THE ILLUSION OF PERFECTION 24

 

As they ate in silence, the air grew thicker, not with the pull of desire, not with the tension of intimacy but with stifling emotions. The room felt so still, as if a storm was brewing. 

Nadia, frowned as unwanted memories flickered. It should have been like those evenings when she cooked with him hovering around her, leaning in to steal kisses, to sneak a taste of the meat while she swatted his hand away and laughed freely. Instead the warmth was gone, suppressed by unspoken words and a loud silence stretched thin by regrets.

Sighing inwardly, she opened her mind to Lagos drifting in through the windows—the sound of vendors calling out to customers, buses honking and the distant rumble of generators. The noise drowned her restless thoughts, strengthening her resolve not to lose focus. 

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After a brief moment, she placed her plate on the table and rose from the couch. Reaching into the basket she pulled out a flask. Setting it on the table with a soft clatter, she walked over to the kitchen, grabbed two glass cups and returned to the room. Carefully, almost ceremoniously, she poured cold water into the cups before placing them on the table.

“What happened to your phone? I tried your number earlier…” Her voice sounded louder than it should and pulled Tayo out of his tangled thoughts. 

Pausing mid-chew. he looked up at her;

“I lost it during the madness. But…I don’t think you have my new number. I got a new one after the break up...I, I mean separation.”

“I see.” She muttered calmly with a small but sharp smirk, “You couldn’t wait to move on.”

Her words landed like a slap and Tayo flinched internally. He didn’t defend himself. Didn't see the need to. Besides, she was right. Back then, he had been hungry for escape, desperate to embrace the life Deji dangled before him and Nadia was a weight he was eager to shed. Now, sitting here after the chaos, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“This is nice,” he said gesturing at the plate, “Tastes better than anything I’ve had in a long while…anyway, you’ve always been good with your hands.”

Nadia frowned as intimate memories of their past swirled to the surface. Pushing them aside, she noisily cleared her throat and reached into her gown pocket to pull out a small phone. Its casing was scratched and its screen faintly dulled with use. She placed it gently on the worn center table beside her used plate.

“I have two phones.” She said matter-of-factly, “I know this is not up to your usual standard, but you can use this until you're able to get a new one and recover your line.”

Tayo blinked, surprised. Amongst his pile of problems, was the nagging dilemma of how he would afford a new phone with his account bleeding red. He had never expected kindness from Nadia. On the contrary, he had been expecting anger, coldness. even pity from her but not this. How had he forgotten this part of her—the quiet generosity, selflessness and instinct to care even when she had every reason not to? His throat tightened as shame rose like heat.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Brushing off his gratitude with a small shake of her head, Nadia continued while reaching for her purse which was in the basket; “most of my clients call my second line so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Tayo set his plate aside and picked up the phone as if it were a silverware. He turned it over in his hands and smiled up at Nadia who was focused on smoothing down her gown instead of meeting his gaze. 

“I’ll leave you to rest and will check on you later in the evening.”

Her tone was practical, almost businesslike, but beneath it was something steady and reassuring—a quiet promise that she wasn’t abandoning him, even if she was giving him the space he had asked for. The thought eased his mounting anxiety.

Tayo nodded, even though she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. He watched her walk to the door, the old phone sitting in his palm like a quiet lifeline he didn’t deserve.

The moment the door clicked shut, he set the phone down and finished the last bite of his meal. The taste lingered like a reminder of her presence but his mind was already working. Setting the plate aside, he reached for the phone again. The weight felt unfamiliar in his hand but somehow it gave him a purpose. 

The dim screen lit up as he dialed a number he knew like the back of his hands. It connected after the third ring, and a familiar voice floated to his ear, casual and unaware of who was on the line.

“It’s me… Tayo. We need to talk.”

CONTINUE READING