He comes home when I leave. Every day. We'd pass by each other, heads down without uttering a word, not as much as make eye contact. He holding the door for me as I rush to work in the mornings.
A very attractive man, in his thirties. I don't know his excuse, but I tend keep to myself. Perks of growing up in a very small family, mostly by myself. It was really easy to notice his beauty since we met every morning.
The everyday gesture was really touching. So it began with a single nod, and he reciprocated with a bashful smile. A silent conversation between two seemingly introverts.
Weeks later I decided, against my better judgement to mutter a small greeting 'Good morning.'
To which he muttered back 'Morning' in a deep breathy voice. As a civilized adult, I bit down my squeal and left for work.
A few more days flew by and we graduated from a simple greeting to appreciation.
'Good morning.' He says.
'Good morning' I repeat. 'Thank you ' I add as he holds the door.
'You're welcome' He would reply.
At this point, we were already more of acquaintances rather strangers. It felt nice to have a friend.
Making friends as an adult is awkward and a lot of work, only to find out that they are really bad and fake people to begin with, then you cut them out of your life, earning yourself one more enemy and one less friend.
I would have been content with this new status, but like every friendship, it blossomed, when he initiated an actual conversation one day.
'Good morning, thank you very much.' I smile.
'Morning, you're welcome.' He replies, 'How was your night?.'
I blacked out for a split second, not expecting the question, I thought it was like our every other day ordeal.
'It was nice, you?.' I ask finally managing what one would call eye contact with him for the first time and boy!, was he beautiful.
'Well, it would have been good, if I wasn't working all night.' He yawns.
'Oh, what do you do?.' I ask impulsively. The question had been on my mind since our first interaction.
'I'm a doctor.' He throws out like its random.
My jaw hits the floor. 'Wow, I guess that explains why we're always meeting like this.'
He smiles, his first real smile since I've met him. 'Yes it does. Have a nice day.'
'You too.' I tell him blushing heavily.
What started out as holding the door for me as I rush out turned so deep that I couldn't stop thinking of him at work. I have not had a crush or anything romance related in a long time, so this was a reawakening of muscles I hadn't used in a while, ones I forgot I had.
Ha had a cousin who visits every weekend. I would listen to them from the thin walls we shared as they argued over football. The casual throws of insults at their parents and the clinging of bottles, and the screams of victory when one team scored a goal. A direct contrast to the put together doctor and complete gentle man, but I liked it.
And like they were a soothing podcast about nature, I would fall asleep listening to.
In the mornings, he would tell me if I was missing an earing, if my purse was hanging loosely from my bag, if I had a stain on my shirt. And I, if his jacket was crocked, if he got a new haircut, if he had a long night of work. It was our thing and it felt special. It went on for long but if felt too short.
I looked forward to mornings because I knew I would "bump" into him. And on days we missed each other, I would be cranky at work. Sometimes, I got up earlier, so I would wait patiently to make sure we ran into each other before leaving.
Well that was until, she came. A National Youth Corp member. She was every man's dreams, curves in the right places, a gorgeous face and filthy rich. A typical Instagram model. I bet she had over two hundred thousand followers.
She could afford to move rent a two bedroom apartment all to herself in this side of town, fresh out of school and still serving.
The very day she came house hunting, she paid full price and was handed the keys, less than an hour later a whole team of cleaners and movers came to set up the apartment with brand new everything.
And the next day she returned with her carry on bag and expensive looking suitcases.
I don't usually get threatened by anyone, I'm not insecure about my looks. I'm a catch, I know that, so I thought miss corper and I would eventually become civil with each other. But boy was I wrong. Because come Monday, I got the shock of my life.
Standing at the gate, are both of them. She laughing at a joke he apparently made. They looked picturesque, like a scene from a movie. Those little lovey sappy 30 seconds montages. Like they've known each other for ages.
Anger flared in me for no reason that even an hour after arriving at work, I still couldn't shake off.
I pick up my pace. 'Excuse me, some of us actually need to get to work early.' I snap angrily forcing myself between them.
And just like that, what would have been, vanished. She taking my place with him every morning. I became the angry neighbor, that one they would abruptly stop talking once they notice coming and give way for.
I felt horrible and angry at myself for being so bothered that they were close even though he had known her for just a couple of days. But I had every right to be, he met me first, he is mine.
The next morning, I let out a breath as I see him alone, walking in. A smile grace my lips, but falls as quickly as it rose at the sound of her loud voice.
'Uche!.' Big Assed Corper- what I call her - beat me to it. She yelled out his name practically running to meet him.
So that's his name, I thought to myself. I only know him as Mr. Frances as the landlord often referred to him. He quickly breaks out a full smile as she speaks, batting her long eyelashes at him.
'How was your shift?.' She asks touching his arm.
'You look nice.' He says flicking a splint of her shirt and I loose it. That was our thing!.
Turns out there was no our thing after all, he compliments her, he tells her that her phone is sticking out of her tiny purse, he picks dirt off her clothes. He tells her that she is missing an air pod.
It was not special, non of it, from his shy smiles, to his deep chuckles, his subtle compliments on my hair, my new lip color, my new nails, my new cologne. I was reading into it all along. He does that to everyone. A Gentle man.
Maybe because I have been on a ridiculously long dry spell, or something, because I haven't been this distracted since Uni days. But I really thought there was something.
So to protect myself from future hurt, I decide to avoid him all together. Crushes always fade away. But it hurt to see that despite the sour woman I had become, he still greeted.
'Good morning' He would mutter under his breath, even though I never replied.
'You look really beautiful today.' He adds the morning after I made a trip to the saloon. He looked really tired I could tell, he must have had a long day at work, still he mad an effort to hold the door for me, greet and compliment me.
I literally ran out of the door that morning as I didn't trust myself anymore. He could as much just breathe and I would read into it. But it was still useless as he was all I could think about all day.
Enough was enough, I would go over to his apartment, knock on the door and speak to him. There is no way he would expect me to hear what he said this morning and not catch any feelings.
What game is he trying to play with me?.
But as the staff bus dropped me at the bus stop, I take a turn into the street, a chill ran down my spine. Something was off. People were standing awkwardly on the road. Women talking among themselves shaking their heads.
I made my way to the house in confusion and worry, only to meet a large crowd in front of the gate.
'Yes, very young man like this.' I heard someone say, before I could take in the scene and understand the words I heard, our landlord appeared.
'You're here, I've been trying to call you since morning now.' The five foot middle aged man says in a stressed voice.
'Landlord what is going on?.' I ask looking around.
'Where did you put your phone?.' He asks instead.
'I think I left it at home this morning in a rush.' I answer absently. 'What happened?, why are there so many people?.' I raise my voice a bit over the murmur around me.
'Ah, Mr. Frances passed away this morning, in an accident, his family already came to get his body in the afternoon.' He explain and my heart stops. The noise around me blurs as I watch the landlord's mouth move.
My brain still caught up on 'Passed away' and 'Mr. Frances.'
'What did you say?.' I ask in a strange voice.
'According to the shop owners that saw him this morning, they said he appeared to be in a haste and didn't see an oncoming vehicle.'
My legs grow weak as each word sinks in. I push my way into the compound to see a crying Big ass corper. He was gone, Uche is dead.
'Ehn?!, this morning, I saw him this morning!, how?, Jesus!, he was already back from work, where would he have been rushing too?.' I turn sharply on the landlord almost knocking him over. My body suddenly itchy all over. My clothes feel like sand paper on my skin. My shoes uncomfortable.
'That's what I don't understand too ooh.' He claps his hand. 'He passed, on the way to the hospital.'
It's a lie. I repeat to myself. This is a bad dream and I'm still asleep. The day has not even started at all, I'm still sound asleep. Uche can't be dead. I still need to talk to him. I still need to know if he feels anything.
If he prefers girls with big asses and boobs like the corp. if he meant what he said. If he prefers rice over beans, why he never made tried to come over to my place. I would watch him walk out to buy the smallest things when he could have just asked if I could spare.
If he was in a relationship, with the Big ass corper or anyone else, when was his last relationship, what was his favorite position. I have a lot of questions.
'Alhaji!.' A tall man in a police uniform calls to the landlord, pushing through from the increasing crowd at the gate.
'Usman.' Landlord breaks into a sad smile as the officer prostrates before him.
'This is the rest of the stuff on him that the hospital released.' Officer Usman holds out a clear bag to him. After a few exchange of words that I didn't hear as I was still in denial. Landlord hands me the clear bag and a pair of keys.
Saying something along the lines of putting the bag in Uche's apartment for when his cousin would come to clear out.
I look down at the bag in my hands, containing his diamond wrist watch which had now shattered, his neck tie, the left leg of his brown shoe and I frown as I notice the phone in the bag. It looked awfully familiar.
I jiggle to bag to flip the phone around. My heart stops for the second time. It was my phone. The one I thought I left at home. The screen equally shattered, but I could still recognize what was mine.
The bag drops from my hand as black dots begin to appear around my eyes.
'Mr. Frances passed away this morning, in an accident'
'I saw him this morning'
'the shop owners that saw him this morning, they said he appeared to be in a haste.'
'he was already back from work, where would he have been rushing too?.'
'didn't see an oncoming vehicle'
'He passed on the way to the hospital'
He was rushing after me, to give me my phone. I killed him.