and glared at her. "If I were you, I would never mention that man in my presence."

"Or you'll what?" She raised a brow, but I pushed past her to get a skillet from the lower cupboards. "No. I want to know. Look, I'm pregnant right now, but if you want to settle this in a few months, I'll have my vaseline and combat boots ready."

"Ladies," Ayo tried quelling the tension in the kitchen.

"Where's my favorite skillet? It's not in this cupboard where I left it."

"I don't know," Isis answered.

With an annoyed huff, I stood up and walked towards the entrance door. "Weza!"

She entered immediately, which told me she was nearby listening to our conversation. "Yes, Rose?"

"Did you move my skillet?"

"I don't...think so."

I rolled my eyes. "Why are you even touching my things?!"

She blinked. "I don't understand."

"I didn't expect you to." I walked back over to the cupboards to look for the skillet. "I forget you're still a child."

"Hey!" Isis intervened. "That was uncalled for!"

"Well, it's true!" I fired back.

"You don't have to yell at her just because you're upset about that man breaking off your engagement."

I grabbed the closest thing to me and threw it at her. I later found out it was a wooden spoon to which I was relieved, considering her condition. It means she barely bruised if the spoon bothered to touch her. I was too busy seeing red to know whether she dodged it or not. "I told you not to bring him up!"

"That's what this is about, isn't it?! You're angry at him, and instead of beating the daylights out of him like you should, you're taking it out on us!"

"No! I'm upset because Weza doesn't respect me enough to not move my things."

"But I do respect you," Weza tried pleading her case, but she was drowned out by Isis.

"You're not gonna get any respect with this bloque de hielo (ice block) on your shoulder."

"What is going on in here?" I heard T'Challa's voice, but I kept my glare fixed on Isis.

"Well, maybe you wouldn't worry about it so much if you were at your palace instead."

She nodded. "You know what, you don't have to worry about me coming around here unannounced anymore."

Before anyone could stop her, she was gone, and I refused to drop my pride to go after her.

"Rose?" T'Challa placed a hand on my shoulder, but I pushed him away.

"Leave me alone! I don't need you or anybody else. I can handle this all on my own, just like I do everything else." I left without another word.

That was several hours ago, and I've been locked in my room since. My heart is filled with regret and embarrassment that I dreaded the thought of facing them. No one came to check on me, and in hindsight, I wouldn't either.

I don't know what came over me. I've never treated my friends like that before.

I can't believe I let her ruin my entire day, filling my head was such nonsense.

She's an idiot, among other colorful words, and doesn't know what she's talking about.

Then again, maybe I'm not as over the breakup as I thought I was. I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt, but I can't cry over this. He doesn't deserve anymore of my tears.

Maybe if I focus on the positives, things could get better.

Maybe.

This text was generated with the help of Writier a sentence completion technology powered by artificial intelligence therefore it may be automatically generated biases and contain errors. Writier is not responsible for any content that may be directly or indirectly implied as the result of document's content.