Love's Second Chance Read online

Page 5


  Nneka eyed her with a shrug. “I hear. Will you call me later?”

  “Sure.” They exchanged a hug before Nneka got into her Peugeot 306 and drove away.

  Efe walked over to the Hilton vehicle and got in the back. She gave the driver the address in Utako and leaned back with a sigh of dread. She didn’t think the doctor recognized her last week, but he might this time. He’d been fully aware of her relationship with Kevwe, and she guessed he would have some questions for her today. She was so confused right now.

  Honestly, while she had feared meeting Kevwe again, a part of her had looked forward to it. The possibilities had definitely increased when she moved back, but she hadn’t seen him or his twin on Facebook, and had kept her hopes buried. She hadn’t lied, but the mass of knots squeezing her insides had made her not as open as she usually was with Nneka.

  **

  Abuja. November 27, 2009. 5pm

  Kevwe stood at the window in Ofure’s office shifting looks between the view outside and his brother, who was making notes on the records of his patients. Half an hour earlier, an airport taxi had dropped him off following the flight from Lagos. Ofure had tried to dissuade him from coming, but he’d insisted.

  Now, nerves and impatience crawled over his skin like ants. He pushed open the blinds and blinked. The glare of the sun drew his attention to the massive pylons of the shadow roof over the Julius Berger head office building in the distance. He studied the sprawling Utako Market wondering if Efe was already on her way. Whatever happened, he was determined to speak with her today.

  Kevwe dropped the blinds and joined his brother at the wide table strewn with papers. Ofure’s gaze was fixed on the screen of the computer placed near the end of the table, and his right hand pushed and clicked at the mouse.

  Leaning into his chair, Kevwe sighed and closed his eyes. If he weren’t so exhausted, he would still be watching for when Efe arrived. He wanted to see her before she entered the office. Feeling Ofure’s gaze on him, he looked up to see his brother had vacated his seat and stood by the window.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Ofure asked.

  “Yes and thanks, I got tired.” His right leg throbbed, and he bent to massage it at the knee. After a while, his brother’s silence prompted Kevwe to sit up. Now facing inside, Ofure stared through the glass wall overlooking the lobby. Kevwe followed his gaze and felt a jolt when he recognized Efe standing in front of the receptionist’s desk. His first impulse was to rush out, but he forced himself to remain seated.

  When the knock came to announce her arrival, Kevwe was propelled into action. Standing, he walked over the desk and leaned against it. He wanted to be the first person Efe saw when she entered the office. He glanced over his shoulder, and realized with Ofure would be out of view from the door if he remained by the window.

  He wondered if his brother had moved deliberately, and then the door opened again and Efe stepped in, driving all thought away. If it was possible, she looked exactly as he remembered her.

  “Good evening, Doctor,” she said, coming further into the room.

  “Good day, Ms. Sagay,” Ofure stepped away from the window.

  Kevwe noted the moment Efe realized there were two of them. She stopped walking, and her mouth sagged. Her eyes closed and opened again as if she’d seen a ghost. As she looked from one brother to the other, she took a step backward. “No...”

  He was shocked when she slumped. Close enough to catch her, he could do nothing as she slid to the floor. Not only had his knee frozen up, the last thing he wanted was physical contact. He didn’t trust the feelings surging inside him; surprise warred with joy and attraction, and anger threatened to overshadow them all.

  Ofure strode to Efe’s side, picked her with ease and sat her on the sofa. Kevwe watched as he pushed her head between her knees.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Ofure commanded. “Get a nurse.”

  Kevwe felt lightheaded as he left the support of the desk, and only his slamming heart kept him on his feet. Seeing her after these years left him weak. She’d been his world for a time, a time when he’d planned a future which included visiting and living in this same city with her. This was one of the reasons he’d decided against Abuja when choosing the base for his company, not even when Ofure returned and settled here.

  **

  7

  Abuja. November 27, 2009. 5.30pm

  Efe raised her head with a jerk, but there was no one else in the room. The white walls pressed in on her, and she closed her eyes, putting a hand to her pounding temple. She must have imagined what she saw earlier. The door opened, and her eyes flew open. Kevwe’s twin closed the bathroom and door walked over, handing her a small towel soaked with cold water.

  “Let me guess, you didn’t eat today,” he said.

  Efe thought of her Wakkis lunch and shook her head, pressing the towel to her face. At least there was no nausea, or she would’ve disgraced herself further. “I’m sorry. Did I faint?”

  He nodded, and she blamed her high-strung nerves for seeing what was not there. His twin gestured at a glass of chilled water on the table beside her, and she gulped down some. As she put back the glass, she noticed the files she’d dropped stacked there, and wondered who put them there if the doctor had gone to get the towel. Was it possible Kevwe was here? Wouldn’t he had let her know if he wanted to meet and talk to her?

  “You’re the same Efe Sagay who dated my brother while you guys were in university.” He walked to the desk, and shoved some files aside to lean on it.

  Efe looked at him and scrambled for what to say. She wanted to ask if Kevwe was around, but didn’t want to appear the fool.

  “Why didn’t you tell me when we met last week?”

  Efe glared at him, needled by his threatening tone, and she did not understand his hostility too. Hadn’t she left Kevwe when they asked? She was the one who’d been hurt here, not him or his twin.

  “I see no reason for you to speak to me that way.”

  The door swung open, and her voice died away on seeing Kevwe walk into the room. A nurse was behind him. Efe blinked, moving her head from side to side. Her eyes hadn’t been deceiving her; Kevwe had been there earlier when she came in. Without saying another word, Ofure took the nurse’s arm, and they left the room.

  Efe sat up immediately. She couldn’t believe this was real. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

  She jumped to her feet, marching to the desk and dumping Ofure’s business report. As much as she wanted to leave this office, she didn’t want to repeat the journey. Kevwe had caught her unawares this time, and she would not give him another opportunity. Being alone with him in this enclosed space was doing strange things to her, and she would be most happy if she could get out without having to speak with him. She took a deep breath and then tried to push past Kevwe who stood at the door.

  He snagged her wrist. “You’re not going anywhere!”

  Efe stared at a point beyond him. She didn’t want to deal with this. It had become apparent once she saw his brother she might run into him, but she had hoped it would not happen so soon. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. This man had broken her heart so badly. Her young self had adored him, allowed him into her heart, and shared her body with him. But he’d sent her away when it wasn’t enough.

  She finally faced him, and her stomach quaked as warmth trickled over her skin. He looked even more stunning, more rugged. His dark latte skin and chiseled lips were sexy as hell. His hand on the skin of her inner wrist raised dormant feelings. She could not bear the heat in his eyes and closed hers, in a bid to wipe away the effect he had on her. They stood like that for another moment.

  “Please let me go, you’re hurting me,” she finally said, though the spell they wove together still held her in its clutches. Waves of memories heaved over her, and she was powerless against them.

  Kevwe’s hand loosened and dropped.

  Efe looked at him then. “You promised you would never break my
heart, Kevwe, but that was what you did seven years ago.” The words escaped before she could stop them; they’d been on her lips for so long. All her pain had come from there seven years ago. He’d drawn her out, past her caution, to a place of trust with him, and then dashed it all. Tears threatened, but she blinked them away.

  Kevwe reached out again but she walked out, ignoring his call to stay, and he was left staring into space, reminded of past promises. He finally sank down on the settee Efe had just vacated, unable to handle the emotions buffeting him. Her perfume filled his nostrils, and he closed his eyes, recalling the softness of the skin of her wrist, and yearning for more of her touch. He did not regret coming to Abuja, but this was hitting him harder than he’d thought. What had she meant by those last words?

  “She said you broke your promises?” Ofure was back in the office. “They must mean a lot to her. But wasn’t it the other way?”

  Kevwe shook his head. Efe was under his skin, and maybe it would take more than one discussion to get to the root of this. He’d kept all the promises they made over the years they were together, and confusion was not something he could abide.

  “I hope you’re not quitting?” Not after you charged up here all the way from Lagos, just to meet her?”

  Their eyes met then, and Kevwe scrambled to his feet and marched after Efe. The receptionist eyed him as he passed through the front hall of the hospital and out the door, checking to see if it was Ofure. Cursing the accident which gave people a way to tell them apart, Kevwe kept moving till he arrived at the car park, a large area enclosed by the high fence which surrounded the hospital. Several cars were parked in the front row, and he caught up with Efe just as she was about to enter the back seat of a branded Hilton vehicle.

  “I want to speak with you.”

  “I don’t want to speak to you. Leave me alone, please.” Turning away, she fumbled at the door handle again. Her driver started the engine with a quizzical stare.

  “No, I won’t,” Kevwe said in a dangerous tone.

  Efe stopped moving but did not look at him. Finally, she stepped away from the car and walked some paces to the back row of the lot where there were fewer cars and no drivers.

  Kevwe guessed she didn’t want the driver to see Big Madam in a state, and followed with a grim smile. Well, he wouldn’t take her time. The only thing he wanted to know was what he did to deserve her betrayal. When he first found out Efe ditched him, he hadn’t believed it. But after several weeks of agonizing therapy, when he sent for her many times with no success, he had come to the realization that what his parents said was true.

  “Efe, how could you have abandoned me after the accident? Tell me, because I want to know.”

  Kevwe’s gaze held hers, and in the depths of his eyes, Efe saw all the emotions she’d wanted to see him suffer. Pain, doubt, and fear, were emotions that had wracked her as she struggled to get over him, and along with sorrow, need, and helplessness, they still plagued her. A mask of anger fell over his face, tightening his lips before he turned away. He threw up his hands, walked two steps towards the hospital building then stopped.

  Efe noticed the uneven gait immediately, and her mind whirled. The last weeks she’d spent in Benin before finally leaving the city came to her mind. Nobody had said anything about an accident. But Kevwe’s limp was real, and when she looked closer, she noticed a large scar on the back of his head.

  Kevwe turned to Efe, and the reason he was in Abuja. He wouldn’t apologize for surprising her. She owed him an explanation, so he could put closure on their past together. Who would’ve thought her a betrayer, and at the time he needed her most? He recalled their days of love, then the day he finally came to, weeks after the accident. How, if not for Ofure, he might have died.

  Efe stood in silent shock. Kevwe had been in an accident? It was shocking to know she could’ve lost him, and not known. Could she be wrong about his rejection, and he only turned her away because of his handicap? And, while she’d cried only for lost love, he’d suffered both physical and as emotional wounds?

  “Efe, why did you leave me? Was it truly because of my injuries or the lure of America?” Kevwe searched her face as he asked questions which had kept him awake for long nights in the past, wondering if falling in love with her ten years ago had been a mistake.

  “Kevwe, I didn’t leave you!” she said, blinking furiously against welling tears. Close up, her gaze flew over him, and she noted all the changes, big and small.

  The wall she’d built around her heart cracked then, and in the next minute, she stood before him. She cupped his chin in her palm, and smoothed a finger along the faint line running from his ear and into his collar. Her other hand traced the scar on his temple, above the thick eyebrow, and then she broke down into loud sobs, crumpling into his chest.

  Kevwe didn’t understand her game, but he couldn’t help himself. A part of him wanted to rejoice at her pain, but the sound of her tears brought him no joy. Rather, feeling her against him brought memories of sweet kisses from bygone years. His arms noted how she’d grown and matured, her fuller breasts, and more rounded hips.

  Tears almost escaped his eyes as he held her tight, and a damp circle stained the front of his shirt when he finally pushed her away.

  “I didn’t even know you had an accident or any injuries…” She didn’t look at him, fumbling in her handbag for something to wipe her face. Being in his arms had felt so poignant, and she wished it was so easy to forget everything and remain there.

  “Please, don’t tell me that!” Kevwe grated from between clenched teeth, hardening his heart against the flood of memories. “You surely knew!”

  Efe stopped sniveling and lifted her face slowly from the wet hanky in her hands. Kevwe’s voice had been soft, at the same time, there was a hard edge to it. She searched his face and found only angry defensiveness. Her heart felt like a brittle shard of ice that would shatter if he made the accusation one more time.

  Kevwe laughed, not because he was amused, but he didn’t want to be trapped into a corner by the tears burning beneath the surface of her eyes. “My father sent several messages to tell you about my accident.”

  “I didn’t get them!” Efe shouted, almost falling as dizzy blood rushed in her ears. She wound her arms round her midriff for strength, feeling terrible Kevwe believed she’d abandoned him. She’d loved Kevwe with everything in her, and would’ve stood by him through anything.

  “But when you finally came,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “You handed over our ring and said you couldn’t marry me. You didn’t want a crippled man for life. So pardon me for accepting you left, because I didn’t see you by my side when it mattered most.”

  His voice became more intense with each word, and the unbounded rage struck at her. It beat her back to their years in UniBen, her final days in Warri, and her first years in the States. She remembered the constant state of loss and pain she’d been left with, and the nightmares that had choked her with the dead remains of their love. She could not deal with it here while he gloated. She stared at him with tear-soaked eyes till he stopped.

  She fished in her handbag and then thrust a business card at him, “Contact me when you’re ready to listen to my own version of events. I think we’re done here.”

  Kevwe grabbed her arm as she passed by him, twisting her to face him. They stared at each other, breathing hard. He wasn’t sure if it was passion or anger that filled him, and he didn’t know whether to wrap her in a hug, or shake her till her teeth rattled.

  She looked up and met his eyes. “Release me, now.” For someone who seemed plain enraged, he was doing a lot of holding on to her. What did he want? Could he want more than just an explanation from her? Was there any hope for them?

  “So you can run off to your American dream again?” Kevwe snarled, and then turned to stalk into the building.

  **

  8

  Abuja. November 27, 2009. 6.30pm

  Kevwe was in a daze as he entered
Ofure’s office and closed the door behind him. He continued placing one foot in front of the other till he reached the settee, before stumbling into the succor it offered. His head sunk to his knees and spots appeared before his eyes. Only his twin’s voice in his head drew him out of the dark place.

  “You didn’t listen to her,” Ofure said.

  Kevwe sat up and rested his head over the back of the settee. “We used to talk so easily, but her desertion has ruined that now.” He went over what happened in the car park again. The years had been too long and the wounds too deep. He’d thought himself over her after all these years, but he knew now it was not so.

  After some silence, Kevwe glared at his brother. People often said Ofure could be as obstinate as a mule when it suited him. Right now, Ofure believed Kevwe had handled the meeting with Efe badly, and he wanted him to know it too.

  “You’re wrong!” Kevwe burst out, “You know how it was, or do I have to explain it again? You were there for the worst months of that dreadful time.”

  “Yes I was,” Ofure said. He stood up from behind the desk, and picked up the lab coat hanging on the bathroom door, shrugging it on as he turned. “So what will you do now?” he asked, sitting on the chair opposite Kevwe.

  “I don’t know,” Kevwe replied with a sigh. His mind raced to the past, and the pain of those days felt immediate, as if it just happened. And it had, there in the car park. Ofure stood up, and his awareness of where he was returned with a jolt.

  “Can you imagine, she said she didn’t know of the accident?” Kevwe asked. When Ofure shook his head, he continued, “I don’t know, I just don’t know what to think. I wish we could return to the early years... ” He broke off, and the silence stretched painful memories over him. The worst was her absence from his hospital bedside, when he knew Efe had chosen her freshly minted American green card over the cripple he’d been.