~ SEVENTY-ONE ~

~ SEVENTY-ONE ~
Obinna sat on the edge of his bed, head bent, his phone still clutched tightly in his hand, the screen glowing ominously.
"She's pretty."
That was all the text said. No context. No emojis. Just two words. But somehow, those two words had rattled something deep inside him.

And the worst part? It wasn't Kaima who had sent it.
It was Hadiza.

He knew who she was — far more than he would have liked to admit. Hadiza. A name he had once said with ease, a face that had once been familiar. She wasn’t just some random girl from campus; she was a piece of his past he thought he'd left behind. But seeing her name flash across his screen now, it hit him with sharp clarity — Hadiza wasn't just a memory. She was a mistake. A toxic chapter he had closed too late. And now, somehow, she was dragging Kaima into the wreckage he had fought to move away from.

Why was she texting him now, of all people? And about Kaima — the one person he couldn’t afford to have tangled up in old messes?

His heart hammered a violent rhythm against his chest as a cold dread slithered into his veins. His thumb hovered over Kaima’s name, mind spinning.

Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe it was harmless.
Still, his instincts screamed otherwise.

Without hesitating, he pressed the call button, bringing the phone to his ear.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.

"Pick up... pick up..." he muttered under his breath.

No answer.

He tried again, pacing his room now, the sense of unease clawing higher up his spine. Again, the call rang unanswered.

"Kaima, please..." he whispered, feeling an odd mixture of fear and frustration churn in his gut.

Still no answer.

Obinna ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots. He couldn't just sit here. He needed to know she was okay. Needed to see her with his own eyes, hear her voice, breathe in her energy, even if she was still keeping her distance from him.

He scrolled quickly to Aaron’s number and pressed call.
Aaron picked on the second ring.

"Obi, sup?" his friend’s voice came through, casual and unaware of the storm raging inside him.

"You know where Kaima is?" Obinna asked immediately, voice tight with urgency.

There was a slight pause. "Uhm, yeah... I think the girls went to that Paris-themed café near school. You know, to chill after the field match and all. Why? Something wrong?"

Obinna’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to explain. Didn’t want to waste any more time.

"I just need to get to her," he said shortly. "Thanks, bro."

Without waiting for a response, he hung up, grabbing his keys from the table.
He didn't even bother to change out of his loose grey sweatpants and black hoodie.
Didn't even check if he had his wallet.

All he could think about was her.
Kaima.

His Kaima.

Shoving his feet into sneakers, Obinna dashed out of his apartment, the door swinging closed behind him with a loud thud.
The cool evening air hit his face the moment he stepped outside, but it did nothing to temper the heat burning inside him.

His car roared to life beneath his desperate hands, tires screeching slightly as he reversed sharply out of his parking spot. The roads were relatively clear, but his mind wasn’t focused on traffic or rules.
Every second he wasn’t with her felt like another second something could go wrong.

The image of that text haunted him.
"She's pretty."
As if Kaima was some object to be admired, to be claimed.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening.
She wasn’t just pretty.
She was vibrant.
She was fierce.
She was a storm wrapped in gentle laughter and sharp comebacks.
She was Kaima — his light in all the mess he never even knew he was drowning in before he met her.

And he'd be damned if he let anyone — anyone — make her feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

The café came into view minutes later, glowing with soft yellow lights, its little Eiffel Tower sign twinkling in the evening dark.

Obinna barely parked properly before he was out of the car, slamming the door and striding toward the entrance, heart thudding painfully against his ribs.
Through the large glass windows, he could see them — Kaima, Chelsea, Mandy, and Zahra — huddled around a corner booth, laughing over milkshakes and pastries.

For a second, just a second, he froze.
She looked... happy.
Carefree.

The sight made something ache deep inside him.
He had missed this version of her. The one who smiled with her whole face, the one whose laughter came from her belly and lifted the mood of an entire room.
He swallowed hard.
But he also knew she was hiding behind that laughter.
He could feel it.

Squaring his shoulders, Obinna pulled open the door.

The small bell above it chimed, making Kaima glance up instinctively.
Their eyes met.

Shock flickered across her face first.
Then confusion.
Then... something softer, something she quickly masked.

Chelsea noticed the tension almost immediately, elbowing Zahra under the table. Mandy raised an eyebrow, sipping her iced coffee in slow intrigue.

Kaima put down her fork, her movements careful, guarded.
"Obinna?" she asked, voice cautious. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he crossed the room, closing the distance between them like a man starved.
When he stopped at their table, he kept his eyes only on her, as if the others weren't even there.

"Can we talk?" he asked, voice low but steady.

The girls exchanged glances. Chelsea, ever the intuitive one, gave a subtle nod towards the door, silently telling Kaima to go.

Kaima hesitated, chewing her bottom lip for a moment. Then, slowly, she slid out of the booth, grabbing her bag.

Obinna stepped aside for her to pass, his hand brushing the small of her back protectively without even thinking about it.

They stepped outside, the cool night enveloping them in quiet.

Kaima turned to face him, crossing her arms. "Obinna, what’s wrong? Why—"

"Hadiza texted me," he blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. "I don’t know how she got to know about you. I don’t know why she said what she said. But the first thing I thought about... was you."

Kaima’s brows furrowed. "Hadiza?" she repeated, confusion marring her features.

"Yeah." He raked a hand through his hair again, stepping closer. "I don't know what her game is. I don't care. All I care about is you. You’re the one I—" He stopped himself, breathing heavily. "Kaima, talk to me. Please. Whatever’s been going on with you... don’t shut me out. Don't run."

She swallowed visibly, her arms tightening around herself as if trying to hold herself together.

"You don't get it, Obi," she said finally, her voice cracking just slightly. "I'm scared."

"Of me?" he asked brokenly.

"No," she whispered. "Of what you make me feel."

The words hit him like a gut punch.
And yet, somehow, it made everything make sense.

Gently, he reached out, his fingers brushing the side of her face, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.
She didn’t pull away.
Instead, she leaned into his touch, her eyes glistening under the streetlights.

"I’m scared too," he admitted, voice raw. "But I'd rather be scared with you... than be safe without you."

Kaima let out a shaky breath, a tear slipping free despite herself.
He caught it with his thumb, brushing it away tenderly.

For a long, long moment, they just stood there — two hearts trying to bridge the distance fear had created.

And then slowly, like the most natural thing in the world, Kaima stepped into his arms.
And Obinna held her like he never wanted to let go again.