The Void Between Hearts ~~ongoing~~

49. Boma

"No way. You got it?" I ask

He makes a kiss face. "It's a signed copy."

"You met her?"

"More like she met me. I had Mother invite her over. She's more beautiful in real life, and really sweet too. Of course she felt the need to educate me about suicide and how I should never consider it again, but aside that, she was cool."

"No. . . I'm so jealous."

"And it's not a book about death. The title is some sort of metaphor for wanting you to live. And," he raises his index finger instructively. "Live well."

I laugh again, can't help it. "You're right, about the metaphor thing, it's exactly why my relationship with the book is a love-hate affair. "

"So, how are you doing today?"

"Less pained, a bit high, but still kissable," I say.

He laughs, I remember my dream and smile. "High school and hospitals." I murmur.

"What?" he walks up to sit beside me.

"Since you came back it's like we've both been in and out of hospitals, and me out of high school."

"I beg to differ. I remember there was the day I sketched you, then there was the mall; before you got mad at me, then prom before Quincy and Tosin happened, and then, the garden on monday," he points outside the window. "Yesterday before Chinny happened was good too."

Chinny. I'll ask Mom to call her for me.

"How's your Mom? Did you come with Mike and the rest?"

"Mother is doing great, and yes. Mike is right by the door so we can't risk kissing today. "

I laugh again. Did I ever say I love him? I do.

"So what's on the visiting programme aside kissing?"

"Not much," he shrugs. "First, my favourite passage from this wonderful book." He opens it and I sneak a peek at Sarah Okosi's wonderful signature of italicized O's and lingering S's and the title: Dying Like The Sun; a void.

"Ready?" he asks.

I nod.

"Before that, here." He hands me his iPad. The screensaver is the sketch he made of me. I smile and make a mental note to make it my screensaver again.

"Open it." He says.

I slide my finger across the screen, a page comes up. I see some spreadsheets.

No way. It's a lie.

My hand finds my mouth. "IVAN. NO YOU DIDN'T!" I unconsciously start sobbing, looking at it again.

"I did," he shrugs. "And I bought a camera too. Mother paid for our hotels and they're five star. Different rooms, so we can practice some restraint. "

"YOU'RE JOKING!" I can't believe him. "THIS IS MADNESS!"

"There's great weather in Maasai Mara around this time, Zanzibar too. Venice is at the peak of her romance season," he wriggles his brows. I can't still believe him. "And Santorini, the sunset there is nothing short of magical. We have three days to pack up."

"You're serious?"

"Your Mother got us Tee-shirts and picture frames for each city."

"SHE KNEW!"

"She was very excited when I told her."

He helps me wipe the tears off my face.

"I don't want to ask why, but why?"

He smiles with half his lips and a scrunched up nose. "Why is because Sarah Okosi did say, and I quote, 'The void between day and night is the void between youth and old; the void between sunrise and sunset. The latter happens anyway; a natural turnout unaffected by our very pathetic existences. Where at night, at old, and at sunset, the only thing that matters is everything in between. That special sweet spot we must find.' "

I open my eyes when he ends. That quote isn't strange to me, I know it, I've read it, memorized it, perhaps a thousand times but it only makes complete sense now.

"I feel like I don't deserve you."

"You kind of don't, and that's why I'm so special aren't I?" he raises an eyebrow with a full smile. "Shoot?" he asks

"Shoot." I wipe my eyes, wrapping my hand strongly around his biceps.

Three days. Then we leave for Kenya. I still can not believe it.