The Turbulence✔️ (#1 in the Our Side of The Dice series)

25: The implications of overwhelming emotions

Gifty
Lagos, Nigeria

Gaius had never honored my invitation so swiftly before. Not as if he was a tardy man by nature but seeing his car parked at the very entrance of my school just showed a different level of determination and eagerness.

He was eager. Eager to pay for his atrocities, to rectify his mistakes amidst anything that would serve as a potential barrier. Perhaps, even if that barrier was me.

The three days in between the revelation of the painful truth and now were torturously hellish. The worst part was when my mother called. I was supposed to be happy to talk to her after such a long while but I was trembling, sobbing even.

I just couldn't handle the horror of what I knew. How it was going to be like if she eventually found out because I had nothing to hide. At least I have to. She was going to know and it hurt me badly. The pressure was on me and I had no idea how to deal with it. It made me a mess.

Nevertheless, I had hope in the conversation I was to have with Gaius. I believed that we could perhaps, reach a compromise.

A compromise. I couldn't believe I was about to do that. I couldn't believe that hesitation and selfishness would be a driving force for my intentions but I wasn't in the very least, ashamed.

I swallowed hard and wiped the remaining tears that lingered on my swollen eyes. I went down the stairs till I reached his car. I saw him seated at the driver's seat, far too sunken to utter a word, talk more of a greeting. What was the need for pleasantries after all? It was a delicate matter at hand.

So I held my breath when he alighted from the car to open the door for me as a mere act of courtesy. I entered into the right seat and closed the door.

He avoided my eyes. I swallowed again.

He stretched his hands for the radio button and nervously, I reached for the air conditioner instead only to realize that that was the button he had wanted to press. I wanted to stop from him turning on the radio. I was dumb enough to think he would want to entertain some entertainment when there was trouble.

"I should—"

"As should I."

I let go of his hand quickly to let him turn on the air conditioning. The awkwardness was so vivid, it felt as though, it sat majestically between us amongst ten other intensifying, anonymous, atmospheres.

I took a deep breath.

"My aunt was the twelve-year-old girl you raped thirteen years ago."

I went straight to the point as a tear streamed down my eye. It hurt to shed them.

His breathing hitched. His jaw tensed, so, very rigidly. He looked at me with an alarming sense of urgency and guilt in his eyes. His gaze occasionally shifted from side to side, perhaps gathering the momentum that was needed to have tears fall down his eyes. When he succeeded, he fixed his gaze on me and cried.

He wept with painful remorse that tore my heart apart.

"I...I'm so sorry, Gifty. I'm so sorry. Shit!" he dug his hands in his hair in an attempt to wring it all out. His arms covered his face as he wept some more. He even whimpered. "What the hell have I done for heaven's sake?!" he groaned.

From then on, he couldn't bring himself to look at my face. He lowered his head and rested it on the steering wheel, nearly causing it to honk loudly then I remembered the honk had a fault and he needed to repair it. So I let him be to lament for a moment as I cried with a burn in my heart.