Irehobhude O. Iyioha

He looked at her silently. Then he placed a hand on her nape and brought his face down to hers. When he pulled away from her, he saw her eyes had become soft and fretful. He didn’t know why, of course. He wasn’t sure if it was a reaction from the moment they’d just shared or something else, and was afraid to ask.

Instead, he asked, “So, when do you leave London?”

“Tonight.” Her voice was calm.

His eyes narrowed to a slit before resting on his coffee. She could tell he didn’t take the news well. She looked away, her gaze loitering in the distance.

He wanted to focus on the moment, on their time together. He wasn’t even sure what this was – these feelings and connection, if he could call it a connection – and so wanting more, seeking more, seemed absurd. But the problem was he did want more. He wanted to see her again after today.

“I plan on visiting Nigeria soon.”

“Why?”

“Why? It’s a beautiful place, still feels like home.”

“After all these years, Daren?”

“Well –” He wasn’t sure how much he should say. “– I’m working on a project and would be there for a while.”

It took a few seconds before she spoke again and when she did her voice was terse.

“How long is a while?”

“I don’t know, Ono.” He took a sip of his coffee and licked his lips. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

Her face drooped. She was now twirling a spoon in her drink.

“Is there something you need me to say, Ono? I know this is really – eh, I’m not sure how to say it – moving fast?” He passed a hand over his hair. “But I thought with a major project in Nigeria, we’d be in the same country for a while and could get to know each other better?”

She began to say something, something about the unpredictable life of NGOs, but the phone interrupted her.

“Who is that?” He asked.

She took her eyes off Itan’s name on the screen and sighed. He followed her motions and frowned but didn’t say anything immediately.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Someone in your life?”

“It’s not an issue.”

“What is it, Ono? Tell me – I’ll understand.”

“It’s my sister. There’s no problem. Just a reminder to call some number. Some guy somewhere.”

She excused herself and went into the room. Itan’s paper was still in her folder. He joined her in the room.

“I can leave if you want to make the call right now.”

He looked a bit withdrawn, as if he didn’t know what else to say to her.

“No – no. It’s okay. Just wanted to be sure I still had it.”

“No, it’s fine. You go ahead. I probably need to get back home anyway.”

Ono sighed again and arms folded across her chest, watched him dress.

“There’s no one, Daren.”

He pulled on his shirt.

“There was Bame. He was my husband. He died.”

He stopped dressing and spun around. Of everything they’d chatted about, existing relationships was the one thing they’d both subconsciously avoided.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah – you shouldn’t be. It’s been three years already.”

“Still –”

“But, I won’t be in Nigeria when you arrive.” She freed her hands and approached him. “I’m thinking of setting up shop here.”

He seemed taken aback, but had a good way of screening out some emotions from his face when he wanted to. He reached for her and pulled her close.

“I don’t know what this is, but I’m sure we have a lot to figure out. And we have time. And – ” he added as her phone buzzed again, “– you should pick her call.”

It was a text message this time. Itan was asking how things were going, asking for a ‘full report’. She put the phone away on the table and watched him pick up his briefcase and push his phone in his back pocket. Then, he placed his business card on the dresser and went to the door.

“Would you like me to see you off to the airport later?

“No,” she said.

They locked eyes for a moment. Then, he nodded and walked out the door.

She sat on the bed and held her head in her hands, the sound of the door shutting lingering in her head. Her feet felt leaden as an unfamiliar feeling uncoiled in her stomach. The feeling of emptiness was odd. After three years of staying away from the drama of falling for someone, here she was struggling not to be swept up by the tide. Itan would know what to say to her and how she should handle it. Her voice was teary as she said ‘hello’ to her sister. As she’d expected, Itan was worried about her, but she couldn’t bring herself to relate the whirlwind night she’d just had with a complete stranger.

“You haven’t called the number, have you?” Itan asked.

“I won’t be calling anyone,” she replied.

“You have to. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but in that mood you need someone.”

“No, Itan. I’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t – ”

“Okay!” she said, knowing Itan would have made the call on her behalf. What harm would it do anyway? Only a meaningless two-minute conversation could come of it.

Ono went to the window and punched in the number on the paper. She listened for a response. Two bass rings and a voice said ‘hello’.

“Hello. My name is Ono. I got your number from –”

“Is everything okay?” The voice asked.

“Sure, I – I am fine. I was saying I got your number –”

“I know. But are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I see you were expecting my call –”

“No, not really. But I was hoping –”

“So, Itan said something –”

“Ono? Would you like me to come over? I already stored your number – I know it’s you.”

“Daren?”

“Yes?”

“It’s ‘Dee’ on the paper.”

“What paper?”

“Itan’s paper.”

“Etan –”

“I’m Itan’s sister.”

“Etan? Aitan!”

“Yes, Itan.”

“You’re still in the hotel.”

“Yes.”

“Wait for me.”

“How long will it take you to get here?”

“I never left. I’m – ”

“In the lobby.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I’m coming up.”

“Okay.”

“Good… Wao.”

“Daren?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know about this? I mean you and Itan –”

“No, Ono. No. We’ve introduced each other to friends across both countries.”

“Okay –”

“Never a ritual involved. Never a big deal.”

“Should I be afraid, Daren?”

“No. It’s all okay. It will be.”

“Okay.”

“Hello?”

“Yes?”

“I’m knocking – it’s me. I’m at the door, Ono… I’m here.”

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