WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
MILD SEXUAL CONTENT BELOW, SO, READERS' DISCRETION IS ADVISED
IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS DEVELOPMENT, PLEASE KINDLY SKIP THIS CHAPTER
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
So industrious, proud, respectful, and wary!
I felt it coming, and I was prepared for it because I knew the feeling, but the moment it crept onto me, it was something else. Powerful waves of pleasure took control of my body as I let out a loud grunt. It was like a knot was untied all at once, and all the tension that coiled through me dissolved in a rush of warmth that spread outward, softening every edge.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked down at my partner, who had her eyes closed and was coming down from her own high.
I held onto her, afraid of letting her go. I loved this. I loved doing this with her. She opened her eyes as her heart beat strongly beneath her petite bosom.
“Are you okay?” I inquired, and she nodded. Each time with this woman kept surprising me in ways I couldn’t fathom. I let her down, separating our connection, residual sparks tingling as a result. I held her until she found her balance. Then she turned her back to me, rapidly took her bath, and dashed out of the bathroom without looking back.
Why did she leave like that? Was the sex bad? No, she enjoyed it as much as I did. It felt like she was angry, but why? Is it because I didn't accept her kiss? Why does she not understand that it is just sex? Kissing her makes it more than just sex.
But I couldn’t help the quiet ache I felt at her dismissal. I mean, we just had one of the best sexual experiences, and she just walked out without looking back. I mean…
I walked out of the bathroom and found her hurriedly wearing her clothes. I started creaming my body, and a cloud of silence wrapped around us. Is she seriously angry? Is it okay to leave her for another month mad at me? What should I say?
“Is there anything you need me to get for you?” she broke the silence, something I was grateful for.
“No. If I need anything, I will talk to Alice,” I uttered nonchalantly.
“I brought everything in this closet, not Alice, so if you need anything, talk to me.” Then Bewa insisted more vigorously this time, and having no choice but to let her have what she wanted, I answered.
“Okay.”
“You know you don’t need to go this early. I have a gym here for you if you need it.”
Is she asking me to stay? So, she does not hate me. But what did she just say, she got me a gym?
“A gym?” I questioned in surprise.
“Yes. Alice helped me with it. Every piece of equipment you need is in here.”
My heart skipped in shock, momentarily not believing that she got me a gym to make me stay. A warm, sudden rush of excitement erupted in me, and I really hoped my face was not showing what I was feeling. First, she buys me stuff, and now she got me a gym. I pay people to do these things for me, and she is doing all of it without being told. I was amazed, astonished at the effort this young woman was making to take care of me.
“Thank you, but early morning gym training is not just for training but also bonding with my teammates. I can’t miss it,” I gently let her down.
“Okay, I understand.”
I turned my back to her as I let out the smile I had been keeping.
“So, are you and Marcus good?” she murmured, and just like that, the delight I felt a few seconds ago leaked out.
“What?” I glared at her. Was she seriously asking me about her boy toy? I could feel a restless, gnawing feeling inside me. Is something going on between them? Alice promised me that she would stop anything from developing between them.
“It… ahem… it is just that the media are saying that there is tension between you two. I am just worried,” she struggled to find the words to say.
“Why?” I questioned with annoyance.
“When Neymar was in the club and you guys were fighting, people said a lot of uncool things about you. Forget I asked anything. It is clearly not my business.”
Suddenly, I felt stupid. She was worried about me. Before I could reply, I heard the door open, and she ran out of the closet.
I finished dressing as I focused on Bewa’s discussion with Frances’ mom. My mind went back to Frances and her latest scheme. I sort of blocked her out after I discovered what she did to Bewa yesterday. I am going to have to deal with her.
Achraf was right. I need to tread carefully with Bewaji. If I mess up with Frances, my career is in jeopardy, and no matter how fucked up she has been since Bewa entered the picture, I still care about her.
I came out of the closet when I heard Maria leave, and Bewa hastily left to get some tea after tasting Maria’s overly sugary tea, which I am sure was payback for visiting Bewa.
And for the first time since I had been coming to this room, I finally let myself look around. I walked out onto the terrace, and standing at its edge, my eyes stretched toward the horizon, where the sky kissed the land in a thin, trembling line. The distance seemed endless, a silent expanse that invited thought and wonder. Light played across the edges, soft and shifting, as if the world itself were breathing. For a moment, I was lost in the moment, caught in the quiet pull of something just out of reach, both vast and intimate.
I then looked around. I walked toward the table and sat down. I pulled a laptop, which I assumed was Bewa’s, toward myself. Luckily, it was turned on, and I was looking through it when I heard Bewa call for me.
“I am in here,” I said loudly from the terrace.
Soon, she appeared with a tray, which she placed next to me on the table, and then slammed the laptop shut.
I looked at her in surprise.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be snooping through her stuff, but that was rude.
“I didn’t know you write stories,” I asked.
“I didn’t think it was something to mention since you had a background check done on me,” she shrugged.
I just looked at her, and drew a blank. I didn’t know she was a writer because I didn’t do the background check.... Frances did, with Mother. So I just drew the tray closer to myself.
“What is this?” I asked as I opened the container.
“Toasted bread. I know you said it is early, but you can eat when you are less busy. Maybe share some with your teammates,” she stated.
She was even thinking of my teammates. I took a bite, and I looked at her in surprise and astonishment.
This tastes good.
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I wouldn’t call this cooking,” she shrugged.
I poured myself some tea and sipped, nodding my head and appreciating the taste. I used my leg to pull out the chair next to me, motioning for her to sit. It made no sense for her to stand while I ate.
I opened the file next to the laptop as I ate, and she moved to stop me, but I glared at her. Then she slowly sat back down, letting me do what I wanted. I opened the file and noticed that it was a proposal for a business. I looked at her in amazement.
She was starting a business. I started reading through the proposal word for word, page by page. I was astonished. I mean, I give her a hefty allowance every month; she could just decide to live a soft life. If my admiration for her was 80 percent before, now it was 500 percent.
After a while, I finished reading and closed the document. I should support her; it would be good motivation. So, I picked up my phone and sent her the startup capital she needed. She stood up and went inside.
I love it when a woman is so industrious.
“Thank you for the money, but I don’t need your help. I have it covered,” she uttered.
So she is industrious and proud.
“Really? Where are you going to get that money?”
“You send me money, remember?”
“Oh!” Why wouldn’t she just take my help? “But that is for upkeep.”
“It is more than enough for upkeep.”
“Take the money, Bewaji. I am giving it to you,” I said in a calm voice as I poured myself another cup of tea.
Then she tried to go back into the room.
“Sit,” I ordered in a hard voice.
She let out a heavy sigh and came back to sit next to me.
So industrious, proud, and respectful.
“I love the way you are not just spending my money but trying to make yours. This is my way of supporting you. If you need more, ask for it,” I assured her calmly.
“So, are you using an earthen pond or tarpaulin?” I inquired with curiosity.
“Tarpaulin.”
But why will she choose that?
“Why? The proposal clearly stated that it is much more expensive and more stressful than the earthen pond,” I pointed out in confusion.
“Yes, but I don’t have land.”
“What is wrong with the large expanse of land in this compound?”
“I can’t just deface my land just for a small business.”
So, she is thinks small.
“Do you want it to be small forever?” I asked her, happy to be having a meaningful conversation with her.
“Of course not, but what if it fails?”
So industrious, proud, respectful, and wary!
“If you are starting your business with the mindset that it would fail, then it will,” I advised calmly.
“I don’t want to fail. I am just not getting my hopes high. That way I don’t get hurt,” Bewa blurted out, evidently disturbed by the issue.
“So, what if you fail?” I shrugged. “Are you going to give up?”
“Life is all about risk. You should take the risk. Defacing your land is worth the stress of changing tarpaulin water every two days, and the production cost you would incur if you go with tarpaulin is higher,” I suggested. “But it is your business; you can do whatever you want with it.”
I finished the last toasted bread in the container and emptied the jug of tea.
“I have to go,” I announced.
“When am I seeing you again?”
“Next ovulation,” I said, then took my leave.
I entered my bedroom with Frances on my heels, wearing a furrowed expression.
“Where did you sleep last night?” she questioned me as I moved into the closet.
I scoffed. “Are you seriously asking me that? It is obvious you know. I am sure your mother called you the moment she saw me at Bewa’s place.” I walked around her to put my sneakers on the shoe rack. “What is the point of the inquisition when you know where I was? Are you hoping to catch me in a lie?”
I started removing my clothes.
“Why would you go to her? We don’t need her anymore!” she screamed.
“Yes, we do. Do you have the permit yet?”
“No, but you don’t need to go see her again. We have the embryos.”
I removed my trousers in annoyance as I argued. “The major reason we chose Bewaji was not because of her love or her womb but because of her father. He is a politician. We were going to sponsor him and get him into the National Assembly to make things easy for us. Why are you suddenly going against the plan?”
“We can sponsor someone else,” she suggested.
“No!”
“Kylian…”
“I said no!” I yelped. “We follow the plan.”
I yanked the towel from its handle, wrapped it around my lower body, and went into the bathroom.
TO BE CONTINUED ON NEXT SATURDAY, 9.00PM WAT.
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