Ola:
By 3:00 pm, I am parking my car on the parking lot of Ikeja City Mall, aka ICM. The shopping complex houses a Genesis Cinema, a Mr. Biggs, a KFC, Cold Stone Creamery- one of my favorite places to go to- and a plethora of other fast food outlets. There are also high-end stores like Mango, Woodin, Mac, and BlackUp. And then, there's the huge Shop Rite, where almost everyone who walks through the gates of Ikeja City Mall ends up. Because the shopping mall is just a fifteen-minute drive from where I live, I frequently come here for some snacks or beauty supplies from Casa-Bella.
Murmuring an apology to the woman who approaches me, I walk from my car to the building. The ICM parking lot is a place to meet all sorts of beggars- corporate, casual, you name it. The last time I'd been here, a woman had conned me of two thousand Naira by showing me three children seated at the back of her car, supposedly hers. She had said she ran out of fuel unexpectedly and needed help to get some for the drive home. Sympathetic, I had given her money before going into the mall. What surprised me afterwards was seeing her talking to another person two hours later, at another part of the parking lot, with the same poor children in the same car. I'd shouted, "Madam, e never do you? You no dey tire?" before driving off, shaking my head.
After buying two tickets for myself and Saheed, I decide to enjoy a quick cup of Cold Stone before Saheed shows up. In a few minutes, I get myself a small-sized cup filled with Sweet Cream Bailey's, one of the most wonderful things to ever exist on planet earth. Seated at the food court, my mind drifts off to Saheed. Was I too forward, inviting him on this movie date? So, it's a date. I suppose. Oh, the way he had laughed! I could see him in my mind while we spoke over the phone a few days ago, his teeth flashing, his eyes alight with amusement. I can remember how nervous I felt, wondering if he would think I was being a nuisance. And then the relief I felt when he'd said, "Wait, I'll take that. Date, time?"
The truth is that I miss him. I can't explain how he's gotten under my skin without even trying, how the sight of him excites me, how I crave his presence these days.
It must have been the sex. Maybe it's hooked me...temporarily?
But I know otherwise. Saheed is...passionate even without attempting to. Passion in his looks, his words, his actions, his silence. His spontaneity, his energy... The first time we met, I'd seen it even when he was dead drunk. I'd felt it when I walked back into his suite after saying I was leaving that night because of the things he said. I'd felt it when he'd agreed to pretend to be my fiancé for two weeks.
I can be very charming. Let's hope you're immune, for your own sake, he had warned me.
I mentally facepalm myself and roll my eyes. He did warn me, and now look. Just look at my life. I have gone to bed with him and what's worse, developed some form of affection for him despite my common sense. And now, I am dragging him on movie dates, willingly grabbing every opportunity to be with Saheed. I find myself scanning to crowd of passersby for him. But I realize that Saheed would have called if he were on the way. Upon dialing his number, I get a prompt that his line is busy. Maybe he's trying to call me, too.
But after waiting for a few more minutes, no call comes in from him. Brushing off the uneasy feeling, I dial his number again. Unavailable. I check the time: five minutes to the start of the movie; we should be queueing up at Genesis Cinema by now. My phone beeps, distracting me from my worry. A message from Saheed:
I'm sorry, I can't make it. Emergency.
Instantly, my excitement dies off, deflating like a balloon. Standing at the entrance to the cinema, I scan the crowd, wondering what to do with my extra ticket. Fortunately for me, I overhear the woman at the counter telling a teenage girl that the cinema is full for the 4pm movie. I approach them, forcing a smile.
"Hello. Would you like a free ticket to see the movie?" I ask the girl.
She gives me a suspicious look, her eyes analyzing me and my intentions. "Why?"
I shrug ad hold up Saheed's ticket. "My date cancelled."
"Oh, that's so unfair. I'm sorry."
"Life happens. Go on, I'm not charging for it. It's for dash."
She accepts the ticket and jumps excitedly. Suddenly she stops, rearranges her face into a contrite expression and laughs nervously. "Thank you. I'm not sure I'm supposed to celebrate this? I mean, your plans went sideways and I'm benefitting from it."
I laugh. "It's no biggie, really."
"Males are something else, aren't they?" she jokes. "Even the boys at my school, some of them can fuck up." She slaps a palm over her mouth when she realizes that she has used a swear word.
This makes me laugh some more. "I'm not your mother, you're safe. Enjoy the movie, okay?"
"Okay, thank you Aunty!"
"You're welcome." I give her a wave and join the queue, leaving her at the counter as she makes a phone call, probably to tell her friends about the disappointed aunty who dashed her a free ticket to see the latest Marvel movie because her date dumped her.
Before I step into the viewing room, I type a quick text.
Thanks for the heads up. Rather timely.
***
It is barely thirty minutes before I leave the cinema. Saheed's absence had distracted me, and it was hard to tell if the couple necking each other right beside me had made me uncomfortable or envious. Why couldn't they get a room instead of buying seats in a cinema and stuffing their tongues down each other's throats? Well, that could have been Saheed and I, I tell myself with a rueful smile as I stand on the escalator descending to the ground floor. Highly likely, as I get the urge to touch him every time I see him. And his kisses... They leave my head spinning.
Again, I get the sinking feeling in my belly. Saheed really did stand me up for something we had planned days before. Something I had looked forward to. What could have possibly come up? Did he change his mind, realize that being close to each other would take us down that path once again? Did he tell himself that this was all a plan to end up in bed with him again? Or is he over it all but doesn't want to appear rude by bluntly saying no? Shame makes my face burn when I remember how he had explained to me that it was all transactional to him.
But he said... He said he wanted to wake up beside you every morning.
I laugh aloud at the absurdity of it all, startling the woman and her toddler beside me. Apologizing, I walk past them into Shop Rite. A good bottle of red wine will help me ease tonight's sad reflections. To my surprise, I spend about thirty minutes aimlessly wandering the aisles of the store, examining items of no importance.
The last time Saheed and I had been here together with Nonye, he had pulled me over to the condoms section and asked me which brand I thought would be more pleasurable. Next thing, we were looking at different packets and laughing like excited teenagers doing something we weren't supposed to be doing. Nonye had snuck up on us and we had been startled, looking guilty like we weren't adults with the right to sex lives.
"What plans are you guys making now?" she had asked, feigning an annoyed look, but sparing me a wink.
"We're just looking around," I'd replied, embarrassed as I could be.
"You should try the ribbed ones. Intense sensation," my friend had said.
"Nonye!" I had hissed, lowering my head.
"Aha," Saheed quipped. "Ola and I like the glow-in-the-dark-ones, don't we, darling?"
I'd wanted to sink under the surface of the earth. Up till that point, all Saheed and I had shared were a few pecks and kisses mostly for the benefit of Nonye and her doubts, but there he was, acting like we had the most exciting sex life.
Another reason you fell for him. His spontaneity.
It is dusk by the time I get home. Letting myself into my apartment, I take off my sneakers and move towards the kitchen, bent on drowning this aching loneliness in wine. It takes me twenty minutes to wipe off my make-up, change to more comfortable clothes, heat up some left-over pizza, and settle down on the floor of my living room with my food and wine. I open my Instagram app and see that Nonye had sent me a direct message over an hour ago with instructions to read the comments. It is about a post by an Instagram blog. In the picture, Saheed and I are walking hand-in-hand in the glare of bright camera lights. I remember the green jumpsuit, his black outfit, the bruise on his face.
It was the after-party for the SME Fair, right after David and Saheed had fought. Somehow, someone's camera had caught us sneaking out through the entrance, looking over our shoulders. The caption reads, "Our sources say that Saheed Bello and David Chukwueke got into a fight at the SME Fair after-party over a week ago. Ola Matthews, one of the Matthews heiresses, was seen leaving with him that fateful night. What could have been the reason for the altercation?"
The question obviously left room for speculations in the comments section. Some of them are outright funny:
It's obvious Saheed won.
He's going home with his prize. See fine girl.
Abeg how this gist take concern us? Mtshew...
I'd fight over her, too. Lol.
Nonye and I laugh over the comments and I tell her what had transpired that night, leaving out the reason for David and Saheed's fist-lock. We catch up on the latest events. She is in a new relationship, has gotten a new job, and has moved into a new neighborhood. She asks about Saheed and I. I reply that we are still friends, and she send me a frowning emoji.
He is your man; I don't care what you both think. You're both too blind to see what's so obvious, she sends me.
Could you please chill? I reply, adding the laughing emoji to sound less annoyed.
If you like, vex till next year, ode. Good night.
Just as I am about to start a new episode of Blacklist on my laptop, my phone rings. My heart starts to beat irregularly. Saheed is calling. I pull in a deep breath before sliding the green button.
"Hello?"
"Ola."
"How are you?"
"I'm sorry."
His voice sounds strained, tired. It is low and coarse like there is something lodged in his throat.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.
I hear him sigh. "I'm in Ogun State. My sister gave birth and went into a coma. Lost a lot of blood, too."
I gasp in shock. "I'm so sorry about this, Saheed. How is she?"
"Stable. The doctors said she just went off like a switch the moment the baby was brought out. He's doing okay, himself. Strong little fellow." He gives a little laugh at the mention of his nephew.
"How are you, yourself?"
"I'm doing fine. I was just in time to donate blood for a second transfusion."
My heart feels like it is swelling, and my chest won't be enough to accommodate it. I had the guts to feel angry with Saheed for cancelling our plans at last minute. I'd left no room for thoughts that maybe, just maybe, there was an emergency like this. I'd been bold enough to doubt him. My throat clogs and I sniff, internally cursing myself.
"I'm the one who should be sorry, Saheed."
"Oh? What did you do, replace me with a man not as good-looking as I am for our movie date? Ola, I know I don't deserve this na."
I laugh through my unshed tears. "Must you be funny?"
I imagine him smiling, the kind that reaches his eyes and lights those amber pupils up. Those needles used for blood donations come to my mind and I shudder, imagining it slipping into one of his arm veins.
"What about your Dad?" I ask.
"I've convinced my old man to book a room in a hotel for some much-needed rest. It wasn't easy."
I can't fathom the emotional strain. They lost Ibrahim all those years ago, and this must be like reliving the experience.
"Won't you rest, yourself?"
"Ola, I can't even close my eyes. It's like if I do...she'll be gone," he confesses. I hear the unspoken part: just like Ibrahim.
"I wish I could do something to help," I murmur.
"Speaking with you is enough. I've wanted to hear your voice all day."
I feel my insides turn to mush as my mouth goes dry like cotton. I hear Saheed drag in a breath. Unable to speak, I say nothing, gripping my phone and waiting for my gut to solidify.
"Ola? Are you there?"
"Mmm."
"I miss you. And I mean it. I was looking forward to spending time with you today. It was supposed to be the highlight of my week. Hell, it was all I could think of all week."
I think my whole body may be melting, now. I gulp, fearing that my grip may crack my phone.
"Why are you suddenly dumb? Where is the spitfire Ola I know?" he demands with a chuckle.
"I know you're good at unbalancing me, but this takes the cake, Saheed."
His laughter makes me laugh, too. "I miss you, too," I confess. "And I feel terrible that I could be mad at you for not showing up today."
"Oh no, don't feel bad. I like it when you show concern. It excites me."
"Spoken like a true player, I see."
"I mean it. Ola, have a good night's rest."
"I will. You should, too. You need your strength. And Saheed?"
"Yes?"
"Amina will wake up. I'm certain."
"I'm comforted by this. Thank you, Ola."
"Good night."
"Good night."
He clicks off and for a few minutes, I sit still, sipping my red wine.
I miss you.
Three words. Three words, and my world is shaking, butterflies are in my belly, and I can't tell if it's the wine that is making me feel lightheaded. I lay back on the floor, the rug feeling like clouds. The wine must be kicking in, because everything suddenly feels soft. I giggle like a school girl, stretching my limbs and grinning up at the ceiling.
Somehow, I sleep off right there, abandoning my food and the episode I was supposed to watch.
Bloody red wine.
A/N: Hello darlings, it's been a while. I hope you're all safe and sound. I am pretty sure you were expecting another chapter from Saheed, yes? Don't worry! It's coming up. Thank you for reading, and don't forget to vote!