Song: 'Like I Do' by Fireboy DML
"Finally."
Satisfied, I step back from my easel and study my work. The face of the woman I have drawn is looking away from me, her profile in full view, curls standing around her head, as stubborn as she is. She is looking straight ahead, a small smile teasing her full lips.
"This is your third drawing of her," I murmur to myself, "And she hasn't seen a single one."
Carefully, I unclip the drawing paper, slide it into a brown envelope, and store it safely in a plastic folder where the other two drawings are waiting.
Waiting for what? I wonder. Baba must think I am a creep.
My father has chanced upon my drawings of Ola a few times and each time he had complimented them before sighing and shaking his head. Each time, I heard what he never said out loud: My son, you're in hot soup. This woman has gotten you.
I wonder why she hasn't responded to my dinner request for the second day in a row now. Briefly, my stomach tightens into a knot at the thought that she may have decided not to bother with me, not after I had shown her time and again...
Do I call her? Would that bother her? What is she doing? Saheed, Baba may be right.
The sudden need to see her grips me so hard that I grit my teeth and will myself to stand still, to not grab my keys and fly into the elevator and drive over to her place like I had done two days ago, straight from work, not even bothering to change my clothes. I had looked at her face and everything had felt so right, all my tension had melted...even when she had frowned at me from the other side of her turf and said, "You have got to be kidding me," and it had sounded like music to my ears. Wanting to be in the same space with her-- albeit grudgingly, on her part—had been so overwhelming that I am still baffled till this day.
Do I call her? Yes.
I grab my phone from my bed and dial her number. Standing, staring at nothing at all, breath held while her line rings, I briefly wonder if this is normal.
"Hello?"
"Ola."
"Saheed."
"I miss you."
I can imagine the expression on her face, how she pulls the phone away from her ear to confirm that I am truly the one calling.
"Is everything okay?" She asks, concern creeping into her voice.
"Yes."
"Right."
"Are you sure you're not angry with me?"
"Oh no, of course not."
"That's comforting." It is on the tip of my tongue to remind her of my invitation to dinner, to ask, 'Have you forgotten me so easily, Ola? Don't you want to spend time with me? Did that question unsettle you?'
But I don't.
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I haven't heard from you in two days."
I can hear the amusement in her voice. "Forty-eight hours."
"Too short?"
"I don't have an answer to that, Saheed."
"What did you do today?"
"I visited my father at work to sign some documents, delivered some outfits, got some professional shots done for them, worked some more on new designs. The usual."
"Seems your father is slowly pulling you into the family business."
"It's a step-by-step thing."
"You're becoming quite the heiress. And what about your step-mother? Your step-siblings?"
"It isn't easy, but we aren't assassinating ourselves yet over the Matthews Fortune," she jokes.
"But Ola, I want you to be careful."
"Saheed, my father is all I've got left and if he wants me there, I will show up. I know it sounds selfish, given the circumstances of my...existence...but he's the only biological family I've got left. He has his own skoin-skoin, but...don't they all?"
"Tell me about it," I respond with a small laugh. "My Baba has his good days."
"You seem to be fond of him these days."
"Because I mentioned him?"
"The both of you have bonded over your sister's emergency."
"I suppose we...hashed a few things out."
"And I'm happy for the both of you."
"It's still a work in progress."
Ola laughs. "Same here."
"But we love them, they love us. That's most important."
"Yes, it is."
A short silence follows, and, unable to hold it in I ask, "Ola, have you forgotten my request?"
"Dinner? No, I haven't."
"Okay."
"Okay."
I almost ask, 'Well?' but I hold myself. I understand that she is making me expectant, taking her time. The hairs on the back of my neck stand when I hear a male voice in the background.
"Hey, I have to run now. We could catch up later?"
"Sure," I reply, not quite liking the feeling of being kept aside for someone else.
"Bye."
"Bye."
I dial up Amina immediately.
"I know it's woman matter that you're calling me up for," sha says wryly before I can even say hello.
"She hasn't responded to my invitation to dinner, what am I doing wrong, Amina?"
"Are you sending her gifts? Remember, she's still wary of risking it all for you."
"Gifts?"
"You know, Saheed, I remember you buying loads of gifts for the past women you have wooed, wined, dined and bedded, but you don't know what to do for the one person you've fallen for. It's the irony for me."
"I don't know what she wants, she doesn't give much clues, she is fiercely independent, and Amina, that woman can be obstinate."
"Sounds like a perfect match to me."
"But I refuse to give up."
"That's the spirit, we Bellos aren't quitters."
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. What if Ola has given up on me and just wants to catch cruise? Or keep it sexual, no strings attached? Or platonic?
"Surprise her."
"How?"
"Omo no dey ask me all these kind things. Use your head, take the lead. Show interest, call her to know how her day went, send her memes, send gifts, and at the same time give her space."
"That is the most conflicting advice I have ever heard."
"Like I said, use your head. From what you've learned about Ola, what have you done in the past to make her smile, to make her happy? Can't relate though, I have gotten husband."
I hiss in response.
"Noah is awake. It's time to feed him for the tenth time today."
"Can't relate though, I don't have wife."
"Oh, at this rate, you will. And I'll be waiting for you at the finish line. Bye, Brother Saheed!"
"I hate it when you call me that, aburo mi."
"Get out jare!"
I spend the next three hours poring over some left-over work and finishing up pending tasks so Baba won't be on my neck tomorrow. He may be my father, but he is also my boss and does not spare me when I do not meet up to my responsibilities. Like the time I had shown up to work half drunk, in the months following the end of my relationship with Queen. He had dragged me into his office and given me a good talking to that left me sober. I had gone from high to embarrassingly self-aware and promised to never bring drama to work.
By the time I am done, the sun has set, leaving the sky in a dark grey hue. I stand by the window, imagining Ola, seated on the floor, watching Lagos go dark beneath her, legs folded underneath her or hugging her knees to her chest. I imagine myself working on my laptop, throwing her glances, or lying there beside her in companionable silence, or standing at my easel, sketching her.
You're such a sucker, Saheed.
Hungry, I decide to have an early dinner in the restaurant. What better way to assess the workings of my establishment than to dine there? After a cold shower, I dress simply- brown linen trousers, a white shirt, brown leather slippers and some cologne. At the reception, I give Claudia a small wave, and she nods in response. Claudia, what a professional- except when Baba shows up, she loses her cool. I suppose she has not gotten used to him well enough.
Seated at the most secluded part of the restaurant, a huge vase of deep green plants separating me from an empty table and granting me obscurity, I peruse today's menu. One of the selling points of Luxury's Finest is the dynamic menu. We have our constant, signature dishes, but we like to switch up our menus every two months. Thanks to our professionally trained chefs from many parts of the world, we offer customers international cuisine along with local dishes with finesse.
Tonight, I will be opting for oven baked, honey coated chicken and lasagna with a Nigerian twist- adequate pepper and seasoning. It takes ten minutes for my meal to arrive; not bad, I think. The waiter gracefully arranges it in front of me, a smile on his face.
"Enjoy your meal, Sir."
"Thank you."
I am halfway through my meal when I hear sounds from the table beside me. Movement on both seats tells me that two people are now seated. They must have assumed my own table is empty, because I can hear them speak without lowering their voices.
"Thank you. You're such a gentleman," a female voice says.
It takes everything in me to remain seated, to not stand up and peer over the numerous leaves and confirm the owner of that voice.
"You're welcome."
Haba. The gods must be joking.
"My Queen, what would you like us to have tonight?"
Queen.
She giggles. "I'll go through the menu in a bit.
Also, this place is gorgeous and serene. I love it."
"I knew you would. I am so glad we're out tonight. It's feels like it's been ages."
"Maduka, I am sorry you feel this way. It's my fault- "
"Oh no, baby girl, don't say that. We have a baby; you birthed a whole child. Your body and mind went through things I can only imagine. I am happy you're feeling more like yourself."
"Will Kora be okay? I hope Mama doesn't forget the milk I expressed- "
"Nwanyieze, her grandmother will take care of her. She will be fast asleep by the time we return."
"That one? With her eyes that shine like torches."
They both laugh, hers tinkling and his, deep. A perfect match.
And I had tried to come between these two. What was I thinking?
"You know, I am glad you convinced me to come out. Thank you for this lovely new dress," she says.
"Anything for you. See, if you want, I'll buy ten more, every available color."
"Maduka, you're so sweet."
"You're sweeter."
I do not want to listen to this, but I am stuck here without my air pods and my ears have a mind of their own all of a sudden.
"I have been mean to you of recent, haven't I? All the tears and mood swings...it was like I lost control after the birth. Some days I wake up and it feels like...there's this weight on my chest and I worry that our relationship will change for good..." Queen's voice trails off.
"You're doing amazing, baby girl. Post-partum depression and all, you're not the kind of mother you feared you would be. You're getting better, you're getting support. And I'm not going anywhere. You'd better keep that in mind, we're forever."
I hear her sniff, then laugh. Unable to resist, I peer through the spaces between the leaves to see Maduka leaning over the table to kiss Queen, full on the mouth. He sits back and uses a thumb to touch her cheek, probably wiping away a tear. There is so much love in their gestures and the way they look at each other, it makes my throat close up.
E choke, I guess, I say silently.
"I love you," I hear her say.
"I love you," he responds.
"And please don't order for beans, I know you love beans but not tonight."
Maduka throws back his head and laughs. I withdraw from the leaves and lean back in my seat.
If I could draw them, I would paint a warm, pink glow around them, seated at the table, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes.
"You had enough beans in your growing years; that's why you're tall like this."
It sounds like a joke Queen has been repeating since forever, and even before he responds, I know he relishes it.
"I never heard you complain," he replies.
"You know what they say about tall men..."
"Seduction in public? I'm liking this."
"I've got more where that came from, big boy."
It is like she is a whole new person, wearing her heart on her sleeves, showing her vulnerability and her sense of humor, laughing aloud, pleasure and happiness in her voice because of Maduka. With me, Queen had never laughed out loud unless it was to taunt me, to remind me that we would never be more than the sex. I would get no love from her, no warmth. It stings me, the memories, the things I had done to make her that way towards me. The toxicity we shared that had been my drug and my poison kept me wanting more, kept me trying harder and harder to be in control of myself, in control of the one woman that would never be mine...
And now she is right here, loved, glowing, at peace. But I am truly happy for her.
I remain seated while they make their orders and eat, glad to remain unseen by them. I know that the sight of me may not be a good idea, in these intimate moments. Sure, Maduka and I had been cordial when we met a few months ago, but Queen and I had not met, not since she had kissed me goodbye years ago and wished me well before seeming to disappear. A small part of me is thankful for the delay from the waiter; gathering my left overs and cutlery would surely draw their attention to my table.
Distracting myself with my phone, I text Ola on WhatsApp.
Hey, how are you? What are you up to?
Ola: I'm alright, how about you? I'm on Netflix. What are you up to?
Dinner downstairs. How did your day go?
Ola: Quite uneventful. Came home early.
And I wasn't invited to drop by?
Ola: I'm sure you had other business to attend to.
I feel myself deflating at the thought that Ola does not consider herself a priority to me.
Ola, you are a priority.
Ola: But what did you do today, yourself?
I worked remotely. Virtual meetings, sent emails, drafted proposals, followed up on projects, the usual.
Ola: Sounds like fun.
You mock me.
Ola: Anyways. I am sorry I have to continue my movie. Good night then?
Alright. Enjoy your movie
Ola: Also, my answer is yes.
I punch the air, almost blowing my cover.
Wonderful. I'll send you the details tomorrow.
Ola: Sure. Good night, Saheed.
Good night, Ola.
I release a deep breath, unable to stop myself from smiling. It takes me a few seconds to notice that Maduka and Queen are done with their meal and are having their pictures taken by one of the waiters. Peeping through the leaves, I see her kissing the inside of his palm, her eyes shining with...tears? Joy? Happiness?
Probably all of them.
Thinking fast, I send a text message to the Restaurant Manager. The waiter arrives at their table. I hear him tell them that the bill for tonight is on the house. Queen gasps in shock.
"Well, where is the Manager? Can we thank him?" Queen asks.
"He just stepped out, Ma'am. But he dropped this instruction before leaving."
"How can we say thank you, then?" queries Maduka.
"There will be no need."
"Thank you so much for the wonderful service. And please, send our gratitude to your manager, okay?" Queen requests.
"He will hear, Ma'am. Thank you for coming to Luxury's Finest."
Something moves me to follow them to the exit at a safe distance, but I remain seated. I watch Maduka take off his jacket and drape it over Queen's shoulders before pulling her close to himself as they walk towards the exit. Despite the heeled sandals she is wearing, Maduka still towers over his wife. He lowers his head and whispers something into her ear and she looks up at him, laughing. Once they are out of the restaurant, I rise from my seat and move to the lobby, to watch them leave.
At the main entrance, while they wait for the valet to bring their car, they stand huddled together under the bright lights, uninterested in waiting in the cool comfort of the lobby. Queen leans into Maduka. The light breeze ruffles the hem of her silk shift dress. He laughs at something she says before leaning to kiss her, this time for longer. Then, they both laugh this time, so absorbed in themselves and their own world that they do not notice that several pairs of eyes are looking at them. Even Claudia is resting her elbows on the counter, staring at them with a smile on her face.
Love lives here, with these two.
I find myself smiling, too. They are soon gone, leaving me in my own world. I begin my stroll towards the elevator. Maybe I will retire early tonight and hug my pillow like a lovesick man- not far from the mark-
"Hey, Saheed!"
"Jide?"
I turn to see Jide, jogging towards me, dressed like he is on his way to a party.
"Guy! I just saw Madi and Queen leaving. Una do meeting?"
"You're a fool, Jide," I laugh. "They just had dinner here."
"But did they see you?"
"No, but I saw them."
"Thank God," Jide says.
I imagine how it must all be for Jide, being close friends with myself and Maduka. After all, he had introduced us both all those years ago, right before Queen had come into our lives- my life- and wreaked havoc unknowingly. Thankfully, neither of us speak to Jide about the other; I am sure Maduka is not one to talk about people behind their backs. Small world.
"Jide, did you think it would be violence on sight?"
"Man, I don't know, and I wouldn't want to be there."
"What if I told you that we have met?"
Jide stops in his tracks, in front of my private elevator. "Who died?"
I can't stop myself from laughing at his surprise, so comically etched on his face. "That was months ago. We shook hands and exchanged greetings. Guy, Maduka is calm."
"Yes, he is. I know if you were in his shoes, you'd be colder, that's for sure."
I think about this for a moment. If someone tried to come between Ola and myself...what would I do?
"Maybe," I draw out. "And what are you even doing here?"
Jide steps in after me and pushes the topmost button to take us to the penthouse. "There's a party I came to drag you to."
"Without prior notice? I think the fuck not."
"Ah ah, since when did you need seven market days' notice before partying?"
"I just had dinner and would not like to dance my food out."
But I know that I will give in to Jide's invitation, anyways. It's been ages since I partied. I could burn some energy, take some booze, and then return to sleep everything off by midnight.
Jide and I share a long look, with him struggling to stop a smile from spreading across his face. "You always surrender, see your life?" he mocks.
"And I thought I was the bad influence."
***
Burna Boy's Anybody welcomes us into the party. It is around a huge, kidney-shaped swimming pool in a private mansion somewhere around Chevron; I am yet to ascertain who owns it.
Before I turn to look at my friend, he is already pulling off his clothes to reveal a pair of swimming shorts. To my surprise, Jide hands me his clothes and phone before diving into the pool, causing a splash that reaches and surprises other swimmers around him. One of the worst hit, a lady in a neon green bikini and low-cut blonde hair, yells but the music drowns out the sound.
Looking around, I find two empty wicker chairs and a table at the corner of the pool side, right by a makeshift bar. Here, the music is lower, making conversation easier.
Dropping Jide's clothes on one of the chairs, I step to the bar and ask for a drink. Something with alcohol would taste and feel good. The bartender makes a suggestion that sounds good to me.
"A banana smoothie with a shot of Bailey's that would be nice, thank you."
Fortunately, my own seat remains unoccupied. Seated, I watch the other members of the gathering. Bright, flashing lights, loud music, lots of food and drinks. Girls in their swimwear, dancing eating, swimming, drinking. Already, Jide has one of them clinging to his back while he guides her through the water. I shake my head and chuckle to myself. Since when did he become a swimming instructor?
My attention is drawn back to the table when someone picks up Jide's clothes from the chair and sits down. It's the lady with the blonde low-cut and neon-green bikini. Her skin is dark, gleaming from the water that is dripping from it. A nice contrast with the brightness of her outfit.
"Hello," she greets.
"Hello."
"Why are you out here alone? Why don't you take a dip in the pool?"
"Sadly, I didn't bring any swimwear."
"There are lots of guys here in their underwear, you know."
"I prefer to be dressed for the occasion."
She giggles and extends her hand towards me. "Chris. But with a K."
I take her hand and give it a light shake. "Saheed. But with an S."
My statement makes Kris laugh. "You have a sense of humor, nice."
"I could say the same for you."
We are silent for a while, sipping our drinks and watching other partygoers. Jide is playing pool ball with some people, making splashes and laughing aloud. Jide, the life of the party. Carefree, never one to allow any problem deter his enjoyment of this life. A small part of me wishes I had Ola here with me, so we could talk about anything and everything or dance, or I could have her in my lap, to hold.
Sigh. They have really gotten you.
"Kris, I am sorry I have to be gone for a few moments. Could you be a darling and look after my friend's clothes for me?"
"Of course," she replies with a smile.
The nearest quiet place is a small building that serves as the changing room. Once inside, I dial Ola's number.
"Hey," she greets on the first ring.
"That was fast."
"Netflix on my phone."
"Ah ah. Since then?"
"Castlevania is quite addictive. You should try it sometime."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Are you out tonight? Because I can hear distant music."
"Yeah. Jide dragged me to this pool party and he didn't mention there was a pool until we got here...so I'm watching him swim and nursing drinks."
"Surely you can have fun without swimming."
"Tonight, feels different."
"Are you okay?"
"Of course."
How do you say, 'I miss you' without actually saying it? How can I be so tongue-tied and overflowing with words at the same time?
"Ola, good night. Enjoy your Castlevania."
"Good night, Saheed. Drink and drive responsibly."
"Nice of you to remind me of that night."
She laughs. "How can I forget? You looked like hell."
"I'll take my leave now, before you yab the hell out of me."
"Bye."
"Bye."
This new, distant Ola intrigues me. She isn't cold, no. Just...different. Reserved, minding her business, maintaining her boundaries. It leaves me with mixed feelings: on one hand I am dismayed that her feelings for me may be taking a new dimension and on the other hand, I am suddenly more interested in getting under her skin, doing more...work? I cannot articulate my thoughts.
I hear music when the door opens. To my surprise, Kris saunters in and moves right towards me, placing her hands on my chest and her mouth on mine. I am so shocked that I let go of my phone and it drops to the floor. Inwardly, I groan because I will definitely be replacing the screen.
"I shouldn't have kept you waiting," Kris murmurs.
"Waiting? I never said- "
I freeze when she cuts me off by placing her lips on mine. Against my will, I taste alcohol and spices from whatever food she had previously. Pushing her bosom right into me, her hands grip the waist band of my denim trousers, fumbling to unbuckle my belt. I grip her wrists in mine, standing perfectly still and looking right into Kris's face.
"Kris, are you crazy?" I ask, feeling fury flood my insides.
"You don't want to...?"
"Did I ever give you the hint? I am dead sure I did not."
Her half-closed eyes, meant to be seductive, widen. Embarrassment covers her face and she lowers her gaze in contrition. "I must have misunderstood."
"You're damn right, you did. And now, I have a broken phone screen."
"I'm so sorry."
"You should be. Excuse me."
I pick my phone from the floor, sidestep her, and walk towards the entrance, taking quick steps. Coming here had been a colossal mistake. Not only has my ego been bruised, but I have been harassed, my phone screen has cracked, and the woman whose hands I want on my body is being distant towards me. Maybe I would have been interested in Kris's advances a few months ago, but alas, one woman has gotten into my mind and possibly screwed it up.
I sight Jide, seated at the table I had vacated some minutes ago.
"I'm leaving," I tell him.
"But we just got here, guy."
"And I have had enough."
Jide rises from his seat to look at me more closely. "You dey alright? What happened?"
"Nothing of importance. Tonight just doesn't feel good."
Fortunately, we had driven in our separate cars so I don't have to worry about his transportation.
Jide nods, knowing there is more to what I am telling him but choosing not to push. We share a brief hug before I literally rush out from the area, find my car, and drive off. Anger makes my hands grip the steering wheel so hard they go numb. A thousand and one thoughts fly through my mind at once, faster than the speed of light.
Was that how I had been, towards Queen? Too forward, disrespectful, bearing in on her personal space? Everything had been consensual with the women in my life. What if I had been the woman and Kris had been the man? Would she have let me go that easily? Alone in the changing room what would have happened? What hint did she think I gave her? Was it the jokes I made? My smile?
Like a plane on autopilot, I drive straight to Ikeja.
The security men let me into the estate after calling Ola's apartment. She is waiting for me at her front door, bare footed and clutching a blue silk robe around herself, hair in two pigtails. I sigh in relief; the male voice I heard earlier on the phone with her wasn't anything serious.
"Are you alright?" she asks me the moment she looks at my face.
"I'm not sure," I confess.
"Come in."
"Thank you."
Inside, I seat myself on the couch, bent on keeping my hands to myself no matter how difficult it is. I see that Ola has been lying on the floor because there is a blanket and two pillows beside her center table. Her phone rests on one of the pillows.
"Am I intruding?" I ask.
"Not at all."
"Ola...do I ever intrude? Invade your personal space?"
She gives me a puzzled expression as she settles back to the floor. I notice the deliberate distance between us and it heightens my despair.
"No," she answers. "Why are you asking me this?"
"Just reflecting. I wouldn't want to be a bother."
Her brows meet as she stares at me. "You're never a bother to me, Saheed. What happened?"
I weigh my options and decide to keep it to myself. "I just needed clarity."
She, like Jide, understands that there is more to my words, and she doesn't push.
"Would you like some chamomile tea? It has a calming effect," she suggests.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
I remain seated on her couch, lost in thought until Ola returns with a steaming cup of tea on a saucer.
"I added honey. Careful, it's hot."
"Thank you."
Ola sits beside me on the couch. She has concern etched on her features: the slender brows, her brown eyes, her plump lips.
"Would you like to spend the night here?"
"Yes. If that won't bother you."
She gives me another puzzled look and shakes her head. "I'll go and arrange the bed. You look exhausted."
All this reflection did exhaust me.
Off she goes, to her bedroom. She emerges when I have downed the whole cup of tea.
"The bed is ready. I still have some of your clothes, so they're laid out there for you to sleep in, okay?"
"Okay."
But I do not want to sleep. After changing into my long forgotten clothes– a black shirt and grey sweatpants, I return to the sitting room, where she lies on the blanket, her phone held close to her face.
"Can I join you?"
"Sure." She looks up from her phone and pats the space beside her, a small, knowing smile on her face.
I return her smile and waste no time in occupying the space beside her, fitting her right into the curve of my body.
We don't speak; I let her watch her show while I listen to the dialogues, inhaling her scent and absorbing her warmth, wishing daylight never comes so we can have more time to stay like this.
Finally, just like the last time I spent the night here, I drift off into a dreamless sleep, devoid of the sound of snapping bones, screeching of car tires, and curses.
A/N: If you're reading this, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for not giving up on myself, Saheed and Ola. Thank you so much.
PS: I chose this song to celebrate love, especially for Maduka x Queen's 'cameo' appearance (I bet you didn't see that one coming!😂).
And yes, I'm sorry it's a long chapter!
❤️