Chapter 2. The Ticket

The next morning, Richard woke before Happiness.

He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

For the first time since they had married, he was afraid to get out of bed.

His job was gone.

Their savings were small.

The rent was due in less than two months.

And somewhere in the back of his mind was a thought he had been too ashamed to say aloud.

Maybe Lagos was no longer enough for him.

At breakfast, Happiness noticed that he barely touched his food.

“You’re thinking again,” she said.

Richard forced a smile.

“I’m always thinking.”

“Not like this.”

He looked at her.

Then he reached into his pocket and placed a folded piece of paper on the table.

Happiness opened it.

It was an email.

A former colleague had moved to Canada and claimed there were construction companies looking for experienced supervisors. The salary was several times what Richard had been earning.

Her eyes moved slowly across the screen.

“Canada?”

He nodded.

“I could go first. Find work. Get settled. Then bring you.”

Happiness didn’t answer immediately.

She knew what the word Canada meant.

It meant distance.

It meant uncertainty.

It meant months, perhaps years, without the man she loved.

But it also meant opportunity.

Richard reached across the table.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know.”

“I can build something there.”

She looked at him.

“And if you stay here?”

He sighed.

“I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Happiness folded the paper carefully.

Then she said something Richard never forgot.

“Go.”

He stared at her.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“What about us?”

“We’re still us.”

“What if it takes longer than we expect?”

“Then we wait.”

“What if things become difficult?”

She smiled.

“They already are.”

That night, they began calculating everything.

The flight.

The visa.

The accommodation.

Food.

Transportation.

Documents.

Every number seemed too large.

They had no rich relatives.

No influential connections.

No family abroad waiting to receive them.

But Happiness refused to let Richard give up.

She sold two rolls of expensive fabric she had been saving for the Christmas season.

Then she sold her gold earrings.

When Richard protested, she shook her head.

“Those things can be replaced.”

“And you?”

“I’ll be here.”

He pulled her into his arms.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Neither of them knew how expensive that promise would become.

The Goodbye

Three months later, Richard was standing at Murtala Muhammed International Airport with one suitcase.

Happiness stood in front of him, trying desperately not to cry.

“Call me when you land.”

“I will.”

“Not tomorrow.”

“I will.”

“Richard.”

He smiled.

“I promise.”

She fixed his