Within months, projects rolled out.
Joint investments.
Shared logistics.
Youth tech hubs.
Agro-processing plants.
People started whispering again—but this time, with hope.
"Ekiti is changing."
"Two giants, one vision."
And somewhere in the middle of it all—
Akanni came home to Mira.
Demi went home to Bukky.
No comparisons.
No rivalry.
Just after him… and after war… came purpose.
Bukky was six months gone when she came.
Her belly came before her now—round, proud, beautiful. Pregnancy sat well on her, like joy finally found where to rest. She walked slowly, one hand always on her stomach, the other held by Demi.
Mira noticed first.
She stood up instinctively.
"Bukky."
The name came out soft.
Bukky smiled. A real smile. Not forced. Not polite.
"Mira," she replied.
For a moment, there was silence. Not the awkward kind. The kind that carries history.
Then Bukky stepped forward and pulled Mira into a hug.
"Congratulations," Bukky whispered.
"You deserve him."
Mira swallowed hard.
"Thank you," she said. "And… you look amazing."
Bukky laughed lightly. "This baby no dey joke. Kicks like footballer."
Demi chuckled. Akanni watched quietly, arms folded, eyes thoughtful.
Two women.
One past.
One present.
No bitterness left.
Later, when they sat together with drinks, Bukky touched Mira's ring.
"So all this while," Bukky said teasingly, "na you dey hold him steady?"
Mira smiled. "Somebody had to."
Bukky nodded slowly. "I see it now."
She leaned back. "Funny thing is… I don't feel pain anymore. I feel settled."
Mira reached for her hand. "That's peace."
Bukky squeezed it. "Yes. Peace."