Maduka's POV:
Something is bothering her.
All through the drive to Jevinik Restaurant, Ikeja, it's obvious that she's forcing herself to converse with me, to ask me how my day went. When I return the question, she simply shrugs and says, "You know how it is in Nigerian universities," before facing straight ahead, leaving me with her profile to look at.
She is so distracted that she trips on the front stairs leading up to the entrance of the restaurant.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask for the second time.
"Of course. It's normal to trip," she snaps at me, unknowingly confirming the obvious.
Over a delicious meal of white agidi, egg sauce and fried yam chips, I watch her pick at her food.
"Come on. Tell me what's wrong," I plead finally.
"It's none of your business, Maduka," she sighs before putting a piece of yam into her mouth.
The comment literally burns me and I press my lips together, look down at my food, and force myself to finish it in silence. I forcefully gulp down my water, dab at my mouth with a napkin, and lean back to watch her.
Nwanyieze's POV:
I'm being such a brat and I know it. I've hurt his feelings when all he's been trying to do is help me relax, enjoy a good meal, and have a good time.
But the thought of Mr. Adeyemo's hands on my body (and the fact that he might probably infect me with something) keep haunting my thoughts. If I say no, I won't graduate at the right time. If I say yes, it's to unprotected sex and a parting gift of probably some rare case of STD, and not to mention breaking the vow I had made to never sleep with any of my lecturers.
I can feel Maduka watching me intently while I try eat. I peer up at him and there he is, clenching and unclenching his jaw, eyes unabashedly fixed on me. Quickly I start stuffing my face with food to look busy. The food is delicious, but I barely enjoy it. I know that if I don't eat, I'll wake up hungry at midnight and roam the flat in search of something to eat. Plus, I can't just leave this food that Maduka has paid for to waste.
My plate picked clean, I wipe my mouth with a napkin and say, "Thank you for the meal."
"You're welcome."
We both sit in silence, with him never taking his eyes off me. Guilt sits on my shoulders and I feel so ashamed of myself for ruining what was supposed to be an interesting dinner. But I don't say anything, I only look around at the softly lit restaurant, with its lovely golden chairs and tables, elegantly set. All around us are the muted sounds of cutlery clicking against expensive ceramic plates, the laughter and chatter of other customers enjoying themselves.
"Do you want to go home?"
I nod and he does the same, calls the waiter, pays the bill, gets up before me, and offers me a hand to help me to my feet.
Ever the gentleman, I muse inwardly. At the exit, he places a hand on the small of my back.
"I'm not going to trip again, you know," I tell him.
"Just making sure," comes the tight reply.
Inside the car, I blurt, "I'm sorry I ruined it all."
"Okay."
"I didn't mean to. It's just that..."
He twists his body to face me completely. "Care to share?"
YOU ARE READING
Preordained #ProjectNigeria
RomanceWhen Maduka meets Nwanyieze, he is certain they are meant to be. He knows she is a woman with secrets, but he cannot stay away from her. He also has secrets of his own, of a past that he has been fearing and seeking to confront at the same time... N...
