Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl - Literature (12) - Nairaland
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| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 2:12pm On Jul 28 |
She tried to hold on to the lightness between them, because if she let herself sink too deeply into what he had just said, she might cry. “So,” she said, brightening deliberately, “can we go again?” Mofe stared at her for a second. Then he laughed so hard she grinned. “Slow down,” he said, propping himself on one elbow. “Aren’t you sore?” “Nothing I can’t manage.” She said with a shrug. He gave her a look. “That is not an answer I like.” “I want to feel that climaxing feeling again. Especially with you inside me,” she said with shameless enthusiasm. “It’s just so good.” Mofe laughed again, but this time there was fondness all over his face. He looked at her like she was ridiculous and precious and dangerous to his sanity all at once. “As much as I would love to make you feel that again,” he said, “we need food. And I am not touching you again until I get protection. We’ve already taken enough risk as it is.” She made a face. “Why do you have to be so sensible all the time?” “Because one of us has to be.” “You’re no fun.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly, a slow, lingering kiss that made her complaint lose all its strength. “There will be fun,” he murmured against her lips. “I promise. But let’s give your body some time to rest.” She looked at him hopefully. “So later tonight, perhaps?” His brow lifted. “Ezinne, aren’t you supposed to be going back to Dara’s place tonight?” “I was supposed to,” she said, settling comfortably against the pillow, “but there’s no way I’m going back now. I’m spending the night here.” Mofe watched her quietly. For a moment, the tenderness in his expression gave way to caution. “I don’t mind that. You know I don’t. But are you sure? You won’t get into trouble?” “I’ll be fine. Trust me.” He studied her for another second, as though weighing whether to push. Then he nodded and sat up. “Okay. I’ll freshen up first, then you’re next. After dinner, we’ll go for a walk.” “A walk?” He looked back at her, the corner of his mouth curving faintly. “I need to stock up on some things.” She understood immediately and laughed. Condoms. Mofe shook his head at her amusement, then got out of bed and started toward the bathroom. Ezinne’s laughter faded slowly as she watched him go. He walked away naked, completely unaware of how shamelessly she was looking at him. The room’s light touched his back, tracing the slope of his shoulders and the clean, defined muscles that shifted with every step. His waist narrowed beautifully, his body lean and strong in a way that made her mouth go dry. There was nothing soft or careless about him. Every line of him seemed shaped by work, discipline, and movement. By the life he had fought through and the strength he carried without making a show of it. She stared because she could not help it. He was beautiful to look at, beautiful to touch, and beautiful to hold. And now she knew the feel of that body against hers. She knew the warmth of his skin, the strength in his arms, and the way he trembled when his control finally slipped. A slow, private smile spread across her face. Her man was so damn fine. The thought filled her with a strange, pleased pride that made her want to laugh at herself. After all the pain, all the distance, all the uncertainty, some young, possessive part of her sat up inside her chest and admired him with complete satisfaction. He was hers. At least in this room, in this moment, he was hers. The bathroom door shut behind him, and a moment later she heard the shower come on. Ezinne remained on the bed for a few seconds, wrapped in the quiet warmth of everything they had shared. Then her phone vibrated on the bedside table. She glanced at it. Ekene. The warmth in her chest cooled immediately. For a brief moment, she considered ignoring it. But then she remembered the delicate arrangement she had created, the lies she had already told, the fragile freedom she was still trying to protect. Ignoring him completely might create questions. Questions would create suspicion. Suspicion would lead back to her father. With a small sigh, she picked up the phone. “Hi, Ezinne,” Ekene said. “Hi.” “I was just about to come see you at Dara’s.” Her mind adjusted quickly. “Ah. Then it’s good you called first.” There was a pause. “Why? Where are you?” “I’m not at Dara’s.” Another pause, heavier this time. Ezinne leaned back against the pillows and forced her voice to stay smooth. “Her parents took us out for dinner.” “Oh.” Ekene sounded surprised, but not doubtful yet. “Where? I can meet you there.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s no need for that.” “Why not?” “Because it would be weird.” “I don’t think it would be weird.” “Ekene,” she said, letting mild irritation enter her voice, “inviting yourself to dinner with my friend’s parents would be weird. Besides, don’t you have something better to do with your evening, or have you appointed yourself my new officer?” There was a brief silence on the other end. “Ezinne…” “No,” she cut in, her tone sharpening. “When you told my father I shouldn’t be treated like a prisoner, did you mean it?” “Of course I meant it.” “Then act like you meant it. Because right now, it feels like you’re trying to take over the position of my jailer.” Ekene sighed. “I’m sorry if you feel that way. I only wanted to see you.” “Not tonight.” “Fine,” he said after a moment. “So when do I pick you up tomorrow?” he asked. “I’ll take an Uber home.” “I can pick you.” “No.” “Ezinne…” He said, dragging her name into a frustrated silence. The silence should have ended there, but Ezinne knew better than to let him retreat too far. She still needed the illusion of friendliness. She still needed him invested enough to keep her father relaxed, but not encouraged enough to assume anything more. It was a thin line. “But you can come by in the evening,” she said, softening her tone just enough. “Is that okay?” His voice changed slightly, warming with hope. “Sure. That’s fine. Can I take you out?” “No, you can’t. That’s not the sort of—” “Even friends hang out,” he said, as if reminding her that they were supposed to be friends. She closed her eyes briefly. He always did this. Made unreasonable things sound reasonable. Slipped his wants into ordinary sentences until she felt like she was the one being difficult. “Just a quick outing,” she said finally. “Okay,” he replied, too quickly. Before he could say more, she heard the shower stop. “I have to go,” she said at once. “My battery is low. Goodnight.” She ended the call before he could reply. For a second, she sat there staring at the dark screen of her phone, the guilt and irritation mixing uncomfortably inside her. Then the bathroom door opened. Mofe stepped back into the room, fresh from the shower, a towel slung low around his waist and another in his hand. Steam followed him faintly, along with the clean scent of soap. His hair was damp, his skin glowing softly under the dim light, and for one unguarded second, Ezinne forgot every lie she had just told. He looked at her and smiled. “Your turn,” he told her. She set the phone aside quickly. “Yes, it is.” He came to the side of the bed and held out the towel, but before she could take it, his gaze drifted over her with such open admiration that warmth rushed straight back into her face. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said quietly. The words were simple, but they sank deep. Ezinne took the towel from him and wrapped it around herself, suddenly shy in a way that felt strange after everything they had already done. “You always say that,” she murmured. “Because your beauty never ceases to stun me,” he confessed. She tried not to smile and failed. Reaching for her hand, he helped her up gently. For a moment, they stood close together, not speaking, the quiet between them warm and full. His fingers lingered at her waist before he let go, and even that small loss of contact felt like something. She turned toward the bathroom, still smiling faintly. And as she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her, the same way hers had followed him earlier. For tonight, she let herself enjoy it. For tonight, she let herself pretend there were no lies waiting outside the room, no Ekene, no father, no fragile plan balancing on half-truths and careful performances. For tonight, there was only Mofe. And the beautiful but terrifying fact that she had found her way back into his arms. ********** |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 3:11pm On Jul 28 |
Present Day Mofe had raised such hell at the Educational Council offices that, at one point, two uniformed security officers had stepped into the room and quietly positioned themselves near the door. But he had not cared. By then, whatever restraint he had walked in with had been stripped away by the sight of Ezinne sitting rigidly in a hard plastic chair, her dark glasses still on, her e-zinne cane resting against her leg while three officials spoke over her as though she were not even there. One of them had been waving a file in the air and repeating that procedure had to be followed. Another kept insisting that the Council was merely doing its job. Mofe had nearly lost what remained of his temper. “Your job?” he had demanded, his voice carrying through the office so sharply that conversations outside had gone quiet. “Your job is to drag a visually impaired woman away from the institution she built because of paperwork that could have been resolved with a phone call?” “Mr. Johnson, you need to lower your voice,” one of the senior officers had warned. Mofe had turned on him so quickly that the man took an unconscious step backwards. “No. You need to explain why the director of a registered institution was taken from her workplace like a criminal.” “She was not arrested,” the man had said defensively. “She was invited for questioning.” “Invited?” Mofe repeated, his expression hardening. “Did she have the option to refuse?” The man said nothing. Mofe laughed once, but there had been no humour in it. “Then do not insult my intelligence.” One of the security officers had moved closer. “Sir, if you continue to be disruptive–” “You will do what?” Mofe asked, turning his gaze on him. “Arrest me too?” The officer hesitated, and Mofe took a step forward. “Go ahead.” Ezinne had called his name then, quietly but firmly. “Mofe.” He had looked at her, and the tightness in her face had only made his anger worse. She was trying to appear calm, but he could see the strain in the way her fingers curled around the edge of her chair. Before he could say anything else, his lawyer had arrived. The man walked into the office with none of Mofe’s visible fury. He was calm, neatly dressed, and carrying a leather briefcase, but there was something in his composure that made the entire room settle almost at once. He listened to the council officials speak for less than two minutes before setting the briefcase on the table. “Let me make sure I understand the situation correctly,” he said. “The centre has all the required documents. Some licences have expired, but no allegation has been made that the institution is unsafe, fraudulent, or operating outside its approved purpose.” One of the officials cleared his throat. “The renewal dates were missed.” “And that justifies detaining the director?” “She was not detained.” Mofe’s lawyer looked at the man over the rim of his glasses. “Was she free to leave?” The room fell silent again. “I thought not,” he said. Then he opened the file in front of him and spoke with such quiet precision that even Mofe stopped pacing. “My client would like to know whether this Council has the resources to defend itself against a multi billion dollar lawsuit.” Several faces changed at once, an the senior officer leaned forward. “There is no need for threats.” “This is not a threat,” the lawyer replied. “It is a clarification of possible consequences. If Mr. Johnson instructs us to proceed, this will not be treated as a minor dispute over expired licences. We will examine unlawful detention, procedural misconduct, reputational damage, harassment, discrimination, and every administrative failure involved in the decision to bring Mrs. Ezinne here by force.” Mofe folded his arms, his gaze fixed on the officials. His lawyer continued in the same calm tone. “And once we begin, we will not stop with today. We will review this Council’s conduct over the last decade. We will request audits, internal communications, disciplinary records and every document relating to enforcement actions against private educational institutions.” The Council chairman shifted uneasily in his seat. The lawyer looked directly at him. “I sincerely hope this agency has the funds to defend itself against one of the wealthiest Black businessmen in the world, because by the time we are finished, the Federal Government may decide it is cheaper to scrap this Council entirely than rescue it from bankruptcy.” That had changed everything. The hostility drained out of the room with embarrassing speed. Voices softened. Chairs were offered. Documents were suddenly located. The same officials who had insisted that nothing could be done without due process began speaking about misunderstandings and administrative oversights. It turned out there had been no reason to bring Ezinne in at all. The centre had every essential document. A few operating licences had lapsed, but they could be renewed immediately once the penalties were paid. There was no fraud, no dangerous violation and no legal basis to continue holding her. Mofe paid the fine without blinking and within the hour, Ezinne was released unconditionally. Now she sat beside him in the back seat of his car, and the fury that had carried him through the Council offices was gone. The interior of the car was cool and quiet, sealed away from the heat and noise outside. Traffic crawled around them, horns sounding in short, impatient bursts, while motorcycles slipped between vehicles with reckless confidence. The city was alive beyond the tinted windows, but inside the car, the silence between Mofe and Ezinne had hardened into something almost physical. He did not know what to say. Four days. He had avoided her for four whole days. Now, sitting inches away from her, all he could think was that he had behaved like a coward. His phone rested in his hand, though he had not read a single email in several minutes, but he kept scrolling anyway. He opened documents he did not absorb, replied to one message with a sentence so vague it barely qualified as an answer, then returned to his inbox and stared blankly at the same unread notification. It was easier than looking at her. Ezinne sat against the leather seat with her earbuds in. Her face was turned slightly toward the window, her dark glasses hiding her eyes, and her hands rested calmly in her lap. Anyone looking at her might have thought she was relaxed. Mofe knew better. Her stillness was too deliberate. He wondered what she was listening to. Music, or perhaps an audiobook. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe the earbuds were simply her own way of avoiding him. The thought unsettled him more than it should have. He stole another glance at her, then looked away before she could somehow sense it. For one reckless moment, he imagined telling her everything right there. The secret about his departure. The arrangement with her father. Every ugly detail he had kept hidden for years. The thought made his stomach tighten. How did a man confess the darkest thing he had ever done to the woman he loved and still expect her to look at him afterwards? He could admit to the medical records because he had already placed something hopeful in front of her. The charity outreach and the possibility of surgery had softened the blow. He had hated manipulating the timing, but it had worked. Her anger had not disappeared, yet it had not swallowed everything else. This was different. There was nothing hopeful attached to this secret. No doctor. No charity. No promise of restored sight. Only betrayal. If it had been entirely his decision, he would have carried the truth to his grave. He would have buried it beneath everything good he intended to do for her until even he could pretend it no longer mattered. But he had made Chief Onu a promise, and when the time was right, he would tell her. He would find a way to keep that promise, even if the thought of it made his chest feel tight. He dragged his thumb down the screen again without seeing the words. What he should have been thinking about was her father. He had promised the Chief that he would begin laying the groundwork for reconciliation. That conversation alone was dangerous enough. Ezinne had spent years building a life without her father in it. She had learned to live with the pain he caused and the distance he created. Suggesting that she open the door to him again could easily send Mofe straight back into the doghouse. Perhaps even beyond it. He could already imagine the quiet disbelief in her voice. After everything he did to me, you want me to forgive him? Mofe had no answer that would not sound like betrayal. He shifted slightly, suddenly unable to get comfortable. The Council officials had not frightened him. Armed guards had not frightened him. The possibility of arrest had barely registered. But one difficult conversation with Ezinne had him pretending to read emails like a nervous schoolboy. Her voice broke through the silence without warning. “Since Azora is spending the night at Dara’s place, I would like us to talk.” Mofe’s thumb froze over the screen. His entire body went still before he slowly lifted his head. One of her earbuds was now resting in her palm. She had not turned toward him, but her posture had changed. She was no longer leaning against the window. She was sitting straighter, her fingers curled lightly around the earbud as though she had already made up her mind about something. “Talk?” he repeated before he could stop himself. Ezinne turned her face in his direction. “Yes, Mofe. Talk.” Something in her tone tightened the knot already forming in his chest, and his mind immediately ran through every possibility. Was this about the last four days? Had she discovered his meeting with her father? Had she finally decided that whatever was happening between them had gone too far and needed to end? That last thought struck him with enough force that his mouth went dry. He locked his phone and placed it beside him, abandoning the pretence at last. “Of course,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “We can talk.” Ezinne was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Not in the car. Let's go to your hotel.” His gaze snapped fully to her. She must have heard the change in his breathing because her lips tightened slightly. “Unless you would rather continue avoiding me,” she added. The words were calm, but they landed like a slap. Mofe leaned back slowly, guilt pressing hard against his ribs, as a fresh wave of unease moved through him. Whatever she wanted to say, it was not casual. It was not gratitude for getting her released. It was not a conversation that could happen while his driver listened from the front seat. He picked up his phone and sent one short message to the driver. Take us back to the hotel. Then he locked the screen and set it aside. This time, he did not pretend to be busy. He sat beside her in silence, acutely aware of every inch between them and every truth waiting to tear that distance wide open. *************** |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by dripzzy(f): 6:10pm On Jul 28 |
Wow early update |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 9:05am On Jul 30 |
Hello Dear readers, The first part of the next chapter comes up by 8pm ... or earlier possibly ...  |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 2:56pm On Jul 30 |
Chapter 31 Eleven years ago By four o’clock the following afternoon, Mofe had accepted that he was going to have to let Ezinne leave, but acceptance did not make him any more willing to do it. She had already stayed much longer than she intended. Her father expected her home, and Mofe had work waiting for him that he could not keep avoiding no matter how badly he wanted to spend the rest of the day shut away with her. There were calls he had ignored, messages he had left unanswered, and responsibilities he could no longer pretend did not exist. Yet none of that seemed important enough to make him release her. He wished they could have remained exactly as they had been that morning, lazy and unhurried, with their limbs tangled together beneath the sheets and no one waiting for either of them. Instead, they were standing by the front door, supposedly saying goodbye, though neither of them seemed willing to actually let the other go. They had been saying goodbye for almost ten minutes. Ezinne’s back rested against the wall while Mofe leaned into her, one arm settled around her waist and the other braced beside her head. Her taxi was only a few minutes away, but neither of them seemed to care. Every time one of them tried to end the embrace, the other leaned in again, and another kiss followed. Mofe pressed his lips lightly to her cheek, then to the corner of her mouth. When she turned her face toward him, he kissed her properly, slow and lingering, until the thought of releasing her became even more unbearable. The previous night had changed something inside him. It had not merely been memorable. It had settled somewhere permanent within him, becoming one of those moments he knew he would carry for the rest of his life. The woman he loved had slept in his bed. She had smiled against his chest, stolen half his pillow, complained when he got up too early and then dragged him back beneath the sheets. Even now, the memory of opening his eyes and finding her beside him made his chest tighten. Ezinne had given him her trust in its most vulnerable form, and he knew he would never treat that lightly. He loved her before, desperately and completely, but after the night they had shared, that love was now even more deeply rooted. He had tried all morning to appear calm about it. He had teased her over breakfast, basked shamelessly in her praise of his cooking, and acted as though having the girl he loved spend the night in his bed had not thrown his entire inner world into chaos. But beneath the calmness, he had been overwhelmed by the reality of it. Now she was leaving, and soon he would have to travel. The thought sat heavily inside him. He did not want to leave her even for a little while, not when they had only just begun repairing what had almost been destroyed between them. He had half a mind to propose to her immediately. The thought was unreasonable and reckless, but it had crossed his mind more than once since morning. He could already picture her expression if he suddenly dropped to one knee again, this time with an actual question instead of a desperate plea for them to be together. She would probably think he had lost his mind. Perhaps he had. Still, the desire remained. He wanted a future with her. Not vaguely. Not someday in the careless way people spoke when they did not mean it. He wanted something definite and permanent. He had already made the promise silently to himself. Three years. Somehow, in three years, he would find a way to marry her. He did not yet know how he would build the life he wanted for them or how he would overcome her father’s resistance, but he would do it. He would finish what he had started, make something meaningful of himself, and create a life where nobody could argue that he was not good enough for her. For now, all he could do was remain patient. “I really wish you didn’t have to leave,” he murmured, dropping another light kiss onto her cheek. Ezinne’s hands rested against his chest, but instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into his shirt. “I wish I didn’t have to leave too.” “Then don’t,” he told her. She laughed quietly. “That is not how real life works.” “I don’t like real life.” “You have work.” “I could resign.” She drew back just enough to look at him. “Because I’m going home?” “Because work is interfering with my happiness.” Her lips curved with amusement. “You would be unemployed before the end of the week if you made decisions like that.” “I’m willing to take the risk.” “No, you’re not.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No, I’m not.” Ezinne smiled and ran her fingers over the back of his neck. “I can come back tomorrow afternoon.” Mofe lifted his head immediately. “You can?” "Yes," She smiled. If you're free." "I'm free. I'm very free," he said without hesitating. She laughed. “You don’t even know what time.” “I’m free at any time.” “What if you already have plans?” “I’ll cancel them.” She laughed softly. “You don’t even know what the plans might be.” “They won’t be more important than you.” “You didn’t even think about it.” “There was nothing to think about.” “Mofe.” “What?” He shrugged without the slightest hint of shame. “You’re more important than whatever the plans are.” She shook her head, but the pleasure in her expression was impossible to hide. “You don’t even know what you’re cancelling.” “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it isn’t you, so it cannot be that important.” Suddenly, Ezinne went still. The playful smile on her face disappeared, replaced by a guilty little wince. “Oh… shit.” Mofe frowned immediately. “What?” “I just remembered something.” The tone of her voice made him straighten. “What’s that?” She looked at him as though she was already preparing herself for his reaction. “I haven’t taken the morning-after pill.” Mofe pulled back from her so quickly that the loss of his warmth was immediate. “Ezinne, I reminded you this morning.” “I know.” “You said you would take it after breakfast.” “I planned to.” “Then why didn’t you?” She groaned as she replied, “I forgot.” Mofe stared at her, certain he had misheard. “How do you forget something like that?” “Well … a lot happened.” His expression became even more incredulous. “What exactly happened after breakfast?” Ezinne looked at him for a moment, then her mouth began to curve. “You distracted me.” “I distracted you?” He asked, surprised. “Yes.” “How?” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice as though she were about to share a secret. “Have you forgotten already? When you did that thing with your…” “Ezinne.” The warning came out much faster and louder than he intended. Her eyes widened with exaggerated innocence. “What? You asked what distracted me.” Mofe rubbed one hand over his face, heat creeping into it despite his determination to remain stern. He knew exactly what she was referring to, and the memory arrived with enough force to make his composure slip for one dangerous second. He could feel the smile threatening at the corner of his mouth, but he refused to let it win. He cleared his throat and attempted to recover what remained of his authority. “That is beside the point.” “It is literally the point.” “No, the point is that you need to take the pill as soon as possible. Like now.” She gave him a patient look, as though he were the one overreacting. “Relax. I have three days.” Mofe sighed with grave patience as he said, “The fact that you have three days does not mean you should wait for three days. The earlier you take it, the better it works.” “I don’t think it works that way,” Mofe looked at her in disbelief. “It absolutely works that way.” She lifted one brow. “Are you a pharmacist now?” “No, but I can read.” “So can I.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he saw an opening. “Apparently not the instructions.” Her mouth fell open. “Mofe.” “What?” His expression remained solemn, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him. “You walked into that one.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re very annoying.” “And you are being unserious about something very serious.” “I said I’ll take it.” “You also said that this morning.” “Yes, but then my very distracting boyfriend decided to...” “Please don’t finish that sentence.” She laughed, delighted by the discomfort on his face. Mofe rolled his eyes and released a long, weary breath. “I can’t with you.” Ezinne’s lips twitched. She moved closer, slipping her arms around his neck and deliberately softening her voice. “Don’t you want to be a daddy?” Mofe froze. For one stunned second, he simply stared at her. Then a disbelieving laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “That is not funny.” “I think it’s a little funny.” “It isn’t.” She tilted her head, studying him with open amusement. “You would make a wonderful father.” “Ezinne.” “You would be very responsible.” “Please stop.” “Probably irritatingly responsible.” He shut his eyes briefly. “I’m warning you.” “You’d make schedules for the baby.” “I am serious, Ezinne.” “Feeding schedule, sleeping schedule, crying schedule..” His stern facade almost broke as he said, “Babies do not cry according to schedules.” “You would teach yours.” He gave her a flat look. She continued, enjoying herself far too much. “And you’d lecture it about punctuality. The poor child would be six months old, and you’d be standing over the cot saying, ‘We agreed you would wake up at seven.’” Despite himself, once again, Mofe’s mouth twitched. Ezinne saw it and pointed at him triumphantly. “You’re laughing.” “I am not.” “You are.” “I’m trying not to lose patience with you.” “That’s not what your face says, liar.” She said laughing at him. Finally, he caught her around the waist and pulled her firmly against him. Her laughter dissolved into a startled little gasp as her hands landed against his chest. “You think this is a joke?” he asked, trying to sound stern again but not really succeeding. “A little,” she admitted, giggling in a light, girlish way that made it almost impossible for him to maintain his annoyance. “It’s not.” She smiled up at him, clearly pleased with how thoroughly she had unsettled him. “You look frightened.” “I am concerned.” “You look frightened,” she repeated. Mofe tightened his arm around her waist and lowered his face closer to hers. “Take the pill, Ezinne.” She tried to suppress another smile. “Yes, Daddy.” “For goodness sake, Ezinne!” Mofe said in exasperation. Ezinne burst into laughter, hiding her face against his chest while Mofe stared down at her, completely flustered, but also smiling and wondering how she had managed to turn a serious conversation into this. “Honestly,” he muttered, “you are impossible.” Her phone buzzed, interrupting them. She checked the screen and sighed. “My driver is here.” Mofe’s smile disappeared. “So soon?” “I told you he was minutes away.” “You should cancel and request another one.” “Why?” “So I can have five more minutes.” She laughed and pushed gently at his chest. “Come on, you know I really have to go.” With a resigned sigh, he took her hand, intertwining their fingers as they stepped outside. They moved slowly across the small compound, neither of them appearing eager to reach the gate. Mofe kept her tucked close to his side, his arm occasionally brushing hers, his thumb moving absently over the back of her hand. Just before they left the compound, he stopped. Ezinne turned toward him. “What?” He did not answer. Instead, he drew her into his arms and kissed her again. It was not the playful, lingering kiss they had shared by the door. This one was deeper, filled with everything he was trying not to say about how difficult it felt to let her go. His hand settled at the back of her neck while his other arm circled her waist, pulling her close until there was almost no space left between them. Ezinne melted into him, her fingers clutching lightly at his shoulders as she kissed him back with the same reluctance. For a few stolen seconds, the waiting taxi, her father and his work ceased to matter. When they finally parted, she remained close, her lips still brushing his as they breathed. “You’re going to make this driver give me a poor rating,” she whispered and he chuckled. “You need to let me go.” “I know,” he replied, but it took him another few seconds to actually do it. The Uber was waiting just outside the gate. Mofe walked her to the car and checked the licence plate against the details on her phone. He leaned toward the window and studied the driver briefly, then checked the make and colour of the vehicle as if he expected someone to have switched cars within the last minute. Ezinne watched him with amused patience. “Are you done?” “Almost.” He opened the rear door himself and glanced inside before finally appearing satisfied. “Message me when you get home.” “I will.” “And take the pill.” “Yes, Daddy.” He frowned at her. “Don’t call me that.” Her laughter came quickly and brightly, and he had to smile despite himself. Before she could get into the car, he pulled her into one final hug. This one was quieter than the kiss, but somehow it felt more intimate. He wrapped both arms around her and held on, his cheek resting briefly against her hair as if he needed to store the feeling of her before letting her leave. “I love you,” he said softly. He had said it before, but there was something different about saying it now, after everything that had passed between them. The words no longer sounded like a plea or a defence. They were simply the truth. Ezinne pulled back slightly and looked up at him. For one small, suspended moment, Mofe waited. Then her expression softened. “I love you too.” Everything inside him stilled. He stared at her as though she had given him something far greater than the words themselves. Perhaps she had. She had not said them since his betrayal, and hearing them now felt like the first real sign that she was finding her way back to him. A slow smile spread across his face. “You do?” She rolled her eyes, though she was smiling too. “Don’t ruin it.” “I just want to be sure I heard you correctly.” “You did.” “Say it again.” “No.” “Ezinne.” “Goodbye, Mofe.” Laughing softly, she slipped into the back seat before he could detain her any longer. Mofe closed the door carefully and stepped back, still smiling as she lowered the window. “Take the pill,” he reminded her. Her expression immediately became exasperated. “Goodbye.” “Message me when you get home.” “I will.” “And tomorrow…” She nodded. “I’ll come.” “You promise?” “Mofe, let the driver move.” He finally stepped away from the car, watching as it pulled into the road. Ezinne lifted her hand through the open window, and he remained by the gate until the vehicle disappeared from sight. Only then did he release the breath he had been holding. She loved him. Whatever else remained uncertain between them, whatever difficulties still waited ahead, she loved him. For now, that was enough. ****** |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by dripzzy(f): 3:11pm On Jul 30 |
Another early update I'm surprised |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 3:12pm On Jul 30 |
dripzzy:Thanks for reading. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 3:13pm On Jul 30 |
The second part of the chapter comes up tomorrow evening. 8 pm. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by Ibunkun1(m): 4:10pm On Jul 30 |
🥹🥹🥹 |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 2:45pm On Jul 31 |
Present Day The moment Ezinne stepped into the suite, she could smell the luxury. It was there in the cool, faintly perfumed air, in the subtle scent of polished wood, fresh linen and something warm she could not quite identify. Even the silence felt expensive, the kind of deep, insulated quiet that suggested thick walls, soft furnishings and rooms too far above the street for traffic noise to intrude. She slipped off her shoes almost immediately. Mofe watched as she placed them neatly beside the door, then stretched one foot cautiously over the floor. Her toes moved against the smooth marble, testing its coolness and the flawless surface beneath her. “Feels expensive,” she murmured. Mofe closed the door behind them. “It’s the penthouse suite. As for if it's expensive, well … that's relative. It's good value though.” There was no pride in his voice. He said it as though he were stating an ordinary fact, which somehow made the reality of his wealth more striking. Ezinne turned slightly toward him. “Can you assist me to a seat?” He was beside her at once. His hand settled gently beneath her elbow while the other was near her waist, ready to steady her if necessary. He guided her across the room, adjusting his pace to hers even though she could have managed with her cane. “This way,” he said. “There’s an armchair just ahead.” He placed her hand on the back of it and waited until she had lowered herself safely into the seat before moving away. “I’ll order room service,” he said. “You must be famished.” She nodded. “I am actually.” Mofe crossed the room toward the telephone while Ezinne settled more fully into the chair. Her hands moved over the armrests, exploring the velvety fabric. It was soft beneath her fingertips, but firm enough to hold its shape, the kind of upholstery that had probably been chosen by someone who understood that true luxury did not need to call attention to itself. Only the best for one of the wealthiest Black men in the world, she thought. She had heard his lawyer’s threat at the council offices. Everyone in the room had. The words had not sounded exaggerated, and the sudden change in the officials’ attitudes had told her all she needed to know. She knew Mofe was rich. But knowing it in theory was not the same as sitting inside the penthouse suite he had occupied for weeks and feeling the evidence of that wealth beneath her fingers. From what she'd noticed, Mofe could afford to live anywhere in the world. He could wake up in New York one morning and fly to London for dinner. He could buy houses in cities most people only visited in their dreams. There was only one thing keeping him back in Nigeria, sleeping in an expensive hotel suite when he could have gone back to the life he had built abroad. He was here for Azora, she reminded herself. That was what he truly wanted. Time with his daughter. The years he had missed. The chance to know her habits, her moods, her favourite foods and the endless questions that filled every journey home from school. He had picked Azora up for the past three days. But he had made a point of staying away from Ezinne. At first, she had told herself she was imagining it. By the second day, she had known she was not. Mofe was avoiding her. The thought had unsettled her far more than she wanted to admit. She had grown accustomed to his presence too quickly. To hearing his voice in the house. To his teasing. To the way he filled spaces without needing to dominate them. Even when she was irritated with him, she had known he was nearby. Then suddenly, he had withdrawn. Ezinne lowered her hand from the armrest. Did he know she had overheard his conversation with Aunt Moni? Perhaps he had seen her leaving. Perhaps Aunt Moni had told him later. That would explain the distance and the careful way he had avoided meeting her. Across the room, Mofe spoke briefly into the telephone, ordering food in the same calm, assured voice he used when handling business. When he replaced the receiver, Ezinne heard his footsteps begin to move away. “Mofe.” The steps stopped immediately. “Yes?” “Come back, please.” There was a short pause before he returned. His footsteps drew closer, and then she caught the familiar scent of him, and the faint trace of his cologne. A moment later, the air shifted in front of her as he sat down. They were close. Closer than they had been in the car. Judging from the height of his voice and the nearness of his breathing, he had probably taken the low cushioned stool in front of her rather than another chair across the room. Ezinne clasped her hands together in her lap. “Did I … do something wrong?” She asked tentatively. She heard his sharp intake of breath before he answered. “What?” “You’ve been avoiding me for the past few days.” His breathing changed again, but he did not move away. “Ezinne,” he said, his voice gentler now, “believe me when I say I’m the one who has been an ass. You did absolutely nothing wrong.” Relief moved through her, quick and unexpected, but it was immediately followed by confusion. “So it wasn’t because you caught me listening to your conversation with Aunt Moni?” The silence this time was different. “Caught you?” he repeated. “What are you talking about? Ezinne, did you eavesdrop on a private conversation between my aunt and me?” Her fingers twisted together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “How do you accidentally eavesdrop?” His tone was not angry, but there was enough disbelief in it to make her wince. “I walked in and heard the two of you speaking. I realised it was private, so I left almost immediately.” “Almost?” “I heard some things.” “What things?” Ezinne hesitated. “Something about your uncle paying for your airfare when you travelled.” Mofe said nothing. She hurried to explain. “I’m truly sorry. I wasn’t trying to listen. I came to greet Aunt Moni, and I heard raised voices before I realised what you were discussing. I promise I left as soon as I understood it was personal.” “But you heard enough.” “Yes.” A long breath left him. Then she heard the faint movement of fabric as he stood. “Well,” he muttered, “this is embarrassing.” “Mofe .. I’m ...” “No, it’s fine.” “It doesn’t sound fine.” He moved a short distance away, and Ezinne felt the loss of his nearness immediately. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have heard any of it.” He did not answer. Ezinne tilted her head toward the direction of his footsteps, knowing he was assessing the situation, what she said and how to address it. “If you didn’t know I was listening,” she asked quietly, “why have you been avoiding me?” **** |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 2:47pm On Jul 31 |
Mofe did not answer immediately. For a few seconds, he simply stood there, wondering how much to say and how to explain something he had spent most of his life refusing to examine too closely. “I was trying to process things,” he said at last. “Finding out that the uncle I thought abandoned me had helped pay for my trip messed with my head a little.” Ezinne frowned. “What do you mean when you say he abandoned you?” Mofe let out a slow breath and returned to the stool in front of her. He sat down and she could almost feel the warmth coming from him. “When my parents died, my uncle took control of my father’s business. Everything that should have come to me eventually passed through his hands.” His voice remained even, but there was a hardness beneath it now. “He sent me to live with Aunt Moni and carried on with his life as though I no longer existed.” Ezinne’s expression softened. “He never checked on you?” “Not in any way that mattered. He did not ask if I was settling in or whether Aunt Moni could afford to care for me. He did not come to school events. He did not call. He just took over everything my father had built and left my aunt to raise me.” “Mofe,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” He looked away, uncomfortable with the sympathy in her voice. “It was a long time ago.” “That doesn’t mean it stopped hurting.” His jaw tightened slightly. She was right, of course, but admitting it would mean acknowledging that the boy he had once been was still somewhere inside him, waiting for an explanation that might never come. “Now he’s trying to get me to meet with him,” Mofe continued. “I refused every attempt before. I had no interest in hearing anything he had to say.” “But now you do.” He gave a short, humourless laugh. “Now Aunt Moni tells me he paid for my airfare when I left for America. So, yes, now I have questions.” “What kind of questions?” “Why did he do it?” Mofe asked, the frustration in his voice growing. “Why help me from a distance when he could not be bothered to help me when I was a child? Why pay for my ticket and say nothing? Why pretend I did not exist for years and then suddenly decide my future mattered?” Ezinne listened quietly. “I want to ask him why he abandoned me,” Mofe said. “And why, after all of that, he still chose to do something that changed my life.” The pain in his voice was more exposed now, stripped of the confidence and control he usually wore so easily. Ezinne reached out. Her hand found his forearm, brushing against the sleeve of his shirt. He had removed his suit jacket at some point after they entered the suite, and she slowly moved her palm upward over the firm shape of his arm. Mofe went still. Her fingers travelled to his shoulder and then, carefully, to the side of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm before he could stop himself. The touch was gentle, almost unbearably so. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” she said softly. “I never knew.” “I never told you.” “Why not?” Mofe opened his eyes, though she could not see the way he looked at her. “I didn’t like talking about it. I still don’t.” Her thumb moved lightly against his cheek. “Are you going to see him?” A long sigh left him. “I don’t know.” Ezinne waited. “I don’t want to,” he admitted. “But I also do.” His mouth twisted with frustration. “Does that make any sense?” She nodded slowly. “It makes perfect sense.” Mofe studied her face, surprised by how easily she understood. “I just wish Aunt Moni had never accepted the money,” he said. “Or that she had told me, so I could have rejected it.” “Would you have?” “Yes.” The answer came too quickly. Ezinne’s hand remained against his face. “Even if it meant not travelling?” Mofe hesitated, and that hesitation was answer enough. He lowered his gaze. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Maybe I would have found another way. Maybe I wouldn’t have. But at least the choice would have been mine.” Ezinne said nothing. “That’s what bothers me,” he continued. “Everyone made decisions about my life without telling me. Aunt Moni decided I was better off not knowing. My uncle decided he could help from the shadows and still avoid facing me. And I built my entire life believing I owed him nothing.” His expression hardened again. “Now I find out that the money that took me to America came from him. The opportunity that changed everything came partly because of him.” “You feel indebted.” “I hate it.” The words came out blunt and immediate. Mofe pulled away from her hand and stood, too restless to remain seated. He walked a few steps across the room before turning back. “I never wanted anything from that man. I made peace with what he did by believing I survived without him.” His voice lowered. “Now I find out that isn’t completely true.” Ezinne lowered her hand slowly into her lap. “It doesn’t erase what he did to you,” she said. “No, but it complicates it.” “Yes, it does.” “I know gratitude is probably the reasonable response, but all I feel is angry. Angry with him for sending the money. Angry with Aunt Moni for accepting it. Angry that neither of them trusted me enough to tell me the truth.” “You are allowed to feel all of that.” Mofe gave a quiet laugh without humour. “Am I?” “Yes.” He looked at her. “You can be grateful for what the money helped you achieve and still be angry about everything else. One good act does not cancel years of abandonment.” Something in him eased at that. Only slightly, but enough for his shoulders to lose some of their stiffness. Ezinne tilted her face toward him. “And meeting him does not mean you forgive him.” Mofe remained silent. “It only means you are giving yourself the chance to ask the questions you have carried for years,” she added. “You deserve the answers, even if you do not like them.” He walked back toward her and stopped in front of the chair. “You really understand.” A small, sad smile touched her lips. “I do. More than you think.” Mofe released a long breath and lowered himself onto the stool opposite her again. For a moment, he said nothing. He simply watched her, his thoughts moving quickly as her last words settled between them. Meeting his uncle did not mean forgiving him. It only meant giving himself the chance to ask questions. The advice had been sensible and compassionate. It was more generous than he had expected, especially from someone who understood what it meant to have family wounds that never truly healed. And suddenly, he saw an opening. A tricky one. He studied her face, wondering whether this was the right moment to use it. She was calm now, her hand resting loosely in her lap, her expression softened by the sympathy she had shown him. If he did not ask now, he might not find another opportunity that did not feel forced. Still, he hesitated. Then he reminded himself of the promise he had made to Chief Onu. He'd promised to do everything he could to get a reconciliation. “Would you also consider meeting with your father?” he asked. ********** |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 2:55pm On Jul 31 |
Next chapter comes up on Monday morning ... Or possibly earlier, who knows?  |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by dripzzy(f): 3:15pm On Jul 31 |
Please make it early |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 4:06pm On Jul 31 |
dripzzy:Fingers crossed 🤞🏽🤞🏽 |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by Frankcallys(m): 7:33pm On Jul 31 |
Ah aaaah! You better come back and finish what you start now. Mofe asked this kind of tricky question and you want us to wait till Monday for Ezinne's answer? I swear rugad, ama bite you 😭 repogirl: |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 9:46pm On Jul 31 |
Frankcallys:😂 Monday will be here soon enough. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by Ibunkun1(m): 6:47am On Aug 01 |
This woman like to dey raise person bp 😕😭😏 |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 3:59pm On Aug 01 |
And you love it |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by jupitre(m): 4:02pm On Aug 01 |
Thanks aunt Repogirl |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by afroditte(f): 6:26pm On Aug 01 |
Lovely update! |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 6:30pm On Aug 01 |
jupitre:You're welcome  |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 11:50pm On Aug 02 |
Chapter 32 Eleven years ago Ezinne had agreed to the outing reluctantly, and even now, sitting across from Ekene with a cup of frozen yoghurt melting slowly in front of her, she was not entirely sure why she had bothered. It was exactly what Ezinne had expected it to be; ordinary, uneventful, and something she would have preferred to avoid altogether. There had been no elaborate plans, no romantic gestures, nothing that could reasonably be called a date, though Ezinne suspected he wanted her to see it as one. Ekene had picked her up, and driven them to a small yoghurt place not too far from her house. He’d bought them each a cup of yoghurt, added far too many toppings to his, chose a table near the window, and spent most of the time talking while she offered the occasional nod or distracted reply. The place was bright and busy, filled with the low hum of conversations and the clatter of spoons against plastic cups, but Ezinne barely noticed any of it. Her thoughts kept drifting somewhere else. Back to Mofe’s room. Back to the way he had looked at her, the way he had held her through the night as though he could not quite believe she was there. She remembered waking beside him, with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his face pressed against her hair. She vividly remembered the sleepy smile that had crossed his face when he opened his eyes and found her watching him. She remembered the quiet things they had said to each other between kisses, the laughter, the warmth, and the way he had made her feel treasured instead of merely desired. She could still feel the press of his lips against hers at the gate that afternoon and hear the stunned softness in his voice after she finally told him she loved him. The recollection made the corner of her mouth lift before she caught herself. Across the table, Ekene stopped speaking. “Ezinne.” She blinked and looked at him. “Hmm?” He stared at her for a moment. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said for the past five minutes.” “Huh? I have … I was listening.” “What did I say?” She looked down at the melting yoghurt in her cup and moved her spoon through it slowly. “Something about your friend.” “Which friend?” Her spoon paused halfway to her mouth. “The one you were talking about.” Ekene leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Really, Ezinne? So I’ve just been speaking to myself since.” She sighed and set the spoon down. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” “You’ve been tired since I picked you up.” “I think I need to catch up on some sleep.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and she immediately knew she had given him an opening. “You were also supposed to be home from Dara’s by noon,” he said. Ezinne’s brows pulled together. “Yeah … so?” “You came home much later.” The question erased what little amusement she had been feeling. “How do you know when I came home?” “I called your house.” “You called my house to check whether I was back?” “Yes, because I was planning to pick you up.” “And instead of calling me, you called my house?” She asked. Ekene ignored the irritation in her voice. “I thought you said you were only staying the night.” “I did stay the night.” “Then why did it take you till almost five p.m in the evening to get home?” She stared at him, her annoyance rising quickly now. “Have you appointed yourself my new jailer?” His brows drew together. “That is not what I’m doing, Ezinne. I’m asking a simple question.” “It sounds exactly like what you’re doing. First, my father has an officer following me everywhere. Now that the officer is gone, you’ve decided to start monitoring what time I return home.” “I’m not monitoring you.” “You just told me what time I was supposed to be home and what time I eventually arrived. Am I not grown enough to decide when I want to return home?” Ekene released a breath and looked around briefly, clearly aware that her voice had risen. “Ezinne, keep your voice down.” “Don’t tell me to keep my voice down.” “I’m only asking a question.” “And I’m telling you it’s none of your business.” His jaw tightened, but he did not argue immediately. Instead, he picked up his spoon and took a slow bite of yoghurt, giving himself time before he spoke again, and visibly, keeping his temper in check. Ezinne knew she should know better than to push him. He had a really short fuse and she was quite surprised it hadn’t exploded already. “What were you and Dara doing that kept you there for so long?” He asked more gently this time, but it still made something tense inside her. Ezinne reached for the explanation she had already prepared. “We stayed up all night watching movies,” she said. “ and then I overslept.” “Until afternoon?” “Yes, Ekene. Until afternoon.” He continued watching her. She gave a shrug that she hoped looked natural. “And I didn’t really feel like leaving. I probably would have stayed longer if I hadn’t promised to hang out with you.” The statement seemed to satisfy him. Some of the suspicion left his face, replaced by the faint pleasure of knowing she had supposedly returned because of him. “I appreciate that.” His expression softened, and he sat back in his chair. “You should have stayed if you didn’t feel like coming.” Ezinne gave him a sceptical look. “You would have complained.” “I wouldn’t.” “You were about to come to Dara’s house uninvited yesterday.” “That was different.” “How?” “I wanted to see you.” “That is not an explanation.” Ekene smiled faintly, unwilling to be drawn into another argument. “Fine. Maybe I would have complained a little.” She shook her head and returned to her yoghurt. For a few moments, they sat in silence. Ezinne told herself to pay attention, to behave normally, but her thoughts slipped away again almost immediately. She remembered Mofe standing beside the taxi earlier that afternoon, checking the licence plate and the driver’s details as though her safety was his personal responsibility. She remembered the way he had held her before she left and the stunned happiness on his face when she finally told him she loved him. She could still feel the pressure of his kiss. “Where have you gone again?” Ekene’s voice pulled her back. She looked up quickly. “What?” “Once again, you’ve disappeared while sitting right in front of me.” “I’m here, Ekene,” She said with a sigh. Here we go again. “Physically, yes.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re being dramatic.” “What is distracting you so much?” He asked, his expression becoming more curious than suspicious. “Nothing.” “It’s clearly not nothing,” he countered, still studying her face, “Is it one of the movies you watched?” Ezinne hesitated for only a fraction of a second. “Yes.” “What movie?” Her mind went blank. She had not expected him to ask for the title. For one dangerous second, all she could think of was Mofe, and the truth was certainly not a story she could offer Ekene over frozen yogurt. She tried to remember the title of any Nigerian film she had heard about recently, but all she could think of was Mofe, his bed, and the fact that she was sitting across from Ekene lying with far less skill than she had imagined. “The Wedding Party,” she said finally. Ekene’s brows lifted. “The Nigerian movie?” “Yes.” She had not watched it. She was not even sure what it was properly about beyond the obvious clue in the title, but she had a strong feeling Ekene had not seen it either. “I haven’t seen that,” he said. Relief loosened her shoulders. “Oh, really?” “Was it good?” “Very good,” she replied quickly. “Extremely interesting.” “What happened in it?” Ezinne paused. She should have anticipated that question. She looked down at her cup, buying herself a moment as she scooped up another spoonful. “It was about two people who were supposed to get married, but their families hated each other.” Ekene nodded, waiting for more. “And then,” she continued, warming up to her own invention, “the bride discovered that the groom had another family in another state.” His eyebrows shot up. “He was already married?” “Not exactly.” “What does that mean?” Ezinne frowned slightly, as though the plot itself had been complicated rather than completely invented. “He had done a traditional introduction with another woman, but he didn’t consider it a real marriage.” Ekene gave a quiet laugh. “That sounds like a marriage.” “That was the problem.” “So what happened?” “The other woman arrived at the wedding with a child.” “A child?” “Yes. A little boy.” Ekene stared at her, clearly interested now. “Was it his?” “At first, everyone thought so.” “But it wasn’t?” “No. It belonged to his brother.” “Why did the woman say it was his?” “She didn’t.” Ezinne waved her spoon vaguely. “People assumed.” “That sounds confusing.” “It was very well explained in the film.” Ekene nodded slowly. “So who did the bride marry?” Ezinne hesitated again. “The groom’s cousin.” There was a beat of silence. “The groom’s cousin?” “Yes.” “At the same wedding?” “It was a very eventful wedding.” Ekene burst out laughing, and Ezinne joined him, though hers was partly from the relief of having managed to keep the lie alive. “That sounds ridiculous,” he said. “It was meant to be funny.” “I might watch it.” Her smile faltered. “You don’t need to.” He looked amused. “Why not? You just said it was very good.” “It was good for me.” “What does that mean?” “You might not like it.” “You know what kind of films I like?” “Yes.” “No, you don’t.” “I know enough.” Ekene leaned forward, smiling now. “You have made it sound so strange that I need to see it for myself.” “There is no need to waste your time.” “I’ll watch it tonight.” Ezinne nearly choked on her yoghurt. “Tonight?” “Yup.” “You don’t have anything better to do?” He laughed. “Why are you suddenly so determined that I shouldn’t watch it?” “I’m not determined.” “You are.” “I’m simply warning you that it might not be your kind of film.” “I’ll take the risk.” Ezinne stared at him, realising she had talked herself into a corner. If he watched the actual film, he would know immediately that everything she had just told him was nonsense. She considered changing her story, perhaps claiming she had mixed up two films, but that would only make her look more suspicious. So she reached for her spoon again and tried to sound unconcerned. “Fine. Watch it.” “I will.” “Don’t blame me when you don’t enjoy it.” “I won’t.” He smiled and returned to his yoghurt, apparently satisfied. Ezinne lowered her head, pretending to concentrate on her own cup while silently hoping he would forget all about it before the evening ended. Across from her, Ekene began talking again. This time, she made a determined effort to listen. But even as she nodded in the right places, her thoughts kept returning to Mofe, to the promise that she would see him again the following evening, and to the life they had begun rebuilding in secret while everyone around them believed she was moving further away from him. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 1:13am On Aug 03 |
Present day The change in Ezinne was immediate. The softness disappeared from her face as the colour seemed to drain from it, and her fingers went still against the fabric of her dress. For several seconds, she said nothing. Mofe watched her expression close completely. The contrast was so sharp that a short, incredulous laugh escaped him before he could stop it. Ezinne’s head turned toward him. “What is funny?” “It is easy for you to advise me, isn’t it?” he asked. “You can tell me to meet my uncle, hear him out and ask the questions I have carried for years. But when the same suggestion is made to you, you look as though I have asked you to walk into a burning building.” Her jaw tightened. “It is not the same thing.” “Isn’t it?” He pressed, despite seeing she was getting upset. “No, Mofe. It is not,” She snapped. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You are telling me that meeting someone does not mean forgiving them. That hearing an explanation does not erase what happened. Why does that only apply to me?” “Because your uncle abandoned you with your aunt,” she said, her voice sharpening. “My father nearly got me killed.” The words wiped the faint amusement from Mofe’s face. Shit. This was going somewhere he’d not planned. “I know,” he said, hoping to calm her. “Do you?” She asked, her voice rising several notches. “Then you should know better than to compare the two.” Mofe paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I am not saying what he did was right. Trust me, I'm the last person who would try to rationalise what he did to you.” “Really? Because it sounds very much like you are about to.” “What I’m saying is, unlike my uncle, your father never stopped loving you. What if he made terrible decisions because he thought they were the best ones?” Ezinne’s expression hardened. Mofe continued before she could cut him off. “He did not abandon you. He did not disappear and leave someone else to carry the responsibility of raising you. He was there.” “He was there?” she repeated quietly. There was something in the way she said it that warned him that he had totally stepped onto dangerous ground, but he kept going. “Yes. He was controlling. He was proud. He made decisions for you that he had no right to make. I know that. But perhaps, in his own way, everything he did was because he wanted to make certain you were taken care of.” Ezinne shot to her feet, and the speed of it startled him. Her hand struck the arm of the chair as she stood, and the sound cracked through the quiet suite. She took one unsteady step away from him, breathing hard. “He wanted to make sure I was taken care of?” She asked him, her voice sounding fierce with brimming anger. Mofe stood as well. This was so not going well. He began to approach her. “Ezinne..” “Do not.” Her voice broke from across the room, sharp enough to stop him. “How can you sit there and say that to me?” she demanded. “You, of all people?” Mofe’s chest tightened. “I did not mean…” “You know what he did and even what you didn't know; I told you months ago. That night you were in my room. Or have you forgotten? The night we …” her voice trailed as she recalled the events that had happened. The night he’d kissed her, and they'd been so close to going all the way before they had stopped. “The night we talked before you suddenly ran back to the States.” She informed him. Mofe cringed as she reminded him of another one of his Bleep ups. “I know ...” “No, it seems you do not, because if you did, you would never say something like that.” She said hotly. She turned away from him, one hand searching blindly until it found the back of the armchair. Her fingers curled around it tightly. “He forced me into that marriage,” she said. “He took every choice I had and decided that because I was pregnant, because I had brought shame to him, I no longer deserved a say in what happened to my life.” Mofe’s heart fell hearing the pain in her voice. Once again, he began moving toward her slowly. “Ezinne, I am sorry. I didn’t mean …” “He handed me over to Ekene as though I was something that needed to be hidden or to be rid of.” Her voice rose with every word. “As if marrying me off quickly would erase the pregnancy. As if putting Ekene’s family name beside mine would make everything respectable again.” “I know,” Mofe said, afraid that he sounded patronising. “You do not know!” She turned toward him so sharply that he stopped in his tracks. Her hands were trembling now. “My father knew what Ekene was like. Maybe not at first, but he knew later. He knew I was unhappy. He knew I was frightened. He knew I did not want that life.” Tears slipped beneath her glasses and ran down her cheeks. “He stood by while that man tried to destroy me.” Mofe’s throat tightened; he’d unearthed painful memories and was at a loss how to banish them back to where she’d buried them. The pain was clearly on her features, and he was the bastard for making her relive them all for a promise he made because of his own desperation to keep his secrets from her. “Ezinne… please,” he tried to get her to calm down. He was well aware that she had blood pressure issues. “A man that beat me?” She continued, her voice cracking. “Insulted me … made me feel worthless. He made me afraid in my own home, and my father kept telling me to endure it because marriage was difficult and because leaving would embarrass the family.” Mofe finally closed the distance between them. “I am sorry.” She stepped back immediately. “Do not touch me.” He stopped, his hands falling helplessly to his sides. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I should not have said it that way.” “You should not have said it at all. My father was part of the reason my life took this turn, Mofe.” The words came out on a sob. “He decided who I would marry. He decided what I would tolerate. He decided that his reputation mattered more than whether I was safe.” Her hand rose to her mouth, but it did nothing to hold back the tears. “And now you sit there and tell me he did it because he wanted me taken care of?” Mofe shook his head immediately till he realised she couldn't see him doing it. “I .. it's … I'm sorry I tried to simplify a complicated situation. I'm an insensitive jack ass sometimes; I'm sorry.” She turned away from him again, but he could see how hard she was fighting to hold herself together. Her shoulders trembled despite her effort to remain steady, and one hand tightened around the handle of her cane. This was a deeply painful subject for her, and like an idiot, he had dragged her into it without warning, then made light of her reaction. Guilt twisted sharply in his chest. She was leaning too heavily on the cane now, her balance slightly off, and for one frightening moment, he thought her legs might give way before he could reach her. Mofe stepped closer. “Please.” She raised one hand between them. “Don’t.” He stopped again, but only for a second. Then she swayed slightly, her breath catching in a way that frightened him more than her anger had. Mofe reached for her, but she pushed weakly against his chest. “I said don’t touch me.” “I know you said that.” “Then let me go.” “I cannot, I'm sorry.” Her hands struck his chest once, then again, but there was no strength behind them. Mofe wrapped his arms around her carefully, ignoring her initial resistance. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “I have you.” “It is not all right.” “I know.” “Stop saying you know. It is patronising.” “I’m sorry if it sounds that way, but I promise it's not my intention,” He said quietly. She tried to pull away, but he held her more firmly, one hand spread against the middle of her back while the other cradled the back of her head. For several seconds, she remained stiff in his arms. Then something inside her broke. Her forehead dropped against his chest, and the sob that left her was raw enough to tear through him. Mofe closed his eyes. He had caused this. He had taken a moment when she had been open with him and turned it into pain because he had been too eager to keep a promise to her father. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I should not have said any of it that way.” She cried harder. Mofe held her through it, rubbing slow circles over her back while her fingers twisted into the front of his shirt. “It’s all right,” he murmured again, softer this time. “Let it out.” She shook her head against him. “He was supposed to protect me. He was my father, but he chose his pride over me.” Mofe tightened his arms around her. There was nothing he could say to undo that. There was nothing that would make the years disappear or erase the fear she had lived with. So he did the only thing he could. He held her. He let her cry into his chest until the storm began to ease, until the hard trembling in her body softened into occasional shudders and her breathing became less broken. Even then, he did not release her. His shirt was damp beneath her cheek. Her hands still rested against his chest, though she was no longer pushing him away. When Mofe finally spoke, his voice was low. “When Aunt Moni told me about the money my uncle gave her for my airfare, I did not handle it well.” Ezinne remained quiet in his arms. “I know it is not the same as what you went through,” he continued. “I am not comparing them anymore. I only want you to understand why I brought up your father.” She shifted slightly but did not pull away. “For the first two days, I wasn't in the right space of mind; I was angry,” he said. “ I was angry with my uncle, Aunt Moni, and even myself. I kept thinking about the fact that something so important had been hidden from me for years.” He closed his eyes as his hand moved slowly over her back, thinking of the almost eleven-year-old secret he'd been keeping from her. He was such a hypocrite, but he continued speaking. “I had built my whole life around the belief that I owed that man nothing. Then I learned he had helped create the opportunity that changed everything for me.” Ezinne’s breathing remained uneven, but she was listening. “It broke something in me,” Mofe admitted. “Not permanently, but enough that I needed space to think. I did not know how to speak to anyone without saying something I would regret.” “So you stayed away from me for four days,” she whispered. “Yes. Well, that's the thing. I stayed away from you for slightly different reasons,” he said, careful about what he told her now. “Your father … reached out to me on the same day.” Her fingers tightened slightly against his shirt. “Wh… what?” He swallowed. Why in the world had he chosen to tell her this way? Why hadn’t he chosen a calmer moment, planned every word and made certain he could control the direction of the conversation? He drew in a slow breath. It was too late to turn back now. He had to see it through, Lord help him. “He left a message for me at the office, and I arranged for a meeting with him. We met today,” he finally confessed. Ezinne went completely still; even her breathing seemed to stop. Mofe felt the tension return to her body beneath his hands, sharper and colder than before. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 1:15am On Aug 03 |
For several seconds, she said nothing. Then she pulled out of his arms. He let her go, watching her, and knowing he had to wait for her move before he said anything else. Before he gave out something he shouldn't… yet. “Mofe … this is too much,” Ezinne said, still pulling farther away from him, one hand rising between them as though she needed the distance to think. “Ezinne, please, give me a chance to explain.” “You met with my father?” She asked as if she wasn't sure she'd heard right “Yes, I did.” Her face tightened. “You sat across from him and discussed me?” “I sat across from him because he reached out, begging me to help him reconcile with you,” he explained. Ezinne gave a short, disbelieving laugh and turned away from him. “Zinny, please, if you would just listen.” “Do not call me that right now. You met with that man behind my back to discuss how to handle me! Who made you an intermediary between us by the way?” Mofe pressed his lips together and resisted the urge to reach for her again. She was already hurt, already exposed by wounds that ran far deeper than anything he could soothe with a touch. If he moved toward her now, he risked making her feel trapped rather than comforted. He lowered his voice. “Ezinne… he looked old. Tired. He said he needed to make things right, and I…” “And you decided that was your responsibility?” she cut in. “So you met with him?” “No.” Mofe shook his head. “I met with him because I needed to know whether he was sincere. I was not going to bring his message to you without first sitting across from him and looking him in the face.” Her mouth tightened, but she said nothing Mofe continued before she could shut the conversation down entirely. “I called the meeting because I wanted to see what he really wanted. I wanted to know if this was another attempt to control you or if he had actually changed.” “And?” Mofe hesitated. “And he was different.” Ezinne laughed again, but there was no humour in it. “People will always become different when age catches up with them, and there is no one left to command.” “I know how it looks and sounds.” “Do you?” “Yes.” He moved back toward the stool and sat down, leaving enough distance between them for her not to feel crowded. Ezinne remained standing, her body rigid, one hand gripping the back of the armchair. Mofe looked up at her. “I wish you could see him, Zinny; he looks older,” he said. “Not weak or helpless. Just old in a lonely, worn-down way. He’s a haunted man, Ezinne.” “Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for him?” She asked with a scoff. “No! Hell no!” “Then why are you telling me?” “Because I feel you should know.” His answer came quietly enough to make her pause. Mofe leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “This was the first real conversation your father and I have ever had,” he continued. “The first time we sat across from each other and spoke like two people instead of enemies.” Ezinne’s fingers tightened around the chair. “There were no threats,” Mofe said. “No one holding anything over the other. No anger. No bargaining. No attempt to remind me of where I came from or what he thought I was worth.” He exhaled slowly. “He was civil with me. More than civil. He was almost… eager for us to find a way to move forward.” Ezinne shook her head. “People can act very well when they want something.” “I know that … oh, trust me. I know.” “You barely know him,” she said. “Ezinne, I know him well enough. More than you think I do. And I know what he did to you.” “Then you should have walked away.” “Perhaps I should have.” She turned toward him sharply. “Then why didn’t you? And don’t talk about him being old and worn down.” “Because he took responsibility.” The words stopped her, and he watched the tension in her face shift, though it did not disappear. “He did not pretend he had been misunderstood,” Mofe said. “He did not blame you or Ekene or me. He did not put the reason for his actions on anyone but himself.” Ezinne’s mouth trembled before she pressed it into a hard line. “He admitted that he was proud,” Mofe continued. “He admitted he made decisions for you because he thought he knew better. He said hindsight had not been merciful to him and that the older he became, the more clearly he saw everything he had done wrong. He lives in regret, Ezinne.” Ezinne looked away. Mofe could see that she wanted to dismiss it. He could almost feel the anger rising in her again, fighting against the small part of her that had heard every word. “And he is sorry,” Mofe said. “Stop.” “He is.” “I said stop.” “Ezinne, please let me finish.” “I do not want to hear how sorry he is.” “You need to know why I met him.” “I already know why he met you. He wants something.” “Yes, he does.” The blunt agreement made her turn back toward him. Mofe stood slowly. “He wants his daughter’s forgiveness,” he said. “And he wants to meet his granddaughter.” Ezinne’s face changed. “No.” “That’s fine ... I am not asking you to do anything today.” “Azora is not his concern.” “That's fine. I told him that decision was yours.” “He does not get to ask for her. He does not suddenly become a grandfather because he has decided he is lonely.” “I know.” “Then why are you standing here defending him?” “I am not defending him.” “It sounds like you are.” “I am telling you what happened, what I saw at the meeting.” Her breathing had become uneven again. Mofe got up and moved one step closer to her, then stopped when her shoulders stiffened. “He begged me to help him make things right,” he said. “he did not demand. He did not threaten. He begged, Ezinne.” Ezinne gave a bitter smile. “My father does not beg.” “He did today.” That silenced her. Mofe watched the words settle over her, painful and unwanted. “He is asking for a chance to apologise to you,” Mofe continued. “He has owned every mistake he made. He wants a chance to mend the relationship.” Ezinne shook her head repeatedly. “No. He does not get to decide he wants a relationship now. Did you tell him this would be easy breezy for him? “I told him it would take time,” Mofe said. “I told him it would take patience and that he would have to trust me not to push you before you were ready.” “So the two of you made plans about me,” Ezinne said quietly. “You agreed that you would gradually push and coax me until I forgave him?” The accusation was softer than her earlier anger, but it cut far deeper. Mofe’s expression tightened. “No. I swear to you, I made no such promise.” “But you told him you would help him.” Yes, I did.” Mofe held her gaze even though she could not see him. “I told him I would try,” he admitted. “But I also told him that you would not be pressured.” Ezinne said nothing, but he knew she was thinking. If only he knew what was going through that mind of hers. “I think I've said enough for now. The decision remains with you, and you are free to refuse,” Mofe continued. “You can tell me never to mention him again, and I will respect it.” Her lips parted slightly. “I am not here to force reconciliation on you,” he said. “I am not asking you to forgive him because he is old or sorry. I am not asking you to forget anything.” “Then what are you asking?” “Nothing really,” he shrugged. The answer seemed to surprise her, because she raised her brows in surprise, and then frowned in confusion. Mofe’s voice softened. “I never planned to tell you any of this today, but you asked why I stayed away for four days, and I didn't want to lie to you. I could have said I stayed away from you because of my Aunt's revelation, but that would have been another lie.” He took another careful step toward her. “Ezinne, I am so damn exhausted from half-truths, lies and secrets. Anything not exposed immediately becomes even harder to address later. I saw an opening today and took it. I have already made one too many decisions behind your back,” he said. “I will not do that with this.” She listened quietly, and something in her expression told her she believed him. Her shoulders slumped, releasing some of the tension she’d been holding on to. Ezinne’s hands lowered slowly to her sides. “He does not deserve my forgiveness,” she whispered. “He watched me suffer. He chose his pride over me, so he should live with the consequences of his decisions.” Her voice broke, and Mofe’s chest ached as he heard it. He said nothing, and they both stood silently for a long moment, a few feet apart, with her face turned away from him. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. “What exactly did he say about Azora?” Mofe felt the significance of the question immediately, but he was careful not to let hope enter his voice. “He said he wanted the chance to know her.” “That is all?” “He said he had already lost too many years with you. He did not want to lose all of them with her too.” Ezinne’s fingers curled against her dress. Mofe continued gently, “He asked what she was like.” “And what did you tell him?” “I told him she was intelligent. Curious. Stubborn, and he said she was just like you. That you gave him hell as a child.” Despite herself, Ezinne’s mouth twitched. Mofe saw it and continued. “I told him she remembers everything and argues like a lawyer when she thinks she is right.” “She gets that from you,” Ezinne said quietly. “Your father and I agree that she gets it from you,” he countered. Ezinne lowered herself carefully into the armchair again, as though the conversation had suddenly become too heavy to carry standing up. Mofe returned to the stool in front of her but did not touch her. “You do not have to decide anything,” he said. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow.” She sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “And if I never want to see him?” “Then I will tell him.” “You would accept that?” “It is your choice.” Her head lifted slightly. Mofe held his position, resisting the urge to move closer. “I mean it,” he said. “He may be sorry. He may have changed. He may want another chance with everything in him. But finally, it's up to you. And I'm on your team one hundred per cent.” Ezinne’s shoulders eased only slightly. “But you think I should meet him.” Mofe gave her his honest thought. “I think you deserve the opportunity to hear what he has to say,” he answered carefully. “But only when you are ready. And if you never are, that will be something he has to live with.” Ezinne went quiet again, and he could not tell whether she was angry, considering his words, or simply too tired to fight anymore. But he could feel her withdrawing again, retreating behind the careful silence she used whenever a conversation became too painful. He knew he should stop. He had already pushed harder than he intended, but there was something else she needed to know. Mofe leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Ezinne, I know this will be difficult to hear, especially coming from me, but I think everything your father did was fuelled by love in his own way.” Her head snapped up. “Oh please! Mofe, don’t start with that again.” “Believe me, I’m not excusing him,” He said, keeping his voice even. “But it sounds very much like you are.” He shook his head. “I said his actions came from love. I did not say they were right.” Her mouth hardened. “Love does not force a woman into an abusive marriage. Love does not take away every choice she has. Stop trying to dress cruelty up as affection simply because he regrets it now.” Mofe sighed and rose from the stool. He moved a few steps away, searching for the right words before he caused another explosion between them. “I am not dressing anything up,” he said. “What he did was controlling, cruel and unforgivable in ways he may never be able to repair. But I sat across from him today, Ezinne. I listened to him speak about you. Whatever else that man is, he loves you.” She gave a brittle laugh. “How convenient for him.” “I thought the same thing.” “Then why are we still having this conversation?” “Because he told me something I think you deserve to know.” Her face turned slowly toward him. The resistance was still there, but so was caution now. “What’s that?” Mofe hesitated. He had promised the Chief that he would try his best to help, but this had not been part of the plan. He hadn't asked the Chief if Ezinne needed to know this particular information. Yet he could not stand here and speak vaguely about love when he possessed proof that the Chief’s concern had not begun with his sudden desire to meet Azora. “Your father has been supporting the centre,” he said. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 1:17am On Aug 03 |
The silence that followed was absolute. Ezinne did not move. “I … I don't understand.” “He has been making anonymous donations to your centre for years.” “No, that's not possible,” she shook her head in disbelief. “He did, Ezinne. He made substantial donations to the centre.” “No,” her voice came out as a whisper. Mofe walked back toward her. “He told me today.” “And you believed him?” “Not immediately, but I asked enough questions to realise he was telling the truth.” Ezinne shook her head. “My father has never given money to the centre.” “You never knew it came from him.” “I would have known. We sent messages to our donors. We even met them sometimes.” “He made sure his name was kept out of it.” “No, if you say he made substantial donations,” she rose abruptly from the chair. “Someone would have told me.” “Emeka knew.” The name stopped her, and Mofe watched the colour drain from her face. “What do you mean?” “He was the one managing the centre’s finances when most of the donations were made.” Ezinne’s breathing changed. “Part of the funds he stole?” “Yes.” She shook her head again, more slowly this time. “We discovered irregular transfers. Missing grants. Money that should have been used for equipment and training. But there was never anything from my father.” “Because most of it never reached the centre’s proper accounts.” Ezinne’s hand moved out, searching for the armchair she had just left. Her fingers missed the backrest by several inches. Mofe saw her knees buckle. “Ezinne!” He reached her before she fell, wrapping one arm around her waist while his other hand caught her upper arm. She sagged against him for a moment, stunned and unsteady. “I have you,” he murmured. “This cannot be true,” she whispered. “It is.” “No.” Her legs were still weak beneath her, so Mofe guided her carefully back to the armchair. He waited until she was seated before crouching in front of her, keeping one hand around hers. Her fingers were cold. “How much?” she whispered. “I don’t know the complete figure yet.” “But you said the donations were substantial.” “They were.” She swallowed. “How substantial?” “Enough to have made a considerable difference to the centre if Emeka had not diverted most of the money.” Ezinne pulled her hand from his and pressed it against her forehead. “No, there has to be some mistake. My father would never support anything I built. He thought the centre was an embarrassment. He thought I was wasting my time trying to prove I could still have a life after losing my sight.” This was news to him. “He said that?” “He said it repeatedly after the accident. He wanted me to move back to his house with Azora, but I refused and moved in with Rachel and her mother instead.” She told him. “So why would he secretly send money?” “He probably realised you were determined to make it on your own and decided to support you instead.” Mofe continued carefully. “He said he could not approach you. He knew you would reject anything that came directly from him, so he gave anonymously.” “That does not make sense. He didn't believe I would succeed with the centre,” she said adamantly. “It makes perfect sense to a proud man who wants to help his daughter without admitting he had been watching her from a distance.” Ezinne’s lips parted, but no words came. Mofe watched the emotions move across her face … disbelief, confusion, anger and something far more vulnerable that she was desperately trying to suppress. “He did it even when he was struggling financially,” Mofe added quietly. Her head turned back toward him. “What?” “He had personal debts from a side venture that failed. He was borrowing money and moving funds around to keep himself afloat. Some of the transactions I discovered when I investigated the company were connected to those debts.” “And he was still donating to the centre?” She asked. “Yes.” “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that?” “Because you mattered to him.” Tears began to gather beneath her dark glasses. Ezinne wiped at them impatiently. “Or because he felt guilty.” “Perhaps he did.” “That is more believable.” Mofe nodded patiently. “It probably was guilt.” She gave a shaky breath, almost triumphant at the admission. “Then it proves nothing.” “It proves he knew he had hurt someone he loved.” Her face tightened. Mofe sat on the stool again, still close enough to catch her if she became unsteady. “Guilt does not appear from nowhere, Ezinne,” he said. “Sometimes it comes because we have betrayed our own values. Sometimes it comes because we fear consequences. But sometimes it comes because we finally understand the pain we caused someone we love.” She remained silent. “Your father could have ignored the centre,” Mofe continued. “He could have kept his money, especially when he barely had enough. Instead, he continued supporting it without expecting you to thank him or even know.” “That still does not erase what he did.” “No. It doesn’t.” “It does not mean I have to forgive him.” “No.” “It does not mean I have to let him meet Azora.” “No one has said that.” Ezinne leaned back against the chair, her face turned toward the ceiling as she struggled to absorb everything. Mofe remained quiet, giving her time. After a long moment, she lowered her head. “What if your uncle did the same thing?” Mofe frowned, wondering at how she'd suddenly gone back to the topic of his uncle ... “What?” “What if he paid for your airfare because he felt guilty?” She asked. “That is different.” A faint smile touched her mouth. “Is it?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because we were discussing your father.” “And now I am discussing your uncle.” Mofe narrowed his eyes at her, though she could not see it. “Do not try to turn this around on me.” “You just spent the last several minutes explaining that guilt can be fuelled by love.” “In your father’s case.” “Guilt is selective now?” “That is not what I said.” “It sounded like it.” Mofe stared at her. Ezinne’s voice became almost thoughtful. “Perhaps your uncle regretted abandoning his brother’s child. Perhaps paying for your airfare was the only way he knew how to help you without having to face what he had done.” “That is an impressive argument from someone who nearly fainted when I used the same reasoning about her father.” “I did not faint.” “Your knees gave way.” “I was startled.” “You were falling.” “And you caught me.” “Because I was standing there.” She tilted her head. “Are you saying you would have allowed me to fall if you had been farther away?” Mofe’s mouth dropped open, and Ezinne’s smile deepened. He stared at her for another second before a disbelieving laugh escaped him. “You are unbelievable.” “I am only applying your own logic.” “You are twisting my logic.” “I am clarifying it.” “You are being manipulative.” “That is a very serious accusation from you,” She said with a knowing stare and then the laughter came before either of them could stop it. At first it was only a small, reluctant sound from Ezinne, still unsteady from tears. Then Mofe shook his head and laughed harder, because the entire argument had become too absurd to sustain with a straight face. Within moments, they were both laughing. The release of tension felt almost startling after everything that had passed between them. Ezinne covered her mouth, but it did nothing to contain the sound. Mofe leaned back on the stool, watching her with a warmth that spread slowly through his chest. “You really are impossible,” he said. “Well, you started it.” “I was trying to help you.” “And I was trying to help you.” “You were using my own words against me.” She shrugged, “It was excellent advice. I thought you deserved to hear it too.” Mofe laughed again, then reached out and took her hand. “Gosh, how did I forget your smart mouth is one of the reasons I love you so much,” he said without thinking. “And this is obviously where Azora gets that crafty intelligence of hers.” The laughter faded from Ezinne’s face, and Mofe realised what he had said only after the words were already between them Her fingers remained in his, still and warm. “Azora’s craftiness comes from you,” she said eventually, her voice softer now. “Everything sweet about that child comes from me.” Mofe smiled. “Naturally.” “I am glad you agree.” “I don’t. I simply know better than to begin another argument when you are sitting close enough to hit me.” “I would never hit you.” “You assaulted my chest earlier,” he reminded her. “I was trying to make you release me.” “Well you failed.” Her lips curved once again in a smile, and the sight of that small smile changed something inside him. Mofe’s gaze moved over her face, lingering on the dampness beneath her glasses and the softness that had returned to her mouth. Only a few minutes ago, she had been crying in his arms. Now she was teasing him, her hand resting willingly in his. He leaned closer before he could talk himself out of it. Ezinne felt the shift immediately. Her smile faded, and her breathing slowed. “Mofe?” “Yes?” “You are very close.” “I am.” She did not pull her hand away. He raised his free hand and brushed his knuckles gently along her cheek, wiping away the last trace of moisture there. Ezinne leaned almost imperceptibly into his touch. Mofe’s chest tightened. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. The question settled between them, quiet and heavy. Ezinne did not answer immediately. He watched her consider it, her lips parting slightly as her fingers tightened around his. He could almost feel the argument taking place inside her. Mofe waited. He did not move closer. He would not take another inch without hearing her say it. Then Ezinne drew in a slow breath. “Yes.” The single word went straight through him. “Are you sure?” She nodded. “I want you to.” Mofe closed the remaining space between them. His first touch was careful, his mouth brushing hers gently as though giving her one final chance to change her mind. Ezinne’s fingers curled into the front of his shirt, holding him there. That was all the invitation he needed. He kissed her again, deeper this time. The restraint he had been forcing on himself for days fractured almost immediately. His hand slid behind her neck, drawing her closer as her lips parted beneath his. Ezinne responded with a soft sound that sent heat racing through him, her other hand moving up to his shoulder before curling around the back of his neck. Mofe rose from the stool without breaking the kiss, bringing her with him. Ezinne swayed into his body, trusting him to hold her steady. His arm wrapped around her waist, fitting her against him while the kiss grew slower, deeper and more consuming. Every thought of her father, his uncle and the secrets still waiting between them disappeared beneath the warmth of her mouth. There was only Ezinne. Her scent. The softness of her body against his. The way she kissed him as though she had spent the past four days missing him every bit as fiercely as he had missed her. Mofe tilted his head and deepened the kiss further. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and the small pull nearly destroyed what remained of his control. He drew back only far enough to breathe, his forehead resting against hers. “Ezinne,” he whispered. She reached for him again. Her mouth found his before he could say anything else, and this time there was no hesitation in her. Mofe groaned softly and gathered her closer, kissing her with all the hunger he had tried to suppress since the last time she had been in his arms. A sharp knock sounded at the suite door, but neither of them stopped, choosing to ignore whoever was at the door. But the knock came again, louder this time. “Room service.” Mofe closed his eyes and let his forehead fall against hers, and for several seconds, the only sound in the room was their uneven breathing. Then Ezinne began to laugh softly against his mouth. “Poor timing.” Mofe groaned, tightening his arm around her waist. “Just my damned luck,” he muttered. ************** |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 1:18am On Aug 03 |
This was a crucial chapter, hence the lengthy post. The next post comes up on Thursday. Thanks for reading. |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by calmbabadee(m): 1:54am On Aug 03 |
repogirl:Eku ise |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 6:39am On Aug 03 |
calmbabadee: |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by dripzzy(f): 8:00am On Aug 03 |
Such a long update Well done repogirl |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by repogirl(op): 8:54am On Aug 03 |
dripzzy:thanks! |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by sal1974: 4:56pm On Aug 03 |
repogirl:Thanks for the update, looking forward to Thursday for the next update |
| Re: Forever And For Always BOOK II - Story By Repogirl by Frankcallys(m): 7:34pm On Aug 03 |
Gaadamn!!! Which kind room service be that kwanu? Are you sure some of these room service are not from the pit of hell? I've once been in a situation like this, we were almost there and about to to to... when that Enemy of progress messed up what could have been the best experience for both of us. She changed her mind after the distraction and that was how we never got another chance till this day. I'm still pissed till this day. Ezinne, abeg don't change your mind like mine did repogirl: |
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'You $ I ... To Be Continued' - A Romance Story By Repogirl • The Dog Attendant (T. D. A) [COUNTLESS Part 2]. A story By Darousmart Emmanuel. • PASTORZONED: A Story By Toyin Taiwo • 2 • 3 • 4
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