SHEM

It had been a full week since Shem declared the lockdown, a necessary measure, or so he told himself. It was the only way he knew to keep Kaweme safe. She had summoned him earlier to likely put an end to the arrangement, clearly not seeing the need for it, yet he knew he made the right call.

Inside the house, she was secure. Inside the house, his job was easier.

But inside the house also meant he was around… them.

Around Kaweme.

Around Malaika.

And Malaika was growing on him like a wildflower in the cracks of a pavement.

He tried to avoid her. He really did.

But somehow she was always there, showing up in the gym just before him, never once late, never once missing. She only ever walked on the treadmill. Never jogged. Never did anything else. And she always picked the treadmill directly opposite where he lifted weights.

And she always… watched.

Like it was a show. Like he was in the show. Like her workouts were just an excuse.

It made him feel like he was under a microscope. But not in a bad way.

In a way that… fueled him.

On days he wanted to skip the gym, he still came. For her gaze. For the unspoken attention. For the subtle smile she gave sometimes, as if to say, “I see you.”

Every day, she wore a new gym outfit. Not just clothes, full looks.

Bright colors, coordinated scrunchies, soft perfumes, and that delicate gold jewelry on her wrist that had no business being worn to a gym.

She was soft. Frilly. Feminine.

And Shem was beginning to realize he liked it. All of it.

Today was supposed to be the last day of the lockdown, and he wanted to extend it, even though Kaweme had been counting down like a prisoner marking chalk on a wall.

“You can’t extend it, Shem. I’ll lose my mind.”

He didn’t blame her.

Nothing strange had happened in days. The tails had fallen off. No more strange cars, no more shadows. It should have made him relax, but it didn’t.

It made him anxious.

Predators didn’t disappear, they changed tactics.

Still, the house had grown too quiet. He’d dismissed the outside men. It was time for things to look normal again.

He was about to leave the gym, sweaty, shirt clinging to his body, when he heard a loud thump.

Malaika had tripped.

She yelped, her body sprawled awkwardly across the treadmill belt, ankle twisted at an angle. Shem rushed to her side.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know! I think… I think I sprained it.”

She winced as he touched it, her hand swatting his arm. “Ah! It hurts!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” smiling despite himself. The fall didn’t feel like a big deal if she wasn’t a big baby.

“You’re smiling! You’re actually smiling while I’m in pain,” she shot back, eyes narrowed.

Shem couldn’t help it. “You’re dramatic.”

“I’m in pain!” she wailed.

He sighed. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“I can’t walk.”

“I figured.” Without another word, he lifted her into his arms, all heat and muscle, and carried her inside.

“This is so embarrassing,” she muttered, hiding her face.

He set her gently on the living room couch. “Stay there. I’ll get balm.”

A few minutes later, he returned with a balm and sat beside her, gently stretching the affected leg.

She screamed again. “You’re trying to kill me.”

Shem smirked. “You’ve always been this fragile?”

“I’m not fragile. I’m injured.”

“Mm-hmm.”

They sat in silence for a moment, him rubbing balm into her ankle, her breathing steadying.

Then she said, “Now I can’t drive.”

“Were you going somewhere today?”

“Yes, actually,” she said with a pout. “Maybe you should take me. Japheth is going out with Kaweme for cake tasting, menu sampling, and venue walkthrough. You know, all the coupley stuff. So you are free, and now that I’ve fallen, and can’t walk, I need someone to drive me.”

Shem gave her a look. “So this whole drama was a setup?”

She gasped. “No! I mean… maybe a little. But not really. I actually fell.”

“Hmm.”

“I just thought… maybe you could help me, but if you can’t, I will understand, it’s fine, I can call a friend.”

“Where exactly are you going?”

“The Mall, to run errands. Bridesmaid accessories, body shapers, satin robes, candles, baskets, madness.” She grinned. “I just need… a helper. A backup driver. You.”

He stared at her.

“I sprained my ankle, not because I want to stress you,” she added, all innocence and glittering eyes.

Shem sighed, unable to resist her.. “Fine. I’ll take you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to distract you from your duty.”

“Go bathe, Malaika. Go get ready. Just tell me when you’re ready to leave.”

“Yay! Thank you!” she squealed, and jumped up…

Shem blinked. “Wait, I thought you couldn’t walk?”

She froze mid-step, then giggled. “Oh. Adrenaline, or maybe the balm is working.”

And before he could say another word, she dashed out of the room, her laughter echoing behind her.

Shem sat there, balm still in hand, staring at the door, smiling.

This girl.

KAWEME

Some minutes later

Malaika stood in front of the mirror, holding up two outfits with the kind of desperation that came from not having access to her full wardrobe.

“I swear, I’m going to lose my mind,” she muttered. “Nothing fits the vibe today.”

Just then, Kaweme burst into the room with her own wardrobe emergency. “This or that?” she asked, holding up a silk top in one hand and a floaty dress in the other.

Malaika lit up and snatched the floaty dress, but Kaweme held on to it. 

“Whatever you wear, Japheth is going to like it. It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you helping me or helping yourself?”

Malaika rolled her eyes. “This is you helping me. My whole closet is at home and I can’t get to it right now. So you, madam, need to hook me up.”

Kaweme turned, surprised. “Wait, do you have a date?”

“No, no, no,” Malaika said quickly. “Nothing like that. I just… I have errands.”

“Errands?”

“Yes. For you, I might add. Everything I’m doing today is in service to your fabulous upcoming wedding. I asked Shem to take me out.”

“Wait… Shem?”

“Well, you don’t need him right? Japheth is taking you. So I made arrangements with Shem to help me, and he agreed.”

Kaweme narrowed her eyes. “So why are you trying to look cute for Shem?”

Malaika gasped. “I’m not trying to look cute for Shem! I’m trying to look cute for me.”

A beat of silence.

Then Kaweme smiled. “I see what’s going on. You like him.”

Malaika didn’t even pretend. “I like him. I like him, I like him. And I think I can make him like me too.”

Kaweme flopped onto the bed, shaking her head. “What do you even mean?”

“I’ve been going to the gym every day,” Malaika said, practically bouncing with glee. “You’ve seen it. And I always catch him watching me. Or maybe I’m watching him and he’s not saying anything, which is basically the same thing. If he was irritated, he would have stopped showing up. But he keeps coming. So I think we’re watching each other now.”

Kaweme groaned, but Malaika was undeterred. “Girl… just give me something to wear. Something cute. I was supposed to go home yesterday to get clothes, but today is an emergency. Save your girl.”

“To what end?” Kaweme asked, tossing her the dress. “Let’s say you get him to like you… what then? What if it gets serious?”

“Who says I’m joking?” Malaika replied, slipping the dress over her head. “I like him. The guy is so…”

“You don’t know anything about him!”

“Exactly. Which is part of the thrill. I like the package. I like the broody, quiet thing he’s got going. I like that he listens. I like the way he looks at me, like I’m a puzzle wrapped in glitter. You know I love an audience.”

Kaweme couldn’t help laughing. “You’re not okay.”

“I’m strategic. Today, I get to know him.”

“By tricking him into driving you to go shopping?”

Malaika smirked. “That’s what he thinks. But I’ve got other plans. This is not about shopping at all. It’s about unraveling the man behind the muscles.”

Kaweme shook her head, smiling. “I can’t even focus on your nonsense right now. I’m just happy I finally get to go out. One week inside this house? I was beginning to hear voices.”

“Yeah, about that,” Malaika said, flopping onto the bed. “What’s the plan now? Is Japheth still pretending everything’s fine?”

“Pretending?” Kaweme echoed. “More like protecting. He says not to worry. He and Shem have set some kind of trap. They’re watching everything, but they don’t want me stressing about it.”

Malaika frowned. “That’s wild. Because when Japheth said he was taking you out today, Shem told him he had a full schedule. Like, very full. He said something about today being the final move in whatever plan they’ve been building.”

Kaweme blinked. “Wait… and now he’s taking you out?”

“Don’t ruin this for me,” Malaika said quickly. “He’s a multitasker. He can protect the country and still carry a girl to buy satin robes.”

“You’re impossible,” Kaweme said, laughing. “Stop distracting my brother-in-law.”

“Too late,” Malaika said, twirling. “Mission already in progress.”

—————————————————————————————————————————

                                                               SHEM

Today wasn’t supposed to be for babysitting, or for driving a girl who thought he looked mysterious. But here Shem was, parked outside the house, freshly showered, dressed in clean black jeans, a crisp black shirt, and boots. He didn’t wear cologne, never did, but he used antiperspirant. It was his version of effort.

The truth was, today was supposed to be the most critical day in their operation. He and his team had finally placed a tracker on the vehicle that had been following Kaweme. Today was the first leg of surveillance, to follow the trail, trace the route, and get to the real masterminds behind everything. He was meant to be behind his laptop, coordinating the sting and, when the time was right, alert his contacts in the police to move in.

But of course, things never happened that cleanly. He told himself today couldn’t possibly be the day they cracked it all open. It would take time, days, maybe weeks, so why deny himself a little lightness in the meantime?

That’s what he called it: practice. Practice for being a soft guy. He wasn’t going to let her affect him or lose focus.

Then Malaika opened the car door.

The scent hit first. Something floral and expensive. Her dress, God, her dress, was fitted, and fluttered just right. She smiled as she got into the car, the kind of smile that said she knew she was affecting him. He, in return, wore his best weapon: the unreadable face.

“So where are we going?” he asked, as if his heartbeat wasn’t doing footwork drills.

She gave him the address. He typed it into the GPS and started driving, silently hoping she wouldn’t talk too much.

But of course, Malaika had other plans.

“So, what exactly do you do?” she asked, turning to him. “I mean, apart from this secret agent thing. Kaweme said you’re a soldier. What kind of soldier?”

Shem kept his eyes on the road. “The regular kind.”

“Do you go to war?”

“I’ve been to war,” he said, voice steady. “But I’m mostly on strategy. Reconciliation. Investigations. Route planning. Logistics. Occasionally holding a gun.”

“Oh, so you’re like an office soldier?”

Shem side-eyed her. “We’re all officers. What are you saying?”

She giggled. “No, you know what I mean. Like the difference between someone who flies drones and someone in the trenches.”

“I’ve been in the trenches four times,” he said. “Once during a terrorist infiltration at the border. It wasn’t just planning, we had to act.”

Malaika’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God. That’s like… movie stuff. You’re a hero. Everyone says Zambia is peaceful, but it’s people like you who make it so.”

Shem snorted. “You’re very dramatic.”

“Thank you,” she said proudly. “Do you want to know what I do?”

“I already know,” he replied.

“Really? What do I do?”

“Nothing.”

Her mouth dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Well… you don’t go anywhere, you don’t do anything. Only someone with no job can pack all their things and just… move in with their friend.”

“So I’m just some spoiled brat to you?” she said, voice raised.

Shem lifted a shoulder. “Didn’t say that.”

She huffed. “I’m in a phase. I’m figuring out my purpose.”

“Hmm.” He paused, then asked, “What did you study in school?”

“Music.”

That surprised him. “Music?”

“Yes. I love music. I actually produce beats, well, I’m trying to be a music producer. But no one takes me seriously. They think I’m just some rich man’s daughter playing around.”

Shem nodded slowly. “Do you put your stuff out?”

“I don’t know how. I mean, I’ve tried, but people just assume I’m expensive. Or not good.”

“Let me hear it,” he said.

“What? No.”

“Come on. Play something.”

“You’ll laugh at me.”

“Just play it.”

She hesitated, then connected her phone to the car speakers. A smooth rhythm filled the car, layered, soulful, catchy. Shem found himself bouncing to the beat.

“This is good,” he said, surprised. “Why are you sitting on this?”

“I don’t know what to do with it,” she said, eyes downcast. “I just… I don’t like being sad. Talking about it makes me feel like a failure.”

“Well,” Shem said, “being an adult means talking about hard things. If you’re this talented, you can’t bury it. You need to be seen.”

She glanced at him. “Like how? What would you advise me to do?”

“First,” he said, “start sharing your work, post it regularly. Stop hiding. Let the music speak.”

“And second?”

“Get feedback from professionals, not just friends. Look for collaborations with singers and put out your work frequently. People respect what they hear consistently.”

She smiled softly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Just then, he parked. “Here we are. How long are you going to need? So I know whether to wait or come back.”

“What? You’re going in with me,” she said, blinking.

“That wasn’t the deal. I don’t go shopping.”

She pouted. “So you’re leaving me? With all the dangers outside?”

“No one is trying to harm you. You’re not a target.”

“Wow. So I’m just unimportant?”

Shem sighed, trying to hide a smile, but failing. “Do you want to be a target?”

“I want you to come in with me. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“I’ve eaten.”

“Your body burns calories fast. That food has been digested. Let’s eat first. Then you can leave.”

He gave her a look. “Girl…”

She stepped out of the car dramatically and began limping toward the mall, clutching her ankle again like she had in the gym.

He turned off the engine, checked his phone, nothing urgent from surveillance, and stepped out. He caught up to her quickly and placed a hand on the small of her back.

She turned with glee. “Oh my God. Thank you. I knew you wouldn’t abandon me.”

Shem smirked. “Can you walk properly now? I know you’re fine.”

She grinned. “No. I need you. I really need you.”

Shem shook his head, knowing he had to let her win, and somehow he felt like he was winning too.

“Let’s go get your breakfast.”