The first thing that Deborah noticed was the silence in the room.
And it wasnt just normal silence, but the kind , that was uncomfortable, that enters a room before trouble finally speaks, the small plastic table in front of her still had two untouched bottles of malt and one plate of pepper soup slowly getting cold.
Bimpe sat across from her with folded arms while Chike leaned back in his chair, pressing his phone like the answer to his problems was hiding inside it.
“You are not saying anything,” Bimpe finally said.
Chike sighed, “Because I am tired of repeating myself.”
Deborah looked from one face to the other “Abeg, what exactly happened? Both of you were laughing on the phone yesterday.”
Bimpe scoffed, “That was before I discovered that Mr Honest Man here has been lying.”
Chike dropped his phone immediately. “Lying ke? Bimpe do not start this thing again.”
“Again?” she replied sharply, “so you know there is something to start eee?”
Deborah quietly adjusted herself in her chair, she already regretted to agreeing to meet them after work.
The waiter passed by and asked if they needed anything else.
“Yes,” Bimpe said without taking her eyes off Chike, “A receipt for emotional damages.”
Even Deborah laughed at that one.
But Chike didn’t.
“See,” he said calmly, “I already explained everything to you.”
“No, you explained the version that favored you.”
“What are you even talking about exactly?” Deborah asked carefully.
Bimpe reached into her handbag dramatically and pulled out a folded receipt.
“I am talking about this.”
Chike closed his eyes immediately, "Oh God.”
Deborah blinked, “Receipt?”
“Yes, receipt” Bimpe opened it like evidence in court, “Mr Chike told me he was broke last weekend, told me work had been stressful and money was tight, meanwhile this man was in a lounge buying drinks worth eighty five thousand naira.”
Deborah almost choked, “Eighty-five what?”
Chike rubbed his forehead, “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then how was it?” Bimpe fired back.
“Guy’s night out,” he muttered.
Bimpe laughed loudly, “Guy’s night out? Chike you told me you couldn’t even contribute money for my birthday dinner because things were hard.”
Deborah slowly leaned back, Ah, So that was the issue.
Now it made sense.
“Wait,” Deborah said, trying not to smile, “how did you even get the receipt?”
Bimpe pointed at Chike, “His mistake.”
Chike shook his head, “Honestly, this is why men keep things to themselves.”
“No,” Bimpe replied immediately, “this is why women investigate.”
Deborah burst out laughing.
Even Chike smiled a little despite himself.
The truth was, the whole thing sounded funny from the outside, but Bimpe was genuinely hurt, It was not even about the money anymore, It was the fact that Chike made her feel like she was asking for too much, when he himself clearly had money to spend elsewhere.
“I would have understood if you just told me you did not want to spend,” she said more quietly now, “But why did you now lie?”
That question sat heavily on the table.
Chike finally looked up, “Because sometimes I just want space to enjoy things without feeling guilty.”
Bimpe frowned, “Guilty?”
“Yes” He sighed deeply “every time I spend on myself, I start calculating who else I could have helped with that money, family, friends, responsibilities, it just never ends.”
Deborah nodded slowly, that part, she understood.
Nigeria had a way of making one person carry ten people financially.
“But still,” Bimpe said softly, “you should not have lied.”
“I know,” Chike admitted, “that was wrong.”
Silence settled again, but this time it was not hostile.
It was just heavy.
Outside the buka,
A bus conductor shouted for passengers heading to Yaba, while loud Afrobeats played from the shop nearby.
Life continued normally while three adults sat around one small receipt like it was a court document.
Deborah shook her head, “You know the funny thing? This small paper caused all this problem.”
“It’s not the receipt,” Bimpe replied, “It is what came with it.”
Chike nodded slowly, “Trust.”
For a moment nobody spoke.
Then Deborah suddenly smiled “But wait o… eighty five thousand? Chike what exactly were you people drinking? Liquid gold?”
That broke the tension immediately.
Even Bimpe laughed despite herself.
“See ehn,” Chike said, raising his hands defensively, “prices in Lagos are not smiling.”
“Neither is Bimpe,” Deborah replied.
“Omo, at all,” Chike muttered.
Bimpe then shook her head but the anger in her face had already softened
“see next time,” she said, pointing at him, “don’t lie, even if the truth sounds bad.”
“I hear you,” Chike replied.
Deborah raised her bottle of malt “ To honesty.”
“To honesty,” Bimpe repeated.
Chike hesitated for one second before raising his own bottle too.
“And to avoiding receipts.”
That one made all of them laugh again.
Because sometimes in life, it is not even the big betrayals that expose problems, sometimes, it is one small receipt folded carelessly inside a pocket that tells the whole story.
[image Generated with Chatgpt]
