Thorns and Roses: Excerpt
“I want to take you out this Saturday,” Chuma broke the silence again. Ifeoma held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
“I have a boat in Lagos Marina. I love to sail on Saturday sometimes.” Still speechless, Ifeoma dared not say anything, dared not move.
“The weather appears promising, no rain. We can have—”
“I have to work on Saturday … I work on Saturdays, remember?” Her voice suddenly returned, cutting him off. She could not allow him to continue, to paint a picture in her mind. It was hard enough not to reach out across the table and touch him. Keeping her desire for him in check was torture. She did not need him painting this perfect fairy-tale picture in her head. Especially when it was obvious that he wasn’t attracted to her. She was just a hobby to him. A problem to fix. Something interesting to occupy his bored rich mind. No, she won’t encourage this.
Chuma’s dark eyes flashed with anger. He took in a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. He didn’t succeed.
“I know you work Saturdays, damn it!” His voice came out harshly. “I know you worked last Saturday, and the Saturday before that and Sundays too!”
Taking a gulp of water as if he needed that to finally calm down, he swallowed slowly. “I just want you to have one Saturday off! Just one! And relax! Stop fighting the world!”
Ifeoma’s pulse jerked at the intensity she saw in his eyes. This was all too much. She felt like she was drowning. To spend a whole Saturday relaxing on a boat with him? How could she do that and not fall at his feet? Or beg him never to leave her? No, she couldn’t. He made her weak, she had to fight him, preserve herself. I am not my mother; I am a strong woman.
“I have a boat in Lagos Marina. I love to sail on Saturday sometimes.” Still speechless, Ifeoma dared not say anything, dared not move.
“The weather appears promising, no rain. We can have—”
“I have to work on Saturday … I work on Saturdays, remember?” Her voice suddenly returned, cutting him off. She could not allow him to continue, to paint a picture in her mind. It was hard enough not to reach out across the table and touch him. Keeping her desire for him in check was torture. She did not need him painting this perfect fairy-tale picture in her head. Especially when it was obvious that he wasn’t attracted to her. She was just a hobby to him. A problem to fix. Something interesting to occupy his bored rich mind. No, she won’t encourage this.
Chuma’s dark eyes flashed with anger. He took in a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. He didn’t succeed.
“I know you work Saturdays, damn it!” His voice came out harshly. “I know you worked last Saturday, and the Saturday before that and Sundays too!”
Taking a gulp of water as if he needed that to finally calm down, he swallowed slowly. “I just want you to have one Saturday off! Just one! And relax! Stop fighting the world!”
Ifeoma’s pulse jerked at the intensity she saw in his eyes. This was all too much. She felt like she was drowning. To spend a whole Saturday relaxing on a boat with him? How could she do that and not fall at his feet? Or beg him never to leave her? No, she couldn’t. He made her weak, she had to fight him, preserve herself. I am not my mother; I am a strong woman.
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