Stormy hearts

It was the beginning of a rainy season. The first rain in the new year. As usual, the weather forecast had wrongly predicted a sunny day. It started with a drizzle, startling the passersby. Within minutes, they were shuffling for the nearest stall, the closest shelter, as the rain poured heavily down.

They pushed, shoved and scrambled on their way past. As they did so, Tara tumbled over and fell face first into the dirty puddle, almost choking on it.

“Oh, my…” She bit back the curse at the person who’d presumably pushed her when she saw the figure hovering over her, an umbrella in hand, and his other outstretched towards her.

“Come,” he said, helping her up. “I know a place.”

He was a stranger, for sure, but she was a damsel in distress, and she’d be damned if she didn’t follow him. So, she did.

They entered a café. On the sign above the door was scribbled, in cursive fonts, Kobe’s Café. She knew this place. In fact, she was very familiar with it. And the owner.

The rich smell of brewing caffeine greeted her as she stepped in front of the counter. Then came the familiar ding of the toasting machine along with a waiter calling out in crude pidgin. “Table 3. Your food don ready o.”

He sat her down on one of the stools and brought a napkin of which he used to dab at the mud stains on her grey overall. “Thank your stars you aren’t wearing white.”

That she did. But also began a fascinating perusal of the stranger. He was dark-skinned, his brows pulled taut as he focused intently on his task. His eyes, now flitting between hers and her outfit while his lips moved, asking her if she was fine.

“Korede.”

“Huh?” She lifted her gaze to meet his, which was obviously giving her the same perusal as she’d done.

“You look like you want to kiss me.” His soft drawl sent butterflies crawling in her belly as he licked his lips. She swallowed. “I said my name was Korede.”

“N-nice.” She nodded, looking around nervously until her eyes settled on a familiar face – Kobe. She willed him to come to her rescue before she did something silly, but he was drowned in tending to his customers.

Korede settled in the seat beside her. “So, when are you going to tell me your name?”

“Tara.” Her replies were almost a whisper as she rose from her seat and headed towards the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m coming.”

                                                                       *

In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face, as if willing it to wash away the flurry of emotions enveloping her. Around him, her heart worked in rapid beats, nervousness enveloping her and surprisingly, she kind of liked it. Korede, whoever he was, intrigued her.

Later she would learn he was a tech guy, who worked remotely and loved to work and chill outdoors. His parents were the average Nigerians who ran a well-to-do business and doted on their second son, especially for his independence and financial stability.

She dried her face and headed out only to bump into Korede. She startled, and almost tripped but he reached out and grabbed her.

Time stood still. His arms wrapped around her, mapping her physique, his gaze lingered on her, tracing every intricate detail in silent admiration. Her knees buckled under his perusal. Her heart thudded behind her chest, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Then, he inched closer. She closed her eyes, imagining his lush lips press against hers. A beat passed. Two. Then, slowly, her eyelids opened. Her gaze finding the smirk curving on his lips. Hot embarrassment flushed her cheeks, as realization dawned on her. She stiffened in his grip.

When he released her, he cupped her face. “I like your eyes. They are so blue. Are they real?”

“No.” she averted her gaze as her skin tingled under his close scrutiny. “They are contacts. My glasses broke last week.”

“Ah.” They walked back to their table. It felt like the moment he would ask her out on a date and get her number. Instead, he flashed a smile that bared all of his teeth. “It’s nice to meet you, Tara.” And without so much as a proper goodbye, he turned and left.

                                                           *

“Bummer.” Kobe tsked, strutting towards her. “Korede na big goat.”

“You know him?” Tara shook her head and amended. “You were listening to us?” She wanted to say more, to scold him for not coming to her rescue, but she let it slide.

She’d been friends with Kobe since secondary school. He’d joined in the middle of the school term when his family had moved to Nigeria from South Africa after their business incurred a major loss.

 “Well…” Kobe shrugged. The rain had now stopped, and those who’d trooped in for shelter had started to disperse, some had bought nothing. His shoulders slumped. “And there’s that.”

Tara rubbed his shoulders. “It’ll be better. You’re doing very well already.”

“Naso.” Kobe scrunched his nose. “You’re a bad motivational speaker.” He signaled to the waiter who brought two glasses of drinks.

“But a great supporter.”

“That, I agree.” He raised his glass, and she tipped hers to it. “So, about Korede…. I really don’t know, but I’ll talk to him sha.”  

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “If you want to.”

He raised his brow, studying her and trying to make out her features. Her stiff posture, her furrowed brows, and her pouted lips, her thumb rubbing against them, enunciating her pensiveness. He contemplated making a jibe about it or asking her right away. Before he could decide, he was summoned by his staff, so he patted her arm instead. “Love you, Tara. Take care.”

                                                                       *

The following days were busier than usual. She had to take on long classes at the university, filling in for a sick colleague. To make matters worse, when she finally arrived at her favorite restaurant, it was fully booked and almost out of food. The day couldn’t get any worse.

As she turned to leave, her gaze landed on a familiar figure. Her stomach clenched.

Korede.

He was seated at a table, his hand clasping a woman’s wrist, his thumb idly stroking her fingers.

Oxygen drained from her lungs. She suddenly couldn’t breathe. It annoyed her how weak she was, over someone she barely even knew.

She willed her legs to take her out of this place. It’d ceased to be her favorite place.

“Tara!”

She was already out the door, hailing a cab, and as it rolled away from the curb, she couldn’t help observe his tense features. But she didn’t care. Shouldn’t care.

Upon reaching home, she did the one thing a silly woman would. Cry. How had she turned one moment of kindness from a stranger into a string of unresolved feelings?

Her phone pinged, and she glanced at her email to see the one thing she’d been working toward—her promotion project. A future-defining moment.

                                                                       *

She refused to let thoughts of Korede flood her mind, not at this time. She had an upcoming project at the university, and she’d be damned if she allowed thoughts of a random stranger mess it. If she passed, she’d be promoted to full-time staff. And that’s what she vied for.

It’d been over a week since their near kiss. Not that she didn’t want it, but he’d acted nonchalant about it all. Like she was the one desperate for him.

Operation: Forget Korede. Status: SUCCESSFUL.

She’d just concluded her class with the Economics students at the University of Lagos. She reported to her senior lecturer – Mrs. Lara, who’d been so kind to employ her after she graduated from the school.

After a quite stressful day, she went to Kobe’s. She set up her laptop on one of the corner tables, and scattered her files over them, organizing her big project with Microsoft.

Her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, sleeves rolled up, she began multi-tasking. She propped her phone between her ear and shoulders, barking out orders to someone about an analysis report. While she listened to the person at the other end, she sipped coffee and reviewed the previous report while typing slowly on her system.

“Ahem.” In a serene environment, the throat clearing would have startled her. But there was nothing serene about the chaos that was her surroundings. The analysis was taking too long, her table was scattered with papers and she had no intention of clearing them up to accommodate anyone else.

“Please go to the next table, abeg.” She said without looking up. “This one isn’t vacant.”

“Kunle,” She hissed, annoyance creeping into her voice. “If you can’t do your job well as an analyst, let me know so you won’t waste my time.”

She listened to his ramble for a while then sighed. “Which report again na? I’m checking every….” She trailed off as she ruffled the papers on her table, sending some flying to the ground.

“You’re stressing me o.” She bent to pick the papers. “You better not sleep this night and work on this report, or else….” Her threat died on her lips. As she reached for the last piece of paper under the desk, a hand caught it before her. She then looked up to meet the dark brown eyes of the man she’d sworn affected her no more.

She jumped, bumping her head under the table. He rounded the table, rushing to her aid but she was already out, slightly rubbing her head. She whispered into the phone, her previously stern tone wan. “Kunle, I’ll call you back. Please do your job well.”

“Always a klutz, I see.” As she hung up, Korede sighed, handing her papers back to her.

Amidst the frenzying thud of her heart threatening to betray her, she said. “Thank you.” Then, resumed her seat and continued working like he wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry.” His voice finally said. When she looked up, uncertainty splayed across his face as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. A hint of nervousness.

Her gaze was unwavering. “For?”

“Ghosting you.” He took her hands, his eyes welling with contrition. “In truth, I cowered and fled. You’re unlike the women I’ve previously been with. You’re like gold – precious, rare – something I’m scared to tarnish.” His Adam’s apple worked in a hard swallow. You also ignored me at…”

Her eyelids fluttered. She was taken aback but resorted to a petty retort. “I wouldn’t want to disrupt your lovely date.”

“Date?” Korede scratched his low-cut hair. “Oh, no. That’s a misunderstanding. That was my little sister.”

“But you didn’t reach out before or after then. Why should I believe you?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been nervous about you.”

“No. You’re here now, because I’m just a convenience.”

He was taken aback by the defiance in her eyes, the hurt which she’d now masked with a smile. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, but confusion got the better of him.

Finally, he gave into resignation. “I like you. Did, from the first day we met.” He swallowed, contemplating his next question. “Do you?”

Indecision flickered in her mind. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t ghost her again, no proof he was trustworthy. Her eyes locked onto his—calm, patient, waiting. Her answer would determine their fate.

So, she did what most people did. Followed her heart.

Had he blinked, he’d have missed her slight nod. Two beats passed before she quietly answered. “Yes.”

“Then, go out on a date with me?” His eyes bore into hers, pleading. “Let’s start over. Get to know each other.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but words betrayed her. What if he stood her up? She looked up into his eyes, a mix of emotions – hope, even fear lined his pupils. Perhaps, he’d truly liked her and missed her in the days of no communication.

“Yes.” Her words were hesitant, before she finally looked up into his eyes, conviction in hers. She repeated. “Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His stiff shoulders now relaxed, his brows straightened, and his lips curved into a smile as he kissed her hand, pulling her out of her chair and into a hug. “Thank you.”

He kept whispering, then breaking the hug, he tilted her head and parting her lips with his, drove his tongue into her mouth. As his lips met hers, her mind rebelled, conjuring thousands of reasons she should pull away – his absence, her doubts, the ache of longing she didn’t realize still thrived within her. But his mere presence was intoxicating, the quiver of his lips as it worked its way unto hers, the warmth of his skin as he embraced her. Everything felt so true. And so, she kissed him back.

 They shared a defiant kiss. One that expelled weeks of emotions, of absence, into it. One that didn’t care who watched or criticized them, or yelled “get a room” at them. Because their hearts, frantic as they were, synced.