Chapter Nine

Months Later

“You’re a baby,” Funmi said, watching Kayode crouch at her feet, carefully painting her toenails with comical seriousness.

Kayode looked up with mock injury in his eyes. “Wow. That’s the thanks I get for trying to pamper you?”

Funmi laughed softly. “No, that’s what you get for sulking because I haven’t said three tiny words.”

He sighed and returned to his task. “One day, you’ll admit that you’re the one who’s needy, not me.”

The pandemic had brought an unexpected kind of stillness into her life. With no new contracts rolling in, she found herself able to breathe, really breathe. And in that space, Kayode had gently settled into her world like a rhythm she didn’t know she needed.

This was her first time in years spending a whole week at home without jumping between meetings or crashing deadlines. She hadn’t just fallen in love, she had walked into a relationship with a man who saw her, respected her, and didn’t try to fix or shrink her.

Two Sundays ago, she had almost walked away, again. She had stared at her laptop in her office and told herself this wouldn’t work—too many differences, too many reasons to fail. But Kayode had driven her home that day, held her hand in silence, and just before she stepped out of the car, he had said quietly, “We’re not children, Funmi. We don’t need to play games. We evaluate. We decide. We build. I love you so much, and I am committed to making this relationship work.”

“You love me?” she had asked, partly skeptical, and afraid of the answer.

He had parked the car, turned to her, and placed her hand on his chest. “Feel that? That’s not butterflies. That’s conviction. I haven’t felt this steady about anyone before.”

Her throat had tightened. “Are you sure you truly want this? I don’t want you to leave later, after I have become too attached and you realise that I am not the woman for you.”

“Funmi, I am not going anywhere. Feel free to fall in love with me,” he had said. “Let me help you to love me.”

And she smiled. “I think you already have .

Yet, she still hadn’t said the words.

Hence the nail-painting.

“Does it really matter if I say it?” she asked now, her voice lighter than her heart.

Kayode capped the polish and sat back on his heels. “Yes. It does.”

“But I feel it. The feeling matters more Kayode.”

“I don’t doubt that. But sometimes, the heart needs to hear what it already knows.”

She looked down, softened. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’re so stubborn,” he said with a grin, standing up.

“And you’re so impatient,” she replied, reaching for her laptop.

He gave her one more smile before heading into the kitchen.

Funmi shook her head and chuckled. She hadn’t thought she would enjoy this level of intimacy. But she did. Deeply.

Though their relationship was only a few months old, Kayode had become a quiet fixture in her home. Everyone had adjusted to his presence, no one questioned it anymore. Even her extended family, who occupied her mansion like it was a boarding house, had begun to accept that ‘Madam’s guest’ wasn’t going anywhere. 

They had decided not to do sleepovers though, and to avoid prolonged moments of aloneness without others around. Kayode knew how intense his affections were, and so he refused to put himself in a position that would make him seek physical pleasures that would be a sin against God.

‘God gave me His best son’, Funmi always thought, a man better than she could have asked for.

While she often escaped to his place for peace, he insisted on being a part of her life, not just her quiet moments. Today, they were at her place.

In the kitchen, Kayode found one of Funmi’s younger cousins making toast. The guy was talkative and full of energy, the kind that made you tired just watching him.

“You’re the first guy who’s lasted more than a month” he said with a grin. “Sister Funmi must like you a lot.”

Kayode gave a polite nod.

The cousin continued, undeterred. “She’s not easy, sha. You’ve got your work cut out.”

No issues

Kayode glanced at him. “Thanks. But we will both appreciate it if you mind your business.”

The boy shrugged and wandered off, unfazed. 

The cook, a mother figure for Funmi, who had been prepping vegetables nearby, chuckled softly. “Don’t mind him.”

Kayode smiled. “He’s young.”

“You’re patient,” she said, stirring a pot. “That’s good.”

She turned to him with an unreadable look. “I have worked with her for fifteen years. I love her like my own child, and so know that I mean well when I say, Funmi is… intense. She is a good person, but she’s not like most women.”

“I know,” Kayode replied, cutting short the conversation before it could go further. “But she’s mine. And I’m not walking away just because she’s not regular.”

The cook nodded once, approving, then turned back to her work.

Just then, Funmi entered the kitchen, slid her arms around his waist, and rested her chin on his back.

“I didn’t think you would abandon me just because I refused to say the words,” she murmured.

He turned and kissed her hand. “Are you ready to say them now?”

She grinned, picked up a shiny apple from the fruit bowl. “I was getting close. But now… I think I’ll just eat instead.”

He made a half-hearted attempt to grab it, but she dodged him and ran out laughing, apple in hand.

He watched her go, smiling.

But in the quiet that followed, her cousin’s words returned like a whisper: You’ve got your work cut out.

Was it true?

—————————————————

Two days later, the answer came.

Kayode arrived at her office building for a scheduled food bank meeting with the welfare team. Despite his intense schedule, he had woken early to prepare her favorite, Ofada sauce with assorted meats and soft, white rice. He had wrapped it beautifully, in a fabric-lined basket with a handwritten note.

He texted her that he was in the building for a meeting with her team, and that he brought her breakfast.

Her reply came minutes later.

In meetings all day. Not in the mood for food. Just coffee and I have that here. Thanks though.

It stung.

Especially after everything he had endured the day before.

His mother, Soji, and their sister Kemi had visited him to plant more seeds of doubt. They had gotten their chance to gauge Funmi properly during Soji’s intimate wedding last month.

“I like her, she is brilliant and smart,” his mother had said cautiously. “But smart doesn’t mean suitable.”

“She’s older,” Soji added. “You may not feel it now, but power dynamics show up later.”

“She’s wealthy too,” their mother continued. “What exactly are you offering her?”

“I’m offering love. Stability. Honesty,” Kayode had replied.

Kemi had nodded slowly. “Then just be sure she loves you too. And not just what you offer right now.”

He had defended Funmi the best he could, but their words lingered.

And now, here she was, brushing off his breakfast with a “thanks though.”

Was he just a convenience to be discarded when he was inconvenient?

Lord, teach me patience.

————————————————————————

At noon, the team Kayode was working with broke for lunch. Bimbo, the lady in charge, turned to him.

“I was going to grab a bite. Want to come?”

“I’m not hungry,” he replied. “But I brought food. You can have it, if you like.”

Her eyes lit up. “If it’s your cooking, then yes, please.”

He smiled faintly and headed to his car to get the basket.

On his way back, he saw Funmi.

She smiled when she spotted him and reached to touch his shoulder, pulling into a corner of the office. “If you knew the kind of day I’ve had—”

But he didn’t return the smile.

“I’m keeping someone waiting,” he said, stepping past her. “We can talk later. When you’re done with what matters.”

Funmi blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kayode didn’t respond.

Then her eyes landed on the basket in his hand.

“I believe that’s mine,” she said, softly.

He shook his head. “It was, not anymore.”

Just then, Bimbo appeared in the doorway. From where she stood, she could only see Kayode.

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, collecting the basket. “You make food look like art. Did you cook for the Queen of England?”

Kayode chuckled politely. “Glad you like it.”

“I love it. Wow!”

“Please give me a moment, I will join you in the conference room soon.”

“Okay Chef!” Bimbo said with an expectant smile, “see you soon.”

Then he turned back to Funmi.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but there was no warmth in the apology.

“I don’t share,” Funmi whispered and pulled him into a hug. He held her gently but distantly.

“I hate that you gave another woman what you made for me.”

Her reaction changed Kayode’s mood instantly. 

“I love that you care enough to notice, even if you didn’t care enough to accept my labour of love.” he said, voice quieter.

She looked up at him.

“I love you, Kayode.”

The words landed like a soft wind.

He stared at her, stunned.

She smiled. “Now, go get my basket. I am hungry.”

“I love you more.”

He pulled her closer, finally letting himself feel the relief that had been building.

“I am on break, we could grab a quick lunch.” He was saying, when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and her expression changed.

“What is it?” he asked. “You don’t want food anymore?”

She gave a small, weary smile. “I wish food could fix the world.”

And with that, she walked away.

Kayode stood still.

“Holy Spirit, I love her deeply. Yet, when she shuts me out during our most crucial moments, I feel lost. Teach me to love her as You do, patiently, unconditionally, and with unwavering grace. Help me to be present, even in silence, and to reflect Your love in every action.”