PROMISE TOMORROW (Eiba Family Saga Book 2)
The “Amazing Grace” melody was taking the third round when Buki jumped over his bed to pick the call. The caller name read, “endless love.” With the phone in one hand, Buki used the other to towel-dry his head and face.
“Endless,” he said into the phone.
“I thought you’ll never pick my call.”
“I was in the bathroom, are you set?”
“Been set for the past five minutes.”
“I’ll be with in another five. Sorry love,” he said around a chuckle. The phone clinked and he smiled, as he hung up.
Modele had recently formed the habit of calling him on his cell rather than sending Toro. Even though the girl knew quite well what was going on, they tried to be civil in public. But their late nights had continued everyday for the past one week since they professed love for each other. Well, since Buki did the profession. Modele had still not told him she loved him categorically but he understood. It was not easy to get over love.
He knew how painful it was for him when he lost Roxanne in the car accident. He had been off woman for over a year, half of the time, healing from the physical damage done him. He had been in orthopaedic ward for over a month, undergone five major operations on his left leg and been in therapy for six months. He had been more scarred than he ever envisaged. Emotionally and otherwise.
Modele wore a white turtleneck sleeveless blouse over a knee-length grey suede skirt. Two gold chains hung around her neck, the shorter had no pendant, the longer, with a cross. On her waist, she wore a gold and pearl chain belt. Earrings matched the cross pendant on her chest, and she held a matching sleeveless suede jacket in one hand and a brown leather handbag in the other. Her short hair was combed smooth, her face bare of makeup. She stood up when Buki entered the private sitting room.
He stopped short and let out a long whistle. “You look ravishing, my love.”
“Same to you,” she said and they both laughed.
Buki wore ash slacks over a white polo t-shirt, black belt and black sandals. Nothing outstanding but his physique made up for it.
He led her out to the sleek corolla. “So, where are you taking me this afternoon?”
“V. I. Upstairs, men’s line,” she said.
He opened the door for her and after she was comfortably seated, turned round to drive.
He smoothly manoeuvred the vehicle. “Am I supposed to know where that is?”
“It’s a boutique. I want to change your wardrobe. Your clothes are too few,” she said, looking at him. He was silent. “What do you think?” She caressed his right hand on the steering.
“I think you are the most domineering, and overbearing, woman I’ve ever loved,” he muttered. “Tell me how to get there.” He gritted between his teeth.
“If only you could look in the mirror and see your face!” She laughed. “How many clothes do you have by the way?”
He pondered the question. “I have three sets. You have seen two. So I guess I must allow you to dominate me on this one.” He looked briefly off the road and smiled at her. “But you may not be so lucky next time.”
She traced circles on his arm. “I count my luck, and name them one by one.”
The scene resembled another that had ended in a tragedy for him. He placed his left hand gently on her hand.
“Please, don’t tease me while I’m driving,” his gruff voice was low.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. The accident?” He nodded.
She folded her hands in her laps. “How many women have you loved?”
“You sure you want to know?” he said teasingly.
“Try me.” She giggled. “How many could there possibly be?”
“Hmm. You think you know me?” He smiled. “Guess. If you think you know me.”
She rolled her eyes and hummed softly. “Maybe you had one as a teenager, due to curiosity!”
He laughed. “Double that!”
She joined in the laughter. “Ha! I must not know you as well as I thought. I was thinking, four, maybe.”
He laughed some more. “Double that.”
She clapped and laughed. “Well, well, well…”
“Before I got born-again, I had about seven or eight, can’t remember but they came one at a time,” he said. “I never could love two women at the same time.”
“And after you got born-again?”
“Only you,” he said softly.
“Really? And how many after me?”
He reached out and pulled her nose. “You are a funny girl.” He chuckled. “None. None ever.”
“Face the road, sir!”
“And you, how many men have you loved?”
“Jude. Only Jude,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“I’ll make you forget him,” he said.
She said nothing to that and the rest of the journey was in silence.
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