Keywords: Once Upon A Forever, Prologue, Free Web Novel, Nigerian Story, Reincarnation, Doomed Love, Fated Love, Slice of Life.
Tyrie
Tyrie braced his hand on the railing, jaw clenched to suppress the sting of Lara’s knee. Through the haze of pain, his eyes followed her as she ran around the corner and disappeared from sight.
“Bitch,” he spat.
“Your father doted on her,” Uncle Femi said.
Tyrie hadn’t noticed him step out and almost missed the words.
He straightened slowly, pretending the pain had already faded.
“As a dog owner should,” Tyrie said, flat.
“He didn’t treat her like a dog,” Uncle Femi said quietly. “You know that.”
Tyrie’s jaw tightened. His groin still throbbed, and the man in front of him didn’t help. He had the same pointed nose and almond eyes as his father, though his frame was shorter and rounder, belly heavy with age — and still, he was on Lara’s side.
“I don’t know anything,” Tyrie said flatly. “Except that she belonged to him. And now that he’s dead, she belongs to me.”
“She just ran away.”
“To where?” Tyrie sneered. “Her whore friend’s house? Where can she run, Uncle?”
Uncle Femi placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tyrie, don’t dishonour your father’s memory by targeting someone he protected while he was alive.”
Tyrie smiled bitterly. “Maybe if he had protected me as well, I wouldn’t feel the need to target her now that he’s gone.”
“Tyrie—”
“What?” Tyrie snapped.
His uncle stopped, holding his tongue.
“Your father loved you,” Uncle Femi said.
Tyrie’s eyes narrowed, warning him he was stepping into dangerous territory.
“He left you his legacy without room for contest,” his uncle continued.
“Because carrying on his legacy was my purpose,” Tyrie said.
Uncle Femi sighed.
“He asked you to let Lara leave and said he had forgiven her debt, he never even kept a book for it, because it never existed.” he tried changing tack.
“He made his son sit on a throne of bullets, and let his pet walk out free, untouched,” Tyrie scuffed.
Uncle Femi sighed again.
“What was so special about her?” Tyrie asked, fishing another cigarette from his pocket.
Uncle Femi opened his mouth to speak, but caught the words before they slipped out.
“He never missed a parent–teacher conference for her, and she was always last or second to last in class,” Tyrie spat. He inhaled a sharp breath and turned his head to the sky; the first stars were coming out.
“‘Sweetheart, it’s fine. I understand. Books aren’t for everyone. Since you like fighting so much, why not fight for me in the ring? Your earnings can clear your father’s debt faster. I’ll start a female category for you,’” Tyrie said, soft and indulgent like but still a mockery of his father’s voice.
“He called her ‘sweetheart’. He patted her head. He loved her.” He turned back to his uncle. “I slept in the doghouse for days because I got a C in maths!”
Tyrie lit his cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled the smoke into his uncle’s face with a menacing smile.
“I will break her.”
Uncle Femi sighed, giving up on reasoning with Tyrie,
“At least let her grieve first,” his uncle pleaded. “The girl has had it rough. She just lost the only parent she had.”
“Parent?” Tyrie repeated.
“Parent figure,” his uncle corrected.