63- Another Angle

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Saheed's POV~

She feels nothing for me.

Her eyes hold no warmth for me; even after two months of trying my very best. I have spent sleepless nights, thinking of ways to thaw the ice in her heart, but all efforts have yielded no fruit. In my bed, she is like fire, never resting until she has burned out; but after that, it's like her eyes glaze over and she sees through me, even when I try to make conversation.

"But that's how we behave," she said with a dry laugh when I had asked her one night as she retouched her make up at the dressing mirror of my favourite hotel room on Lagos island.

"You're not one of them," I blurted, but I instantly regretted it because Queen slowly turned from the mirror, her purple lipstick in her hand, her painted eyelids glittering. The look in her eyes had been amused, and I had never felt so stupid.

She had given me a long look, and I had felt vulnerable right there, lying on the bed half-dressed from our encounter. I had stared at her, mesmerized by her beauty, her wickedness. She'd been wearing a pale pink bodysuit, and her bouncy brown curls- a wig I had gifted her a few weeks back- had been in disarray from rolling around in bed.

Had Maduka been this mesmerized? I remember asking myself. How had he seen her? Innocent and almost virginal, or dangerous with her claws out?

That's the thing, it's like she's an entirely different person. Slowly, I am losing my hold on her, on myself, on my life.

Did I create a monster? I had wondered. Did I do this?

"But you have her, don't you?" I now ask myself aloud. Alone in my apartment, I pace restlessly on my balcony, the same balcony where I had watched Maduka and Queen end so abruptly- thanks to my efforts. My phone beeps in my pocket, reminding me of my meeting with her.

My body tenses at the thought of seeing her. While her words- no matter how few they are- might not be pleasant, I want to be with her. Despite the ice all around her, I want to feel her. Grabbing my keys, I leave my abode.

The drive to our usual hotel lasts for fifteen minutes. I know she will keep me waiting; she always does. I sit in the spacious reception of the three-star hotel, waiting for her while reading a sports magazine I had picked from the centre table admist a pile of fliers for some conference I have no interest in. Today must be a special day, because there are numerous gorgeous ladies lounging around.

Too distracted to acknowledge the one sitting beside me on the velvet couch, I allow myself to retreat into my thoughts of Queen.

She said that this relationship is devoid of feelings. You had accepted, because it was apparently the only way you could have her, wasn't it? Did you think she would love you like she loved Maduka?

Did Maduka ever call or search for her after that party? Did he still want her after what she'd told him? Does he know she's changed her address? Does he even think of her anymore?

She never mentions him. Not since we started this physical relationship. I have never brought him up, either, and that seems to do the both of us a whole lot of good.

Because of the guilt you feel.

Feeling guilty was not something I had anticipated. I thought that knowledge of her past would push Maduka away so she could see that I don't give a damn about the fact that she was into prostitution. I thought she would see, that it is my desire to give her a luxurious lifestyle, the type she's never dreamed of. I thought that she would come to love me...

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