Behind His Smiles, He Was Hurting Too

ABOUT US - Episode 5

There was something about the way he smiled that morning that made me pause. It wasn’t like the usual bright, unbothered Olamide. It was warm, yes. Soft, yes. But behind his eyes, I caught a flicker of something. Tears maybe. Something tired. Something heavy. I should have asked more. I should have pressed.

When I think about it now, maybe I didn’t want to ruin the moment. He had shown up at my apartment with two food flasks tucked under one arm and a small bag of groceries in the other. No warning. No texts. Just... Olamide.

"I’m keeping you company this week,” he said simply, stepping inside and kissing my forehead. At that time, I had just started working remotely for a big project at work, buried under meetings and campaign drafts.

I didn’t even ask him why he was suddenly so free. I just smiled, grateful because who wouldn't be? He cooked. He made me laugh. We played silly games on my breaks. He stayed until evening sometimes, acting like he had nowhere else to be.

There was a moment on the second day when I caught him staring at me, his eyes softer than usual. When I asked what was wrong, he just smiled that rough little smile that always made me feel like everything was okay and ruffled my hair the way he always did when words felt too heavy.

Maybe I should have pushed harder. Maybe I should have known. It wasn’t until Tinu, his sister, called me that I realized something was wrong. She had called casually at first, asking if I had seen her brother. I said yes. He was fine, he was even spoiling me with food and company.

There was a short silence. “Simi... he’s not fine,” she said gently. Her voice cracked a little. “He lost Uncle Tade. It hit him harder than he’s letting on.”

I sat there frozen, the phone pressed against my ear. Olamide? Heartbroken? And yet he was showing up at my place every day, feeding me, making me laugh, pretending nothing was wrong? I felt the guilt tighten around my chest. I should have known. I should have asked again. I should have looked harder.

That night, I barely slept. The next morning, I was at his place before 9 a.m., standing outside his door with my heart pounding. He opened it with a sleepy face and messy hair, wearing a loose sweatshirt and sweatpants.

The softest smile tugged at his lips when he saw me. “Hey, babe,” he said casually, like nothing was wrong. I couldn’t help it.

I stepped into him and hugged him tight, my arms wrapping around his torso, my face pressed against his chest. “Babe..." my voice cracked. And just like that, he knew. He knew I had found out. He wrapped his arms around me so tightly, as if he was holding on for dear life. And slowly, as we stood there in his living room, his walls came crashing down.

I felt the tears spill onto my hair. He was crying. Silent, heavy tears. I clung to him harder, my own eyes welling up. He had been holding it all in for days.

We stayed like that for what like forever, like two people trying to patch a wound that had no easy fix.

When we finally sat down on his couch, he leaned into me, his head resting lightly against mine. The apartment was quiet, except for the occasional sound of him sniffing, trying to pull himself together. I didn’t rush him. I just stayed there. Because I think sometimes, love is just when you stay.

He started talking slowly after a while about his uncle. About how much he admired him growing up. How it felt like losing a father. This time, his shoulders felt relaxed. He felt at peace. You could tell his burden were not lifted.

I listened every word was a little piece of the weight he had been carrying. At some point, I looked at him and felt my chest ache.

I realized somewhere along the line, I had made Olamide this person in my head that exists to be always calm. Always steady. Always fine..But he was human. Soft, tender, hurting, just like the rest of us.

“I didn’t want to burden you,” he said finally, his voice low. I frowned slightly, not at him, but at the thought.

“You’re not a burden, Mide," I said softly. "You’re my person. My favorite person. You’re supposed to bring it here.” He chuckled a little and brushed my hair back from my face.

“I know, babe. I just.…you had work. You were already stretched. I didn’t want to add to it.”

I blinked away fresh tears. He had been hurting, but thinking about me. “Next time," I said, squeezing his hand, "let’s carry it together. Even if it’s soooo heavy.” He smiled again. That soft, boyish smile that get me falling for him over and over again like it's the first time.

“I will," he promised. And I believed him.

That day, we didn’t do much. No fancy dates. No big declarations. We just sat there. Two broken hearts finding comfort in each other. And somehow, even in the silence, everything felt a little more bearable.

Sometimes, love is quiet. Sometimes, it’s the steady hand that reminds you, you don't have to be strong all the time.