After the storm (39 page)

The
doorbell rang. She wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and headed
towards the front door. It had to be Deji. He had called earlier
and said that he would pop by when he learnt that she was cooking.
He absolutely loved her stir-fried rice.

"Hey!"
Deji smiled when he came in.

"Hey,"
Yemi said, smiling back at him. She locked the door behind him.
"Right on time. I just finished cooking."

"Great!
I deliberately haven't eaten anything all morning." He put the
bottles of wine he had brought with him on the table. Yemi thanked
him.

"There's
plenty to eat, and you can also take some home with
you."

"Thanks,
honey," Deji replied, giving her shoulder a squeeze as she went
past him into the kitchen.

They set
the table together. Like she had told Deji, there was lots to eat.
Grilled fish and chicken, stir-fried rice, vegetable salad, and a
nice dessert she had whipped up that morning.

"Very
tasty as usual," Deji complimented her as they began eating. He
took another forkful. "I don't mind having this every
Saturday."

Yemi
just laughed. After lunch, they washed up together and then moved
into the sitting room.

"This is
the life!" Deji sighed contentedly as he relaxed on the sofa. "Good
food, great company. What more can a man ask for on a
weekend?"

"What
more indeed." Yemi smiled at the expression on his face. "I've got
this DVD that Dotun lent to me," she said, getting up. "Let me get
it." 

She
slotted it in the DVD player, and soon they were engrossed in the
movie—or so she thought, until she looked towards Deji and saw that
he was looking at her and not the movie.

"You
don't like the movie?"

"I got
distracted, but I think I prefer this view." He smiled as she
averted her face. "You're so beautiful, Yemi. I could look at you
every day for the rest of my life and not get tired."

"C'mon,
Deji, let's watch this movie, it's really very
interesting."

"Yemi,"
Deji replied, taking her hand in his and refusing to let go of it.
"Look at me."

She
looked up for a second, saw the tenderness smouldering in his eyes,
and looked away. She sighed inwardly. Why did he want to spoil a
perfectly good day? "I'm listening to you," she replied.

"Yemi, I
love you. You know that, don't you?"

She kept
looking down at the carpet as Abby's words came back to
her.

"I've
known you for over eight months now, and I love you more each day,"
Deji said earnestly. "But it's pure torture being close to you and
yet not being able to say confidently that you are
mine."

Yemi
didn't know what to say. She tried to pull her hand away from
Deji's grip, but he would not let go. "Deji, I'm not ready for what
you are asking for. I'm still married, remember?"

"But can
you not give me some assurance that you will be mine someday?" he
pleaded.

"I'm not
ready for that, Deji. I still have too much to deal
with."

"Then
let's deal with it together, I know that you've been hurt and that
you're scared that it could happen again, but I'm not like
that."

"People
who are hurting often hurt other people," Yemi replied, finally
managing to disentangle her hand from his. She stood up. "I don't
want to hurt you. You had a perfect marriage. I had some bad
experiences. I wish I could say that I've risen above them, but I
know I'm still trying to get back to being the woman that I used to
be."

"But I'm
not complaining…"

She
smiled wryly. "You don't complain, but I know I hurt you at times
with my mood swings." She looked at his face. "How long do you
think you can continue to deal with that?"

"Yemi,
listen to me," Deji said. He came over to where she was standing
and put his hands on her shoulders. "I know it's going to be a
process to get you to trust me, and as much as I'd love to marry
you tomorrow, I know it's not possible, and I'm prepared to wait.
But I just need some assurance from you that you will be mine
someday."

"Deji,
don't…" Yemi replied, detaching herself from his hold and hating
herself when she saw the pain in his eyes. "You're a good man, but
not for me. Not now anyway. You deserve more."

"Honey,
let me be the judge of that." He tried to take her hand again, but
she didn't let him. "Please, Yemi, give us a chance."

"I
can't." All the cheeriness she had been feeling earlier had fizzled
out. "I knew this was going to happen. That is why I tried so hard
not to get involved with you." She turned towards him. "This has
got to stop."

"What do
you mean?"

"We have
to stop seeing each other. There's just no point to it." She turned
away as he tried to stand in her way.

"Yemi,
please don't do this," he pleaded. "Don't just give up on us like
that." He continued trying to talk her out of her decision but her
mind was made up.

"I'm
sorry but it feels like I'm just stringing you along and I don't
think that's fair on you." She looked at him. "I'm really sorry,"
she apologised again before turning back to the window and staring
with unseeing eyes at the lawn outside.

He stood
without moving for a few minutes. She refused to turn around. Her
back remained turned to him until she heard him leave. She felt
tears coming to her eyes and didn't bother trying to stop them. She
knew she had hurt him, and she felt sorry about it, but she was
also crying for herself.

Akeem
had moved on. He was in a steady relationship and, by all
appearances, was having the time of his life. But here she was,
sending away a decent guy who loved her so much. Was she going to
spend the rest of her life alone? Lonely but too scared to trust
again?

She felt
confused as tears continued to run down her face. Maybe she should
have kept Deji around and hoped her feelings would develop with
time. But that wouldn't be fair to him. Even the cheating Akeem had
complained about her coldness and lack of emotional responsiveness
to him after she lost the baby.

That
coldness was still there, encapsulating her heart. It was like
protective antibodies developed to give her some level of immunity
against men and their wiles but unfortunately, it also swung into
place for a seemingly nice and harmless guy like Deji, and she
didn't know how to selectively deactivate it.

∞∞∞

The next
few days passed by slowly for her. She refused to take Deji's calls
and did not reply to his text messages. She knew she was not going
to change her mind and blamed herself for not being firm enough
with him from the beginning.

But what
was more frightening to her was that it was not just Deji—it was
about men in general. She did not think she could ever trust any
man again, but she was still so young, and life seemed to stretch
bleakly in front of her. She had thought success in her business
would bring her fulfilment, but she had achieved some measure of
success and yet there was still such hollowness within her. An
emptiness she could not fill. As she meditated on those thoughts,
she found herself depressed again and wishing she had never met
Akeem.

By
Thursday that week, she felt physically ill. Her head and heart
ached, and her insomnia returned with a vengeance. The woman in the
mirror confirmed she looked awful. At midday, she handed the
affairs of the office over to Ken and left.

She took
some painkillers when she got home and dropped onto the sofa. She
hoped she would be able to fall asleep. Kufre was away on holiday,
and she would have to go pick Aleena up later, but that was a few
hours yet.

She was
surprised about an hour later to hear her doorbell ring. She
ignored the bell, but it kept ringing. Finally, she dragged herself
to the door and was surprised to see Sesan on her
doorstep.

"Shez,"
she said wearily. "What are you doing here at this time of the
day?"

"I had
to see a client in the neighbourhood around your office. I dropped
by your office afterwards and was told that you had left early
because you were not feeling well. What's wrong with
you?"

"I'll be
fine, Shez," she said, looking away from his concerned eyes. She
raked her fingers through her hair. She knew she looked like a mess
and felt like it. "I just need some rest."

"Is that
why you've been crying?" he asked gently, looking at her puffy
eyes. "I thought we said no more tears?"

"I'm
just so tired. I've tried so hard to be happy." Tears started
running down her face as she spoke. "But my life is so empty. Just
empty and bleak."

"Hush,
Yemi, don't speak like that. What or who has upset you?"

She
dragged in a shaky breath and told him about Deji. "But am I going
to remain like this for the rest of my life?" she asked, trying to
wipe her eyes with the handkerchief that Sesan had given her. "I
have nightmares where I see myself old, haggard, and all alone. And
in some of those nightmares, even Aleena rejects me and blames me
for everything that happened between me and Akeem."

"Yemi,
those dreams are a playback of what you've been thinking. They're
not real," Sesan replied, stroking her hand gently. "I've told you
that your thought process has got to change."

"I know
that, but I never imagined that my life would be like
this."

Sesan
continued to stroke her hand as she sobbed. She could hear him
praying quietly under his breath until her tears abated.

"Yemi, I
know that you may not believe me, but you're going to be
okay."

Yemi did
not respond and just looked forlornly into space.

"You'll
be just fine," Sesan said. "Where's Kufre?"

"She's
away on holidays."

He was
silent for a moment before speaking again. "Mmmm…you know what?
There is a concert taking place at my church tomorrow evening,
and I want you to come along."

Yemi
shook her head. "I'm not in the mood for a concert, and certainly
not in a church."

"I'm
really not asking you, I'm telling you," he said firmly and then
smiled when he saw her expression. "I am older than
you, remember? You've got to respect your elders."

It was
an old joke between them. He was one month older than her and never
let her hear the end of it, but in her present mood, even that
could not elicit a smile from her.

She
frowned slightly. Her head still ached. The painkillers did not
appear to have worked, or probably it was because she had been
crying. "And you think a concert at your church will make me feel
better? Forget it, Shez."

"One
step at a time, honey," Sesan said, continuing to stroke her hand.
"The music is relaxing, and the atmosphere will be soothing for
you." He smiled at the expression on her face. "C'mon Yemi, it'll
not do you any harm."

"I don't
feel like going to any concert."

"Like I
said, I'm telling you, not asking you," Sesan replied.

Yemi
shook her head. The last concert she had attended was at the London
O2. She had gone with Akeem to see Jayzee live. It had been a good
show, but she was not in the mood for anything like that at the
moment.

"That
was just entertainment," Sesan replied when she told
him.

She
continued to argue with him, but it was obvious that Sesan had made
up his mind and was not taking no for an answer. He was even more
insistent because he was aware that she was going to be alone in
the house the next evening. Aleena would have gone to Akeem's place
by then. Yemi finally agreed reluctantly. She was not really
looking forward to staying alone, either. Her thoughts were so
morbid that she was almost scared of them now.

"Now
that we have that settled, what has her ladyship eaten today?" he
asked.

"I'm not
hungry."

"Really?
Then just wait until this chef rustles something up to tempt your
taste buds," Sesan said, pulling her up from her seat. "But I need
you to sit with me and show me where everything is."

"Don't
you need to be back at the office?" Yemi asked, following him into
the kitchen.

"Not
really." He grinned. "I'm meant to work on my report from home.
I'll do that when I get home."

He tried
as much as he could to keep Yemi engaged for the period that he was
there. Whenever he noticed that she was about to lapse into a moody
silence, he would try his best to distract her. He drove her over
to Aleena's school to pick Aleena up and then stayed with them
until late in the evening.

The
following evening, Yemi grudgingly got dressed for the concert at
Sesan's church. She had tried to call and cancel during the day,
but after trying Sesan's line several times without any success,
she knew that he was one step ahead of her. She sent him a text
message telling him that she could not make it to the concert. He
ignored the contents of her text and sent her a "See you later at
six thirty" reply.