𝓛𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼

In a dimly lit, reasonably priced restaurant, I glance down at the slim, silver wrist watch wrapped around my left wrist and sigh almost immediately as the time ticks away towards 7:00 p.m.
 

With its checkered tablecloths and vintage wooden seats, the ambiance emanates a cozy appeal. Still, the comfort is doing nothing to calm my angry spirit.
 

I admit that I dressed elegantly for this ostensibly scheduled meeting with Ubong tonight, but my objective is primarily to demonstrate to him that I am doing well on my own and not to seduce him. That's something he needs to see so he doesn't start blurting out gibberish when he arrives.

 
My fingers are constantly tapping the table as I sit at a corner table. As the minutes pass, my gaze flies to the door with a mixture of annoyance and concern.
 

“I can’t believe I’ve been sitting for over an hour and Ubong is yet to show.” I complain bitterly to myself, but what can I do? Unfortunately, I have to sit and wait patiently for him to show up.

 
The restaurant's guests converse happily, their laughter creating a backdrop to my seclusion. The aroma of cooked meals floated through the air, tantalizing my senses.
 

My phone is on the table; its screen is lit up with a message notification. I look at it grudgingly, thinking Ubong has texted to cancel. I'll be disappointed that I wasted my transport fare to come here, but I'm also not looking forward to meeting him.

 
Surprisingly, the text is not from Ubong but from someone else. Him.
 

I haven't heard from Wale since our last meeting, so I believed he was finally over me. I was mistaken.
 

I puff out a little air as I pick up the phone to read the text.
 

"Hey beautiful, I hope you are having a wonderful evening. My thoughts have constantly been on you, and I really look forward to seeing you again. Please text me back. Or call." It reads. Underneath the text are two heart emojis and a smiley face.
 

"Infant." I mutter, smiling uncontrollably. As simple as the text is, it has managed to instantly steal my thoughts away from Ubong.
 

I read the text a second time before diverting my attention to the lovely pair sitting across from me at the table. I watch them laugh and play in awe, and then I'm transported to my fantasy world.

 
And who else could be the subject of my fantasy?

 
I’m dressed in an expensive red satin gown, and sitting across from me is the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

 
We're enjoying supper in a fancy, darkly lit restaurant. The beautiful, warm glow of candles created a romantic atmosphere in the room, throwing enchanting shadows on our faces.
 

My gleaming brown eyes, filled with admiration and a hint of coyness, hardly left his captivating features. And just by staring, I'm intrigued by his sculpted jawline, appealing eyes, and confident demeanor.
 

My exquisite, manicured fingers fiddled with the stem of my wine glass while I stole glances at him.
 

While I watch him speak, his smile warms me, and his lips softly invite me to caress them. His soothing voice and seductive presence made my pulse flutter and my cheeks flush as I battled to find my words. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear on occasion, a nervous habit that betrayed her shyness.
 

One date with Wale is like a dream come true; what could go wrong? Something I surprisingly look forward to.

 
In front of me is a card, and in the middle of it lies a white rose flower. I open the card and pick up the flower, drawing it to my nostrils and inhaling the heavenly scent.
 

I shiver a little as the scent arouses every dead emotion in me. I can feel the rush of blood from the back of my neck to every part of my body, sending cold chills.
 

I raise my gaze at Wale, who hasn't, for one second, taken his eyes off me.
 

“He’s too good to be true." A voice within me says, “How is it possible that a guy like Wale can be attracted to a lady like me? He is sweet, soft, romantic, and sexy. His voice is silky and sensational; all that clouds my mind right now is having him draw me closer to his bare body, holding me greedily and kissing me selfishly. He can literally take my breath away, and I’ll still be alive as long as I’m in his arms."
 

I open the card; it is written in his own handwriting. And just as I am about to read,
 

“Eno!” I hear a very expected voice, drawing me out of wonderland and back to reality.
 

“Huh!” I reply, moving my head left to right, yet to lay eyes on the caller.
 

“Oh, Ubong.” I finally say, following an unsatisfied sigh.

 
He drags out the chair, which is tugged under the table across from me, and sits, “Ah Eno, mbok kuyat esit. I’ve wasted your time more than I expected because of the meeting I had with my boss in the office.” He apologized in our native dialect.
 

“Mfuna iduhe.” I reply.
 

“Abadie.” He asks slightly, in concern.
 

“Idioke.” I reply with no emotion at all in my voice.

 
“Idem mfo.” He asks again.
 

“Asong.” I manage to smile.
 

“Adiahanyin, ideme?” He asks, putting me off balance.
 

“Idihe eyen fo, ku-ubipub anaenye.” I warn gravely, trying to keep my composure.
 

“Eno I messed up, I know, and I’m sorry. I was too scared to take responsibility.” He bows his head, shaking it in his hands.
 

“You deceived me.” I say angrily to him.

 
“I know and I’m sorry; please forgive me, Eno.” He pleads again.
 

Why is he constantly apologizing? The more he does it, the angrier I get. This man is yet to know the extent of damage he did to me, and I'm sure if he did, he'll know apologizing only makes it worse.
 

“You can’t take my daughter away from me. You lost being her father from the first day you denied her.” I accuse him instantly.
 

“I know, I don’t intend to, and besides, your parents made sure I had nothing to do with her," he concedes.
 

“At least we are on the same page.” I smirk.

 
“Tell me what I must do to make things right.” He begs.
 

This man doesn't just get it. "Please do nothing, say nothing to me, stop calling me, and stop looking for me. Ubong, you are a family man; you don’t want to complicate that.” I advise sternly.
 

“I know, Eno; trust me, I’m aware I’m a family man, but I want to make things right.” He argues. 
 

“Do what I say, and you will make things right.” I just tell him the truth, or what I believe is best for him and for me.
 

“Is that what you want?” he asks to confirm my stand on the matter.
 

I smile and reply quickly, “Yes, please."

 
“But can I see her?” That is the question I did my best to avoid, but a part of me just knows he will ask it.
 

I pause for a while, finding a better reply to give that won’t offend. “You might; if only she agrees to see you, only then will I call you and invite you. I promise, but for now, no.” I explain, hoping I'm clear enough for him to understand my condition.
 

“That’s fair enough,” he says, exhaling deeply but managing to put a little smile on his tired face.
 

“Are we good?” I asked to make sure, seeing how the conversation went without any drama.
 

"Yes, we are," he replies, still smiling. “Can we order now?”
 

"Yes, please; I’m famished.” I smile back, then he signals the waiter.
 

I've not forgiven him; I don't even know how to forgive him. Being polite is the least that I can do. I only hope Ubong does not overstep his boundary.

DIALECT                     ENGLISH
mbokkuyatesit.-        -               -      - - - - Please I’m sorry. 

Mfunaiduhe- - - - - - - No problem

Abadie- - - - - - - - How are you?

Idioke- - - - - - - - I’m fine

Idem mfo- - - - - - - How’s your health

Asong- - - - - - - - fine

Adiahanyin, ideme?- - - - - - How is our daughter?

Idihe eyen fo, ku-ubipubanaenye- - - -Not your daughter, don’t ask about her

1390 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘