Dear Eva – Episode 8
The next morning, I walked into the hotel with my shoulders squared and my heart guarded. There was no room for Stan—or Tobe, as I now knew him. No room for pity, no room for distraction. I had dreams too big to be derailed by deception.
Kingsley hadn't shown up yet, and I was grateful for that. I needed time to think, to put things into perspective. But fate, as always, had a sense of humor.
"Eva, you're needed in the conference room," the HR officer, Mrs. Ijeoma, said with a tight smile.
I blinked. "Is something wrong?"
She simply shrugged. "Better to hear it directly."
With cautious steps, I walked in, and to my surprise, Kingsley was seated at the head of the table—looking calmer than I expected, a few top management staff beside him, and to the far left… Stan.
"Have a seat, Eva," Kingsley said, gesturing toward the chair opposite him.
The air was stiff. Something was off.
I sat, crossing my legs and keeping my expression neutral.
"We've been reviewing some internal matters," Kingsley began. "There have been allegations of misconduct."
I swallowed. "What kind of misconduct?"
He looked at me for a long time before speaking again. "Fraternization during working hours. Misuse of hotel assets. Disruption of workplace hierarchy."
I turned to look at Stan, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Are you implying I…?"
"Not implying. As of this morning, you're suspended for two weeks pending further investigation."
It was a punch to the chest.
"Suspended? For what exactly? For being manipulated by a man you brought into my workspace?" I snapped.
He kept his composure. "You were warned, Eva. You crossed a line."
"This is personal, Kingsley. It has nothing to do with work."
"Everything affects work when you're working in a delicate environment like this."
Stan shifted in his seat. "She didn't misuse anything—"
"You don't speak here, Stan," Kingsley interrupted, slamming the table. "You've done enough."
I stood, the chair scraping backward. "You wanted to punish me because I chose not to love you. That's what this is about."
"Don't flatter yourself," he said coldly. "This is business."
Business. That word again.
I grabbed my bag and left the room with tears stinging my eyes, but none of them fell. Not this time. I wouldn't cry over another betrayal. I had cried enough.
---
The days that followed were lonely.
But I needed them.
I poured myself into my writing again. Back to the diary that started it all. I titled my new entry: "Dear Eva, love yourself first."
Every morning I ran, every night I prayed. I dug deep to find that version of myself I had forgotten—the girl who once dreamt of running her own hotel, not just being the receptionist in one.
Stan called. I never answered. He texted. I never replied. But one evening, I found myself reading one of his messages:
> *"Dear Eva, I know you may never forgive me. But I didn't come into your life to break you. I came to be saved myself, but I lost sight of that when I saw how pure you were.
Yes, Kingsley sent me. But the man I became around you was real. I didn't mean for it to happen this way. If you can find it in your heart to listen, I owe you the whole truth.
Forever sorry, Tobe"*
I deleted the message.
Not because I wasn't hurt. But because I was choosing peace.
Then, out of nowhere, a call changed everything.
"Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Miss Eva Chidubem?" a woman asked, sounding formal.
"Yes."
"This is Mrs. Uche from Eden Hill Ventures. One of our board members read your blog anonymously and recommended you for our youth women in hospitality mentorship program. Would you be interested in meeting with us to discuss your goals?"
I blinked, stunned. "You read my blog?"
"Yes. 'Dear Eva'—beautifully written. Real. Honest. You're exactly the kind of young woman we want to support. Can you come in for a meeting this Friday?"
My heart beat wildly. "Yes! I'll be there. Thank you so much!"
---
On Friday, I dressed in a soft beige gown that hugged my figure modestly, paired it with low heels, and put on light makeup—the kind that made me look like me, just clearer.
Eden Hill Ventures was located in a tall, blue-glassed building in Victoria Island. The office smelled of lavender and ambition.
Mrs. Uche was graceful and sharp-eyed. "We don't just want to mentor you, Eva. We want to invest in your idea. A boutique hotel with a creative, soul-driven touch? We're in."
I nearly fainted.
"But," she added, "we'll need you to do the legwork. Build a business plan. Show us a feasible projection. Think brand identity, staffing, location, and customer experience. Can you deliver that in 30 days?"
I nodded so hard my neck hurt. "Absolutely. I will."
As I stepped out of the building, the Lagos sun never felt warmer.
This was the new beginning.
---
Back home, I pulled out an old notebook—the one I wrote in before Stan, before Kingsley, before the betrayal—and scribbled my first blueprint.
Name: The Eva Experience
Concept: Boutique hotel for healing, heart, and home
Tagline: "Where your soul checks in."
And underneath it, I wrote:
> Dear Eva, You did it. The world tried to shake you, but you kept standing. This is just the beginning.
As I wrote, a notification popped up on my phone. An email.
Subject: RE: Appeal for Suspension Review
I clicked it open.
> *Dear Eva,
After a reassessment and internal review, the committee has decided to lift your suspension. You may return to work on Monday. We hope to move forward amicably and with clarity.
Regards, Management.*
I stared at the screen.
And slowly, I smiled.
Not because I needed that job anymore.
But because I now had the power to choose.
To be continued…
#DearEva #Episode8 #RisingFromTheAshes