Ana's POV

"Okay," I turn to smile at him and face the establishment in front of us, the first thing or should I say person my eye catches is Ken as he swerves, likely to check if his car is secured before he walks into the restaurant that reads 'Kilimanjaro'

"Are you alright?" He queries, frightening me as I get lost in thought once again.

"I'm fine," I hum, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"Are you sure?" He implores showing concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I affirm sending him a tight smile as a prickly sensation settles in the pit of my stomach.

"Come on then," he urges, losing the belt and opening his door to get out, banging it after him.
Soon he appears at my side, pulling it ajar. "Ladies?"

"Rekindling old memories I see," I snort, taking his palm as I alight from the vehicle, my heels mounting on the concrete.

"What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic," he concedes, kissing me lightly on the cheek while I react in a blush. "May we proceed?"

"Who am I to refuse the 'Daniel Ikechukwu Okwu' the man who breaks hearts but pampers mine," I say in a mocking manner though I know within me that I'm saying the truth.

"Ah, she finally said the truth for once. Praise be to Jehovah," he relinquishes, his free hand raised to the heavens in thanks.

"Don't get ahead of yourself my dear," I jeer, stretching the demise of the dress I'm donning to cover my exposed thighs, not that I bother but I'm in no mood for the disapproving eyes of people around thus they already see me as a whore, I don't think there's a need for me to keep them talking.

"You know, I'm really loving this our bonding time, but I'm as famished as a lion so can we get a move on?" He compels, motioning to the yellow-painted facility, its name is written in red at the top. Beautiful lilies and daffodils were planted aside the red fence and cars parked close to ours.

"As you please my King," I do a curtsy provoking a laugh to leave our throats in humor.

"You are vibe you know?" He implies, bearing us to the entrance, scents of fresh morning delicacies escaping its open windows and the doors each time someone departs or enters.

"Of course I know," I blurt following his lead. "I'm the one generating it so why wouldn't I?"

"Oh God I can sight your head swelling from this angle," he teases, nodding at the doorman who opens for us to go through.

"Let it swell baby, it deserves to," I assert, beaming like a Cheshire cat.

"Go find us a spot, I'll bring the food," he prompts, letting go of my arm.

"Sure boss," I mock, obeying his order, and walking away, only for me to feel a smack on my ass that causes me and almost everyone in the vicinity to gasp at the action.

"Face your food folks!" He commands and as if his subjects they oblige, going back to their foods as he said and low conversations. He then turns to wink at me. "Save me a seat babe."

The moment he whirls to the counter, all eyes shift to me. Some sitting with their elbows positioned on the colorful plastic tables that rhyme with the same kind of chairs and yellow walls that have splotches of red on them, creating a brilliant itinerary. The rest just pausing in whatever task they were doing to gape at me.

I bow my head to evade their gaze and unhurriedly saunter to a corner that has an open window, granting a vision of the city and aroma of flowers to whoever is seated there.

Noting it as a perfect spot, I stride to the location, peeling the purse from my shoulder to slope on the table and about to produce my phone to provide me company only to discover I left it at home.

"Shit," I groan as I realize this, placing my forehead on the object to prevent screaming in frustration.

"Your demons chasing you yet?" His voice inquires and I lift my head to sight him placing the tray of hot goodness on the table, rather that's not the only thing I see and I curse myself silently for having a long vision. Why? Because I note Ken glaring at me from behind Ike's back, a sneer present on his lips.

"Depends on who summoned them," I murmur, my attention at my stupid malfunctioned Ex, disregarding the man standing opposite me.

"What are you---?" Ike quizzes, nearly swerving to see the purpose of my hard gaze when I stop his words and actions by catching hold of his arm, just in time to bring his interest back to me.

"Don't bother about it," I declare as he sits down. "What do we have here?"

"A plate of fries, two dishes of hot Jollof rice with chicken, salad, and Moi Moi, a juice box, two cups, two spoons and forks," he says, listing everything present in the white flower-designed tray.

"So tell me, how have you and my little one been doing?" He raises a question, positioning my part of the meal on my side while he does the same to his, the plate of fries and juice box standing in the middle so each of us can reach.

"We've been good," I mumble, pausing for a moment to commit the food into the hands of God before I give him the go-ahead to proceed with his as I do the same.

"Wait why are you even asking, you hear from me every day and I keep you up to date with the events that go on every now and then, you've even felt the baby kick, so," I rasp, eyes trained on the meal in my view, having no inkling of the effect my nonchalant words have on him.

"Hearing from you is not the same thing as seeing you and watching your body language as you are doing now," he grits, his manner of speech influencing me to peer at him only to witness his jaw clenching in emotion. "Ana tell me what exactly is your problem. What am I doing wrong? Why am I being treated this way? Why do I get the feeling that I'm forcing myself on you?"

"Ike I--" I start, instead he halts my statement.

"I'm confused Ana, you don't respond when I confess my love for you, that I understand, instead your mood shifts at times leave me perplexed," he mutters, dropping the utensils to ogle me.

"I'm sorry Ike, I'm trying hard but my mind built a defense mechanism to prevent another damage to my heart," I admit guilt, sensing the pain in his utterances.

"What can I do to break that wall? To disable that mechanism?" He interrogates, appearing disengaged and tired. "Because Ana I've tried in my own way and nothing seems to be working."

"I'm sorry," I repeat, hence that's the only solace I can offer him at this moment.

"I know I hurt you, and I mean it when I say I want to make this right but whenever it appears I'm succeeding and making progress, you shut me out, and I'm left banging on the door of your heart," he moans, massaging his temples with his manly fingers, one that has been buried in my folds numerous times.

"Ana, are you even listening?" He jerks me.

"I'm sorry Ike, I just don't know. You put me through a lot that my body sees this as the right way to live, the right way to dissuade whatever heart-wrenching arrows that may be fired at me," I aim to make him understand as I reach out a palm to glide on his wrist and bring it down from his face, catching him shudder at my touch.

"What can I do to alter that?" He begs, eyes consumed with a plea for love.

"I don't know the answer myself Ike, I'm sorry," I sniff, slamming my lids to deter me from gazing into his orbs, our hands intertwining as he clamps mine in his.

"I understand," his sexy voice assures and I open my eyes to see him smiling lightly at me. "We'll work this out together. Whether Emily or the society accepts it or not, I love you okay? And for you, I'm ready to move mountains."

"I trust you," I confess in the heat of the moment before I can do anything about it, rather I don't regret the admission.

"Thank you," he grins, sounding elated. "For trusting me once again, and I promise never to fail you this time."

"Pinky swear?" I urge, sprawling out the specified finger.

"Pinky swear," he grins, latching his to mine and we laugh in unison, diverting our interest to our food as it is still warm.

"Love they say is sweet when you are with the right person, but hell on earth when you are with the wrong person," a voice I despise and always will states, its owner materializing at my side in a smirking form. "I wonder why some people don't understand there's a pure truth in that saying."

"What do you want Ken," I grumble, resentment displaying in every inch of my features as I swirl my neck to watch the infuriating human being at my right.

"Truly Mr. Ken, why did you consider it fit to disrupt our peaceful breakfast?" Ike polls in the exact way I did, tilting his face a tad to gaze at his fellow man attired in a pair of khaki shorts and a multicolored t-shirt.

"No justification whatsoever," he shrugs, a nasty grin on his face. "Simply came over to say hi."

"Well, now you've done that, will you please excuse us?" I urge, not having the volatile stamina to exchange words with him hence I may find myself losing my cool.

"Gladly," he answers and turns to disperse, only for him to cease halfway in his mission, coming back to scowl at me. "You know, when you refused to forgive me, I thought, perhaps, I fucked it up real bad at the time."

"That was because you did," I counter as Ike maintains silence opposite me.

"No that was not the case," he cackles, his round fat cheeks forming balls as they squeeze in laughter.

"Then please, elucidate how I'm wrong," I taunt, assuming I have the upper hand.

"I should have known it wasn't your intention," he ridicules.

"Why?" I solicit.

"Because not a day after, you were pouncing in this man's bed while he fucked you raw in all angles," he grunts, pointing at Ike who sits with an eyebrow raised.

"What can I say, Ken," Ike smirks preparing to jab him. "She loved it, unlike yours that kept slipping out each time you retreated."

"How did you think I got her pregnant?" Ike continues in a query, amusement, and honesty residing in his eyes as he says, "because my tip was reaching the core of her feminity."

"Oh look who decided to speak!" Ken shouts, indirectly calling the attention of every person in the restaurant. "It's the guy who had his whole life set before him, a good business going, a rich father, and most of all an upcoming marriage to the governor's daughter who is as beautiful as the star that shines in the dark."

"I'd rather have a speck that's mainly for me than a star that's for everyone," Ike ridicules, a discreet meaning in his words, one I wouldn't have deciphered if Cecilia hadn't told me about his past.

"It marvels me how people decide to settle for less. I guess that's the problem our nation is facing today," Ken goes on to say.

"Like I settled for you when I could have done better?" I mock, observing him grow angry at my question.

"Don't you---" he starts.

"Dare hoist your palm in her direction for the rest of your entire shameful life!" Ike finishes in a roar, catching the arm that was meant to hit me.

"I'll do that if she ever opens her slutty mouth at me without an iota of respect," he spits, struggling to free his hand.

"If anyone is to be called a slut, it should be you, and you deserve no respect for acting like a dog and sleeping with my bestfriend!" I shriek, hitting my palm on the table as I haul my weight up in defiance, our eyes engaged in an angry match.

"I will---" he starts, aiming to fling his weight in my direction, rather Ike's stronghold gives him no chance.

"Walk away," Ike warns in a deadly tone. "Don't give us a second glance and merely do as I say."

"And what if I don't?" He contests, channeling his rage to Ike who's holding him in place.

"Then you won't like the outcome," Ike states looking hot with his jaw clenched and eyes fierce. "None of us will because I'm easily triggered whenever I haven't finished my morning meal. So I expect you to act mature and do the right thing."

To my surprise he accepts, nodding. Slowly Ike lets go of him and he departs, after expelling a threatening stare in my path.

"I said to face your food!" Ike roars at the bystanders recording and taking pictures of the whole experience. "How many times would y'all like me to repeat myself?"

"Calm down babe, let it go," I advise, stepping to him and wrapping my arms around his midriff. "Thank you."

"No one, not even your father gets the right to touch you in my presence, especially without your consent," he proclaims in a possessive tone, one that grants me mixed feelings, such that I don't give a reply, instead I squeeze him, my head positioned on his chest as the erratic heartbeat brings me a sense of comfort.

I'm screaming in ecstasy 😩💃❤️💃

To get updates about my books.

Please follow me up on
Freshy Gore Writes: Facebook
Freshy Focus: Facebook Page
Freshy Gore: Instagram
Freshy Gore: Twitter
+2348113775889: WhatsApp

Don't forget to tap that little star at the left end of your screen. Thank you😊

Freshy❤