Chapter 3 Three

AIDA I could see the disgust in Caleb's face as he turned to face Mike. "This has nothing to do with you" he said dragging me to a different corner in the room I didn't fight him when he dragged me toward the deserted corner near the seldom-used storage units after the meeting. The AC hummed softly above us, a dull contrast to his loud frustration. A few heads turned, pretending not to listen. They better not listen. I saw Mercy frown at me,I knew she was tired of him doing this to me but couldn't tell me. I knew the others were, too.

The disappointment wasn't just mine; it was reflected on every averted face. This tantrum, fueled by jealousy, was a predictable choreography I had mastered. I used to believe this intensity was the measure of his love, a protective instinct he couldn't control. Now, I simply understood it as his lack of control, his refusal to seek a better way to treat the woman he claimed to cherish. I couldn't recall the last time we had shared intimacy that didn't feel like a territorial skirmish. He used to write love notes on napkins. Now he throws tantrums in public like a child. It used to be me smiling at his passion. Now my skin crawls at the sound of his voice. It was me and him against the world. Now it is him against me. We were the IT couple. In my head though but regardless still. When did it get this bad? I watched the muscles around his mouth tense and release, forming rapid, soundless words. I had long ago learned how to shut down my ears and brain whenever he starts behaving like he doesn't have home training. It helps a lot with the pain and anger I usually felt when I listen to him So I watched him. After a few moments of zoning out I realized I didn't have the time for this no more. "Babe please, we're at the office, this isn't the right place to do all these" I said while gently rubbing his arm, feeling how strong the biceps are, The hardness of the muscle was immediately transporting, flashing me back to a time when that strength had been a source of comfort, not intimidation. Even now, in the middle of this mess, a confusing, unwelcome wave of residual physical hunger hit me, a painful reminder of what we used to be. He snatched his arm away, the rejection sharp and deliberate. I pulled my hand back and gave him one last look, not of anger, but of utter, final resignation, the kind that says I'm done trying without a single word. He can keep ranting. I've got reports to turn in, peace to protect and sanity to maintain. When I was just about to turn and leave, I heard footsteps. Without turning my head I could see the new guy's gaze on us - first on Caleb, then on me, his gaze lingered a little longer than it should have, then he walked past. "See what I'm saying!" Caleb finally spat out. I just walked away, leaving him standing there in the corner, muttering to the humming AC. Entering my tiny cubicle,a flimsy barrier against the day's events and rested my forehead on the cool, hard surface of my desk. Today is going to be a long day. And it was - but at least it eventually came to an end. At around 4pm before leaving i decided to text Caleb "..................I'm really sorry for what happened today, it wasn't my intention to make you feel that way". I couldn't come up with what to write cause I did nothing wrong, but for peace to reign I just had to send it . I stood up and left the office. I was standing in front of the building, battling the rush hour crowd and trying desperately to flag down a keke, when a nice, flashy white car, a vehicle that screamed generational wealth pulled up silently beside me. It was Mike. How the hell can an 'orientation trainee' afford that? I instantly dismissed the thought; clearly, his parents were wealthy, and this was just his playground. "Do you mind if I drop you off" His voice was soothing, Too soothing. The kind that makes you want to say yes to anything. For a second, I forgot Caleb was supposed to be coming out to meet me. "Naaa, I'm good. Maybe next time. Thanks for offering," I said, trying to seem cool and casual, but the smile I flashed was probably too wide and definitely strained. What is wrong with me? I'm sure he found my smile creepy. "Okay then, if you insist." He paused, his expression serious now, his composure slipping slightly. "Sorry to ask, but who was the guy I saw you with earlier". Fair question. "He's my boyfriend," I said, the words barely audible, just as Caleb's heavy presence materialized beside me. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend," Caleb cut in, his voice sharp and possessive. "So if you'd kindly move your car, we'd like to stop keke and be on our way, you're blocking the road." That was rude, unnecessary, and guaranteed to cost me my peace later, but I decided I'd talk to him when we got back to his place. I couldn't afford another public shouting match. "I didn't get your name," Mike said, completely ignoring Caleb's existence. His gaze was fixed solely on mine. "Mine's Mike." "Aida," I managed quietly, avoiding Caleb's eyes, the heat of his anger now radiating off him like a furnace. Mike gave us a small wave, honked once, and finally drove off. I could practically feel the heat radiating off Caleb. He was boiling in anger. This night won't be funny. Again. MIKE As Mike pulled the heavy door shut and merged into traffic, his eyes narrowed, the smooth white car serving as a shield. I walked into my apartment, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto the bed. The day had been long and that little scene outside the office didn't help. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Was that guy hurting her? She didn't exactly look scared, but still something felt off. I really hoped she was safe. Why am I this concerned? I shook off the thoughts, took off my clothes, and headed to the enormous marble bathroom. I turned on the tap to fill the deep, wide tub and admired the space while I waited. This bathroom, with its cool blue and white tones, felt like floating under a serene, private sky. Serene. Clean. Mine. Mine again. I eased into the jacuzzi, letting the cold water wrap around my body, seeking the mental reset I desperately needed. Knock. Knock. Ugh. Grace. I stepped out, wrapped a towel around my waist, and opened the door. "Oga, good evening. What would you like for dinner?" she asked, as polite as ever. With her usual smile. She had this two tribal marks on both cheeks that made her look like a bush cat, whoever did that to her face will not live well. "Egusi soup," I said, without thinking. "The one you brought me yesterday. Thank you." She nodded and headed off. The house was so quiet I could hear her soft footsteps echoing down the hallway. Ten minutes later, she returned, balancing a tray of food on her arms. "Your food, sir," she said, placing it gently on the glass side table. Just as she was about to leave, she paused at the door. "Oga... Big Oga say make you come down when you don chop finish. He dey wait for you," she added in pidgin. I smiled to myself. I loved how she switched from English to pidgin, Like family. "Okay. Tell him I'll be down shortly."