I'm stuck between the cliff and the sea, and Maduka is both.
I don't want him to go, but I know that having him has a high chance of leading to disaster. The way he just led me into this, the way I willingly followed even when he gave me a choice...
He whirls me through a series of activities: trips to the beach, lunch dates, evening strolls and warm cuddles in his home while watching movies. He is patient; so patient it amuses me. Gifts show up at my doorstep almost every week, from dresses or shoes with my accurate size (I never told him), to books, to flowers (Mama Uju always anticipates them because they smell so nice) to cards with quirky, handwritten poems and jokes. I enjoy every moment, but at the back of my mind it feels like a time bomb is ticking away the seconds till the apocalypse.
My prostitution job is temporarily forgotten; I haven't seen Opebi since that night I locked a potential customer up in his hotel room and ran off. Mama Uju is happy for me, being a former prostitute herself.
"I'm opening a shop at Balogun market," she announces one afternoon in our sitting room. I'm just finishing the elaborate lunch that Maduka has sent me from one of those posh food deliveries. The day is hot, and I returned from school to find the surprise.
"Congratulations, Mama," I reply, rising from one of the couches to hug her. "What are you selling?"
"Human hair extensions. It's still the craze now oo. Especially these lace closures. They bring in good money, and you won't have to go to that bar to work at night. We will put hard days behind us."
"Can we, really?"
If there's ever a person who knows my pain, it is Mama Uju. When I was homeless, she took me in. She sees me as her own daughter.
"Nwa, there is a bright future for you. You're not inferior to others, and you deserve the best just as any other girl does. We have gone through the worst, but Adanna won't. We will raise her with an honest living."
"Mama, what about Maduka?"
"He should know. And no one should should tell him, except you."
"He will leave me."
"What is yours will be yours. Look at me; I thought Nick would stay because of Adanna. But instead, he left me after announcing that he had a family in America. However, I don't regret it because something beautiful came out of our relationship." She smiles at me and runs a hand over my head. "You'll be alright."
We are still discussing her business plans while seated on the floor when a knock sounds on our front door. The man is wearing a uniform, and I can tell he works for a courier service.
"Miss Nwanyieze Okechukwu?" he asks.
"Yes, good afternoon."
"I have a delivery for you. Sign here, please."
Puzzled, I do as I'm asked. The man hands me a package. It is rectangular, wrapped in brown paper. He bids me goodbye and I shut the door.
"What is it?" Mama Uju asks.
"I don't know."
I carefully tear off the paper and scream.
It's a box. With a new phone inside. A brand new Samsung smartphone. Something I've never dreamed of having. Taped to the side of the box is a note.
To hear your voice better, and for you to take selfies of your stunning self. Don't go swimming with this one, though. M.
I can almost picture him in his office and hear him chuckling, the sound deep and vibrating in his chest.
"Mama, I don't understand..." is what I manage to choke out before bursting into tears.
Mama Uju sits there with her laughter filling the sitting room. "He's hooked."
My faulty Nokia torchlight lies a few meters from me on the floor, held together by a rubberband. I stare at it, lost for a moment.
"He got me a phone," I whisper. "A new phone."
"Let us drink wine for this one," Mama Uju says with a whoop. "Our boyfriend don buy phone oo."
She quickly gets up to go inside.
I wipe my tears away, still sniffling, and dial Maduka's number with my Nokia, but get no reply. Maybe he's busy.
How did I deserve this?
Later in the night, Maduka calls me when I'm in the sitting room with Adanna and I answer with my new phone.
"Ah, finally," he says. "I can hear you better."
"Thank you." My throat constricts again. It's a phone, but the gesture is what gets to me. That he considered that I had a troublesome phone and decided to go all the way and replace it for me...
"Are you there?" he asks, when I remain silent for a while.
"Yes," I reply.
He hears the tears in my voice. "What happened? Are you alright? Don't...dont you like it?"
"I'm fine, and I love it. Thank you. It's just... I'm surprised. I'm overwhelmed. I wasn't-"
"Expecting this?"
"Mmm."
"It's something I've always wanted to do since you fell into that pool."
I laugh, remembering how annoying that night had been, and how rudely I'd acted towards him even when he was trying to help me. Impatient, he had thrown me over his shoulder and literally stuffed me into his car while reminding me that I didn't appeal to him in anyway in my messy state.
"Thank you. For everything."
"Everything hasn't even started."
I imagine a grin on his lips while he says that.
"I'll be seeing you this weekend? I miss you," he says in a whiny voice that makes me giggle.
"I'll think about it."
"I'll have to learn how to scale walls and jump through windows so I can abduct you when everyone is asleep. Your shakara will end."
"Adanna will catch you."
"I'll bribe her. We both know she likes me. One cup of ice cream or an elaborate castle with her building blocks, and you're all mine."
"That much is true."
"I have had the most stressful day at work. An accidental fire took almost half of one of my buildings away."
I gasp. "You're all fine?"
"It's all fine."
"Are you sure?" I don't know if it's me or if his voice sounds strained all of a sudden.
"Absolutely. I'm driving home now; I'll call you tomorrow, alright?"
"Okay. Drive safely."
"Wish I were driving home to you."
"I'd have prepared a good meal for you, and we'd have showered together before eating."
"I'd love to lather you well." His voice drops, sending delicious shivers up and down my spine.
"I'm not the one driving," I caution.
He tells me goodbye in his low voice and hangs up. I clutch my phone to my chest, still in awe, and stare at nothing in particular while Adanna sits in my lap, scribbling her numbers roughly in her little notebook.
"Sister Nwa, are you happy?" she asks, raising her head to look up at me.
"Yes, Ada. I'm happy."
Ever observant, Adanna had noticed the new phone and commented on how pretty it was, before quietly asking if it had any games that she could play.
"Uncle M is good. I like him too."
I smile. Adanna has never asked about her father; I guess she isn't ready yet. Maduka is the only grown male she's met so far, and she absolutely adores him. The adoration is mutual.
"Two good people are good for each other," she says with all the innocence and simplicity a three-year-old can have.
It makes me laugh.
If only it were that simple, sweet one.
Restless, I wait till Friday for Maduka to visit. He calls and tells me he is sorry he won't be able to pick me up, and instead sends an Uber.
"Are you alright?" I ask him, more concerned than annoyed.
"Yes, only that I'm a bit caught up with some things at home now. I'm really sorry, baby girl. There's some work I have to do before you arrive."
"I could have made my way over, though."
"Ah, I don't want my baby all sweaty and stressed. She has to be yummy upon delivery," he jokes.
"But I'm not edible," I reply, feigning confusion.
His voice lowers, gets deeper and I imagine his eyes shining with mischief and desire. "You think so?"
I smile sheepishly, butterflies tickle at the insides of my belly, and my skin tingles all over, wishing for his touch. How would he make love to me if it ever got that?
"Are you there?"
"Oh. Oh. Yes, I'm here."
"Did I distract you?" I can hear the laughter in his voice.
"No," I answer too quickly, while I see him in my mind, grinning with a twinkle in his eye and one corner of his mouth raised.
"I'll be waiting."
That low voice again.
The Uber ride is swift; surprisingly the traffic isn't as much as I expected. The driver is a pleasant middle-aged woman. We fall into a discussion about how she became an Uber driver to support her family. She tells me that the job is convenient for her as a single mother who lost her husband two years ago. I wish her well before I step out of the car in front of Maduka's gate.
He has left it unlocked for me. I let myself in, take the short walk to the front door, and knock. Maduka's patio is dotted with potted plants: palms, hibiscus, and he's trying to grow roses. He's told me how he failed half a dozen times and refuses to give up.
The door opens and there he is, dressed in a shirt and boxers, a smile on his face. "Hello, beautiful."
I smile back at him, but my smile falters when I see that his right arm is bandaged and hanging in a sling.
Maduka's POV~
"You told me you were alright," Nwanyieze says slowly, reaching out to touch my injured arm.
"But I am," I reply, using my free hand to pull her inside, closer to myself. She raises her face, and I lower mine. Our lips connect and my body stirs. Seeing her has made me forget the throbbing pain in my arm and back. I have missed her sorely, but I know I have to give her her space. If not, I'd have found a way to see her everyday.
"Clearly you're not," she argues after I release her.
"I am, now."
"What happened?"
The fear comes back to me in a flash. At work, one of my buildings had caught fire from an explosion caused by sudden power surge. The heat had caused the metal doors to expand and I hadn't been able to easily open it to help one of my employees who was stuck inside an office. It had taken all my strength and that of another colleague to force it open and drag out the unconscious person.
It was horrifying, thinking that someone working for me would die on the job and despite shouts and warnings I had rushed into the building with a fire extinguisher and a shitload of adrenaline rushing through my veins. I suffered from a dislocated elbow joint, a sprained back and some burns to my shoulder and upper arm where I had come in contact with the heated door.
Nwanyieze listens with wide eyes while I recount my ordeal on the couch in the sitting room.
"My brave man," she says, coming closer to settle her lips on mine.
"You're inflating my head," I reply, but the praise makes me grin like a schoolboy and the kiss has me leaning towards her after she moves away. She obliges me, her hands on my face and her scent filling my lungs. It's so annoying that I have one good hand for the mean time; I really want to hold her against me, so close that her feet will leave the floor.
"I missed you," I tell her.
She places her head in my lap and looks me in the face. Her hairstyle this time is some twists, done with just her hair and dotted with little wooden beads. Her eyes are two black pools, so deep I can drown in them. The past few weeks have been blissful with her. She's come to trust me enough to take my word and be physically close to me.
I've noticed she withdraws each time the subject of her parents come up. Just last week I'd asked her if Mama Uju had raised her since childhood and she'd gone silent, her eyes had gone blank, and Nwanyieze had gotten up right in the middle of our lunch date and walked out of the restaurant. I'd quickly paid the bill and followed her to stand beside my car. The drive home had been silent except when she'd told me she wouldn't mind staying at mine for a while. On getting to my place, she had made a beeline for the couch and sat there, still refusing to talk to me.
"I'm sorry I upset you," I said calmly. "If you need anything, I'll be in my room."
Nwanyieze had nodded at me. If there's one thing I know about her, it's that times like this she likes to be left alone. Remarkably, she crawled into bed beside me some minutes later and wrapped herself around me while I was lying down, trying to figure out why she acted the way she did.
"I'm sorry," she'd whispered against my bare chest, her voice full of remorse. "I ruined our lunch. I made you look stupid in front of everyone there. You're always so good to me, but I end up messing up."
"I shouldn't have probed. I'm sorry. And you're not messing up." The embarrassment faded immediately, my heart melted at the manner of her apology.
"I used to have adoptive parents. They threw me out after some years because I was a bad girl, and Mama Uju took me in."
I still reel from the shock of it all, this rejection.
Why would they have done that? Was something sexual involved? Which one is bad girl?
I never asked; I was wary of setting her off again.
Slowly, Maduka. Peel off those layers slowly.
"You're perfect," I tell her now.
"Only to you," she replies.
"Then everyone else is blind."
Inside, I'm burning to know everything. I want to know what she's been through, I want to know how she went through it, and I want to know how I can best make her feel better. I suspect abuse from some of her behaviours, but I can't be sure until she tells me herself. It hurts me that this beautiful person may have been treated badly at some point in her life. I feel a bit of guilt for leaving her at the orphanage.
"Why do you look so sad?" Her brows come together.
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"I'm sad that I might not want to let you go."
It makes her laugh, and her white teeth appear, making a lovely contrast with her dark skin.
"What would you like for dinner, baby girl? I'd have loved to cook, but right now my hands are tied."
"Nice pun, Professor Obiagu. I'll be having choice beef sauteèd in tomato sauce with a side dish of soft white, long grain rice and some salad, thank you very much."
It is one of our jokes, trying to anglicanise the traditional Nigerian meals. "A fine choice, madam. Wouldn't you like a drink to go with that?"
"Yes, please. Something sugary, brown and carbonated."
"Excellent. Rice and stew and coke it is. I'll call up The Place right now."
We both laugh about it.
While waiting for our food, we settle on the floor of the living room, with her head placed carefully on my chest. My back still hurts, but I ignore the pain. I play with her twists
"Maduka?"
"Mmh?"
"Don't lie to me again, please. You said you were alright. I saw your arm and got so scared, I wondered how you got hurt and I thought of all the possibly terrible things that could have happened to you."
"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to worry so much. Plus, it isn't that bad."
Oh, yes it is, because I can't touch you the way I want to touch you.
"I know you're in pain. So that's bad. And I wish I could make it stop."
"That's what you're doing right now."
"I swear, you deserve a degree in smooth talking." Her fingers draw lazy circles on my chest, her warm breath makes the fabric of my shirt rub against my skin. I am attuned to these details, absorbing them and marvelling at how close we've become.
"Didn't I tell you, it's in my certificate folder?"
"I wouldn't be surprised."
Suddenly I get this realisation that I want to know everything about Nwanyieze without telling her about myself. And if it ever got to the point where I'm to tell her that it was I who found her in the garbage; I who spent the next three years at her side; I who left her behind to go with another family, would I have the courage? Or would I expertly divert?
I'd left my home without looking back at age seven. I hadn't known where I was going, all I'd known was that I wouldn't be wanted anymore because they were all dead. My parents, my unborn sibling. Did anyone search for me?
"Madi, why is your heart beating so fast now?" she asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. She raises her head to look at my face, hers full of concern. "Am I hurting you? You should have-"
"No." I lock my good arm around her. "Stay right here."
She blinks those big, lovely eyes slowly like a cat, surprised at the tone of my voice.
Now or never. Now or never.
"I'm an orphan. I'm sorry I never told you."
A/N: *in Davido's voice* Good man fall on you! I've missed you guys! Thank you for being wonderful readers and supporters. Thank you for nominating me in the Nigerian Wattys. Keep being wonderful xx.