I Married My Enemy’s Crush / Chapter 7: After the Storm
I Married My Enemy’s Crush

I Married My Enemy’s Crush

Author: Isaiah Williams


Chapter 7: After the Storm

7

When Chuka come out, I don bath finish for guest bathroom.

Bathroom wey dey cold, I just dey wrap towel, dey fresh. Na so I dey shine like pounded yam for Christmas.

"You take time, Chuka."

I stand by table, dey sip water, dey look the guy, chest bare, hair push back, eye down.

The guy dey look fresh, but e dey shy, e no wan look my face straight.

E bend, carry me with one hand, drop me for sofa, help me wear slippers.

The way e carry me, e soft like say I be breakable plate. Na that kain care dey sweet for belle.

How this guy take manage no get any warmth?

For person wey dey cold outside, e fit warm you for inside. E be like harmattan morning and hot pap.

As I dey reason, I see Chuka dey look my collarbone, hand dey shake for my ankle.

"Wetin happen?"

I look am, confused.

E chest dey rise, then e calm down:

"No be anything. You dey hungry?"

The way e dodge question, I dey suspect say e dey jealous.

"No, watermelon dey fridge. Go bring am."

I curl for sofa, find soft spot.

Chuka carry pillow, put for my back, waka go kitchen.

As I dey watch am, I remember that look before—like stray dog wey dem abandon.

Confused, danmaku flash again:

[Chuka no dey quick. E no see say na scratch mark be that?]

[Hahaha, na the person wey dey inside matter dey always blind pass.]

[Chuka: No wahala, others na passerby—I be her real home.]

Omo, my mind dey do fast forward, na wah for this kain love.

Wahala.

I grumble, waka reach mirror. That small red mark for my collarbone wey I scratch just dey show.

I poke am, bend look well.

I hear sound. I turn—Chuka stand, carry plate of watermelon, eye red and misty.

E dey look me like person wey dey try hold tears, but still wan show say e get mind.

After small time, e force smile:

"Chop watermelon."

The way e talk, my heart melt small. I fit see the love for him eye.

I chop one, talk:

"Chuka, that mark—"

"Rain don stop."

Chuka cut me off soft.

E look me, eye dey beg.

I fit see say e no wan hear gist about another guy at all. E just wan protect him heart.

Then e rush go change cloth, carry trash, comot.

For my mind, I dey laugh, this guy dey act like Naija papa wey dey form hard but soft inside.

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