~ SEVENTY-TWO ~

~ SEVENTY-TWO ~
"Take a walk with me," Obinna said, his voice lower than usual, almost pleading.

Without waiting for a reply, he gently reached for her hand. His touch was warm, steady, and Kaima, against every warning in her mind, let him pull her along. They moved away from the bustling sounds of the cafe, away from the chatter and laughter, into the quieter evening streets where the lamplight spilled golden across the sidewalks.

For a few minutes, they just walked, the silence stretching between them, filled with questions neither of them knew how to voice.

Finally, Kaima spoke. "Obi, what's going on? You look... you look like something's wrong."

He stopped walking.

Turning to face her fully, he inhaled slowly as if steeling himself. But before he could talk, she beat him to it.

"I got a text," he said. "From Hadiza."

The name hit her like a quiet slap. She didn’t know much about Hadiza, except the brief meeting earlier, but the way Chelsea and Zahra had once whispered about her was enough. She stiffened slightly.

"And?" she asked carefully.

Obinna shook his head, frustration flickering across his face. "She said... something about you. About you being pretty." He let out a rough laugh that lacked any real humor. "It’s stupid. It's toxic. It's just her trying to stir things. But Kaima..." he stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough that her heart started to pound wildly. "The thought of you getting caught up in any of that because of me—" His voice broke off.

Kaima glanced at him and said softly, "If it helps, a girl had come up to me earlier, just before we left the field. She was... oddly nice."
Obinna stiffened beside her, the pieces clicking sharply into place. "She'd said her name was Hadiza". She finishes as realization hits her.

She swallowed hard.
"But for what it's worth, I'm not caught up in anything, Obi. It's just a text."

"It's not just a text to me," he said fiercely. "It's not just anything when it comes to you." His hand brushed her knuckles lightly, hesitantly. "I care about you, Kaima. More than I probably should. And maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want anyone coming near you and making you uncomfortable. I don’t want anything hurting you — not even my past."

Kaima felt her heart squeeze painfully inside her chest.
Her breath caught.
There it was — the almost-confession hanging in the air between them, fragile and heavy all at once.

She opened her mouth, words forming at the edge of her tongue, but he stepped back slightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets like he was trying to physically restrain himself from reaching out again.

"I know you’ve been pulling back," he said quietly. "I know you’re scared. But Kaima, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, unless you tell me to."

The vulnerability in his voice almost undid her.

She wanted to say everything. She wanted to tell him about the fear curling inside her, about how deep her feelings had rooted themselves, about how afraid she was of ruining something so beautiful because of her own uncertainty.

But instead, she just nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.
"I know," she whispered.

Obinna gave her a long, searching look, his eyes dark and intense under the streetlight. Then, finally, he smiled — a small, raw thing. He reached up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Come on," he said, voice lighter now. "Let’s not keep them waiting too long. Wouldn't want them to think I've kidnapped you."

She laughed at that, the sound breaking through the tightness in her chest.

They walked back together, the easy silence between them different now — warmer, more understanding. When they reached the cafe again, they found Chuma animatedly telling a story while Zahra and Mandy laughed loudly, Aiden chuckling softly beside Chelsea.

Obinna and Kaima exchanged a quick, secret smile before stepping back into the group, the space between them smaller than before, and somehow, everything felt just a little more right.

\---

The door creaked open and Aaron looked up from where he lounged on the couch, a can of soda forgotten in his hand. The low, concerned furrow between his brows deepened when he saw Obinna step in — looking every bit exhausted, distracted, and tense, his keys dangling from his fingers.

"You good, bro?" Aaron asked, straightening. "You sounded... off when you called earlier."

Obinna shut the door quietly behind him and leaned against it for a second, head falling back with a dull thud. The silence stretched between them before he finally exhaled a heavy breath and pushed off the door.

"Yeah... no," he muttered, tossing the keys onto the small table near the door. "Come," he gestured towards the kitchen, and Aaron followed without another word, sensing whatever it was — it wasn't light.

Obinna grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one to Aaron before cracking his open and taking a long drink. Then, resting against the counter, he finally began.

"It’s Hadiza," he said, the name bitter on his tongue.

Aaron blinked. "Hadiza... as in—?"

"My ex," Obinna nodded tightly. "The same one. She’s been lurking around campus... and today, out of nowhere, she texts me."

Aaron’s face darkened with understanding. "What did she want?"

"Apparently to stir shit," Obinna said, voice low with frustration. "She sent a text about Kaima. Something stupid and petty — trying to get under my skin."

Aaron whistled low. "That's low, man."

"Yeah." Obinna raked a hand through his hair, pacing a little. "I panicked, called Kaima... she didn’t pick up. Tried again and again. I— I couldn't sit still. Had to know she was okay."

Aaron gave a small nod of approval, like he understood more than he let on.

"So I found her," Obinna said, his tone softening. "The girls were at that cafe near school. I pulled her aside, we walked... talked. She said Hadiza approached her too earlier, after the match."

Aaron's jaw ticked. "What the hell is Hadiza playing at?"

Obinna shook his head, his hands flexing at his sides. "I don't know. But what I do know is... Kaima's all that matters. I can't let anything or anyone mess that up."

Aaron smiled a little, a knowing look in his eyes. "Sounds like you’re finally admitting it to yourself."

Obinna gave a small, tired laugh. "I nearly told her tonight... nearly said it out loud."

"But you didn’t," Aaron said, not unkindly.

"No," Obinna admitted. "It didn’t feel right — not tonight. She’s already been dealing with enough."

Aaron nodded again, sipping from his bottle. "You'll know when it's time."

Obinna let out a long breath, the weight of the night easing slightly now that he had gotten it off his chest.

"I dropped them all off," he added. "Made sure they got home safely."

"Good," Aaron said. "Real good."

For a while, they stood there in comfortable silence, the low hum of the fridge filling the kitchen. Then, with an exchanged nod, both friends quietly agreed it was time to turn in for the night.

Obinna grabbed a spare pillow from the linen closet for Aaron, tossing it onto the couch with a grunt. "Night, man."

"Night, Obi," Aaron called after him as Obinna disappeared into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

The apartment settled into stillness, but the night carried a quiet promise: whatever storms came, they’d weather it — together.

\---

Obinna dropped onto his bed without even bothering to undress fully, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he lay flat on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The soft whirr of the ceiling fan above hummed in the background, a quiet contrast to the rush of thoughts in his mind.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhausted but restless.

Kaima.

Her name pulsed steadily in his chest, refusing to leave him alone even in the silence of his own space. He closed his eyes and saw her — that slight frown she wore when she was deep in thought, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear absentmindedly, the quiet laugh that sometimes caught him off guard with how much he needed to hear it.

Tonight, as they walked together in the cool evening air, he had seen something he hadn’t seen in a while — a small crack in the wall she had started to build between them. She had looked up at him with those deep, searching eyes and trusted him again, even if just a little. And for a split second, he almost said the words weighing on his heart.

"I love you."

He let out a shaky breath, turning onto his side to face the wall, as if hiding from the enormity of what he felt.

He hadn't said it. Because he needed her to feel safe first. Needed her to be ready — not because he rushed her or pushed her, but because she chose him with her whole heart. Just like he had already chosen her.

Obinna smiled faintly, a soft, tired curve of his lips.

"We'll get there," he thought, letting the hope steady him.

Slowly, as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his eyes drifted shut, Kaima’s laughter playing somewhere in the back of his mind like a song he never wanted to forget.

Tonight, he slept lighter than usual, wrapped in the quiet certainty that even though the road ahead would be rocky, they were slowly — carefully — making their way toward each other.

And he would wait.

He would always wait for her.