That evening, when Raymond came wanting to have sex, I tried. I tried to give him everything, to summon the same fire Gregory had lit in me that afternoon. But all I did was compare. My mind betrayed me, chanting Gregory's name repeatedly. Whatever satisfaction I once longed for with Raymond was gone.
The next morning, when Raymond decided to drop me at the shop, I didn't go in. Instead, I turned and walked straight towards the office building I had seen Gregory enter the day before. I told myself it was foolish, but hope dragged my feet forward.
That was how I found out his full name: Gregory Francis. CEO of an automobile company. An office cleaner with a porous mouth told me, just like that.
"I'll be here waiting," the air whispered, as if repeating his promise. And I believed it. I hailed a taxi and told the driver where to take me.
"Didn't you think Natasha might be at home?"
"Yes, I did, Officer. I knew she could have been there. But I couldn't help myself."
I needed him. I needed to feel the strength of him again, his hands roaming my body, his teeth against my neck, his tongue drawing fire down my skin. Even if it was the last time, my body hummed for him, alive with hunger that only he could answer.
This time around we ended up in one of Natasha's bedrooms. And, it was not gentle. It was desperate, like two people drowning and clinging to each other. We devoured one another until there was nothing left, until I was limp in his arms, breathless, undone.
As we lay there, I whispered, "I went to your branch office today."
He turned his head. "My branch office?"
"Yes. From outside, no one would spare it a glance. But inside… it was grand."
He gave a soft grunt. "Hmm. You must have met Magi."
"The name suits her," I murmured, watching him. "And yes — she has quite a mouth on her."
He rose from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he carried a cloth soaked in warm water. Kneeling between my thighs, he cleaned me carefully, wiping away the proof of his release.
Officer, no man had ever done that for me. Not even Raymond. That simple act unsettled me more than his kisses. It felt too tender, too intimate, and it stirred something I shouldn't have been feeling.
When he finished, he cleaned himself, then slid back beside me and pulled me into his arms.
"Greg, I need to go," I said quietly, though I didn't move away.
"Stay another hour," he groaned, his hand sliding along my spine.
"Natasha may find me here. God knows what she'll do." My fingers brushed the fresh bite mark I had left on his chest. "Did I hurt you?"
His smile was soft, almost boyish. "No, Timi. Just a small ache. And besides, it will remind me of the pleasure you gave me." He brushed the tip of my nose with his finger.
"Please stay. Natasha travelled to Abuja this morning. She won't be back for two weeks."
Two weeks. My heart leapt, but fear quickly crushed it. "If you want me to spend more time with you, take me to your own place. I can't rest here in another woman's bed."
The change was instant. He stiffened and left the bed as if burned.
"I can't," he said coldly, dropping into a chair.
"Why not?" My voice shook.
He dragged a hand over his face. "Because I can't lose another person in that cursed house." His voice broke.
"Lose who?"
"She died, Timi." He snatched a bottle from the table and drank deeply. "She was beautiful, smart. My fiancée. We were happy. The wedding was weeks away. And then… she fell."
His voice hollowed me out. He finished the drink and set it down with a trembling hand.
"Do you know what it feels like to fall headfirst from a storey building?" His eyes bored into mine. I shook my head.
"It's like this." He carried the empty bottle to the window, placed it on the ledge, and tipped it over. We both watched it fall, smash against the tiles below, fragments scattering.
"The heart stops. A scream escapes. Then the head meets the ground, the neck twists, and everything ends." His voice trembled. "It's been two years. The hurt doesn't leave."
If you're wandering why he told me this on our second meeting, then I have to say I don't know, officer.
Tears blurred my vision. I couldn't find words, so I kissed him instead, pouring every drop of sympathy I had into that single touch.
When I pulled back, I whispered, "I live with someone."
His eyes narrowed. "And you're here?"
"I have to go," I murmured, gathering my clothes.
"Don't put them on," he said softly but firmly, stopping me when I was about to wear my underwear.
For a moment, I thought to humour him. So, I obeyed. Naked, I felt exposed, but also free. And for the first time, I admitted to myself: I have to end things with Raymond.
That thought stayed with me as I hailed a taxi. Just as I settled into the seat, my phone rang.
"Talk of the devil," I muttered, rolling my eyes before answering. "Hello."
"Where are you?" Raymond's harsh voice snapped through the line.
"I'm… running errands."
"That's why you've been ignoring my calls?"
His tone told me something was wrong. I apologised quickly. "Sorry. What happened?"
"I want you to collect my clothes from the tailor. I have a dinner tonight."
"A dinner date? With who?"
"You're nothing but a meddling fool, Timi. Can't you just run an errand without asking stupid questions?"
Anger rose in me, the first time I had truly wanted to curse him back. But the driver's eyes caught mine in the rear-view mirror, steady, knowing. I swallowed it.
"Of course. I'll get your things. I love you."
I ended the call before more poison could spill from his mouth. Then I leaned back in the seat, sighed, and told the driver, "Take me to Jo___."
And not to the house I shared with Raymond.