I was unable to publish yesterday due to some technical issue, I apologise for any inconvenience caused. Thank you
CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
Off a cliff
Guilt crushed my soul the moment I opened the door, and I sighed heavily. What the fuck did I just do? She tried to celebrate me in her own little way, and I shat all over her efforts. She didn’t deserve the way I just treated her. That sneaker, Nike Air Max 1 ’86, is one of the latest releases from Nike, super limited and fucking expensive. I know that because I am a Nike ambassador. She must have stayed late into the night to order it on their website, and that is me assuming she didn’t wait in line for hours in front of a Nike store.
I should appreciate her more, I know, but doing that means giving a name to this misguided affection I think I have for her. Things are different now, I can feel it. I see her in a different light now.
Being with her does things to me. My senses become sharper, my thoughts more vivid, even with mundane things. Touching her sends jolts of electricity straight through my veins, and I have started memorizing some of her facial attributes. How she tilts her head in small, almost imperceptible movements, the curve of her smile which always brightens my day, the warmth in her eyes which most times comes out seductively, and the sound of her breathing.
I even started noticing her habits. Her addiction to sugary things, especially Coca-Cola. I don’t think she can go a day without drinking it. Her love for BTS songs, the way her forehead creases when she is worried about something, which is almost every time I am with her.
I always look forward to seeing her because she makes it about me. I don’t have to try so hard to please her. It’s like just existing makes her day. And it’s the same for me; each time I spend with her, I find myself wishing that the sun would not come up and that we should just remain suspended in the moment. It’s like she carries this space that numbs out outside noise for me, where time seems to slow down. Every worry, every distraction, every intrusive thought recedes, leaving just the two of us in a space that feels suspended, serene, almost sacred.
Being in her presence feels like there is a protective hush that shields me from everything loud, everything messy. With her, the world could rage and roar, but in her orbit, I hear nothing but the quiet hum of life, the quiet that makes me feel alive.
I didn’t want this moment to end. I didn’t even want it to pause. I just wanted to exist here, in this charged, humming world, alive because she was there, alive because she had simply looked at me.
While all this is going on, my relationship with Frances deteriorates. It’s like everything she was doing right before suddenly becomes wrong. I had to make sure Alice stopped Bewa from talking to Frances anymore, and I am glad she now has limited contact with Frances. I am trying to get back to where I was with Frances and God knows I am trying but it is not the same anymore. And it does not help when my mind keeps going back to Bewa. It has been a real struggle for me, with every nerve screaming, every thought spiraling.
Move forward!
Stop!
Reach!
Pull back!
It’s endless, a loop that tightens with every second.
Frances is very important to me. I need her. Everything I have built on the pitch and outside the pitch has been with her help. If I give in to my affection for Bewa, I risk falling off a cliff, and I am not sure if I would survive the landing.
So with great difficulty, I moved away from the door and walked downstairs. I turned a corner, and suddenly—
“Surprise!” loud voices yelled, and I was looking into the faces of my family and acquaintances. My chest seized. It was sudden, like a weight pressing down from nowhere, making it hard to breath in. My stomach flipped violently, and my throat tightened, almost closing. My heartbeat spiked, a rapid, erratic thump that echoed in my ears, leaving me disoriented.
What the actual fuck!
I opened the door of my bedroom and banged it on my rear. I threw my phone against the wall in fury and cursed heavily under my breath.
What the fuck was she thinking?
I hear the door open one second, and I am was Frances's face the next second.
“What the fuck was that?” I roared.
“Calm down,” she moved away from me.
“Calm down? Are you fucking serious? After the stunt you just pulled? What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me throwing my boyfriend a surprise birthday?”
“At her place? The one you are throwing this evening is not enough, right? You had to go to her place to show you are important?” I argued fiercely, becoming angrier at how insensitive she was to what she had done.
“That was not my intention. I just wanted to surprise you.”
I scoffed. “Fine, let’s say that was it. Then why did you throw yourself at me? You were all over me.”
“Do I need to remind you that you are my boyfriend?”
“No, she did not know that. In case you forgot, she thinks you are dating Hakimi.”
“Maybe she didn’t hear us. I heard her room is soundproof.”
“Did you not get the same report I did, because Alice told me she found her at the stairs almost in tears?”
In a furrowed expression: “So that is what this is about? You scolding me because your sex buddy cried?”
I moved a few steps back, running my hand through my hair in frustration, and faced her. “Don’t you understand what you have just done? How you have jeopardized the plan?”
“I have jeopardized nothing,” she blurted out sharply. “I keep telling you, we don’t need her.”
I sighed heavily at the sight of a woman I held very close to my heart a few months ago and still do but she is not helping me hold her there. I moved away from her, already fed up with the conversation, but she followed me into the closet.
“You are making me feel like a bad person.”
“Maybe it is because you are,” I let out in a stoic voice, and she opened her mouth and closed it back. She is hurt, and I really didn’t care. She made Bewa cry.
“Then what will you have me do, Kylian?” I looked back at her. Her straight shoulders drooped, and her eyes glistened, her lips downturned.
“How about not doing things that would make someone else cry?” I said with indifference.
“I am suddenly a bad person for trying to fight for you?”
“Fight for me? I am here, am I not?”
She scoffed and exclaimed, “Am I the only person who notices that things are no longer the same between us?” I averted my gaze and shifted. “Are you telling me that you don’t feel the gap between us, a gap that’s been widening ever since you started sleeping with her?”
“Are we back to that again? It’s just once a month, Frances, get over it.”
“Yes, just a month, and I hear you make the best use of it.”
I glared at her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means when was the last time we slept together, Kylian?”
“Wha… what?” I stuttered.
“It means when was the last time we shared a kiss?” she chuckled sadly. “Maybe asking for sex and a kiss is too much from my boyfriend. When was the last time you held me in your arms and just hugged me?”
I couldn’t remember.
At that moment, I realized things between us were more fucked up than I realized.
I sat in the gazebo in my compound, watching the sun go down, irrespective of the preparations going on around me for my birthday party starting in a few hours.
“Kyks,” a voice called out to me, and without looking toward the source of the voice, I knew it was Achraf. He sat down next to me. “Hey, are you okay?”
I gave him no response, really angry with him for not giving me a heads-up about Frances’ latest scheme.
“Frances told me you tore her a new one this morning. Are you extending your anger to me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me what she was up to?” I finally voiced out.
“So you could stop her?”
“Of course,” I blurted out sharply.
He sighed and sat back on the couch he was seated on. “I wanted to give her a chance to fight for you.”
“You guys keep talking like she lost me or something. I am here with her.”
“Maybe, but you and I both know, Frances has lost you. You have just not realised it”
“Come on…” I tried to argue, but he didn’t let me.
“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t try to handle me. I know you. You keep saying it is just sex, but you keep buying her jewelry, you spend time on her blog, reading her stories, and you stopped sleeping with Frances.”
I looked at Achraf in surprise. “Frances told you that?”
“Yes, she was desperate. You starve yourself to have sex for just once a month because you are starting to feel like you are cheating on Bewa with Frances. You and I both know it is already more than just sex.”
I opened my mouth to deny his accusation, but I got nothing. A few minutes later, I finally spoke.
“You are supposed to be my friend.”
“And I am,” he retorted. “I am not doing this for Frances or Bewa. I am doing this for you. You need Frances more than you need Bewa.”
“I know, but it does not feel like it,” I confessed.
“Bewa has nothing to add to you, but Frances does. Do not make the mistake of letting Frances go for Bewa,” he said sternly.
A bitter taste remained on my lips after I got off the phone call with my father-in-law. He had just informed me that he wouldn’t be coming to France again because of the death of his uncle. I really thought I could use the excuse of his visit to spend more than a night with Bewa. Maybe watch movies with her, go out for some ice cream, do something couples do. I guess I won’t get to do that now that they are not visiting.
Maybe I can, if Frances is not aware that they are not coming again, I might still get to spend Christmas with her.
A few hours later, I was packing to go to her place when Frances came in, dancing with excitement.
“You don’t have to go again,” she announced.
“What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion.
“I just got off the phone with Bewa, and I wanted to invite her for dinner with her family.”
“What?”
“I didn’t want to spend Christmas without you, so I invited her to dinner with her family, and she told me her folks are no longer coming because of a death in the family.”
I scrunched up my face in disappointment. Damn Bewa and her mouth.
“I am surprised her father didn’t tell you, or that she didn’t even inform you. I must say she is a vicious fox, trying to deceive you.”
“Still, I promise her. It is her first Christmas in France. I ask for just one day, christmas, we still have time to spend in Ibiza”
She gave me a weary look. “If you go to her, you are telling me that your relationship with her is more than just sex.”
Fuck!
TO BE CONTINUED ON NEXT SATURDAY, 9.00PM WAT.
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