Chapter 13 - The Truth
1397 Words
3AM. The thunder woke me.
Not the rain. Not the cold. It was the sound of my own name.
“Ama.”
Kairo’s voice. Right beside me. Rough. Half-asleep.
I opened my eyes slowly. The room was dark except for the last candle, burning low. His arm was across my pillow. Not touching me. But his fingers were curled into the blanket, inches from my hand.
Day 24 had ended with space between us. Day 25 started with none.
I didn’t move. If I moved, he might pull away. If I spoke, the moment might break.
“Kairo,” I whispered back.
He exhaled. Like he’d been holding his breath. “You’re awake.”
“Your arm is on my pillow.”
“I know.” He didn’t move it. “Is it… is it okay?”
That question. From the ruthless billionaire who fired me on Day 1.
My chest hurt.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s okay.”
Silence. Only rain.
Then he shifted. Just a little. His arm brushed my hair. The lightest touch. Like he was afraid I’d shatter.
“I can’t sleep,” he admitted. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Day 1. Your face. The box with your things.”
I turned onto my back. We were both staring at the ceiling now. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because of the contract.” His voice dropped. “Because in 66 days, you walk away. And I… I don’t think I can let you.”
My breath caught.
“Kairo—”
“Don’t answer,” he cut in fast. “Don’t say anything. I just needed you to know. The truth.”
The truth.
For 24 days we’d been pretending. Roommates. Fake couple. Business deal.
But this? This wasn’t in the contract.
I rolled to face him. He was close. Too close. I could see his eyes in the candlelight. No walls. No mask. Just fear.
“Why now?” I asked. “Why tell me at 3AM?”
“Because at 3AM there’s no CEO. No board. No Kairo Mensah the billionaire.” He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His fingers lingered. “At 3AM there’s just… me. And I’m tired of lying to you.”
My heart was hammering.
“Kairo, this is dangerous,” I whispered. “For both of us.”
“I know.” He smiled, but it was sad. “But you’re already under my skin, Ama. The contract didn’t do that. You did.”
The candle flickered out.
Darkness.
But I could still feel him. His warmth. His breath.
“Kiss me,” I said before I could stop myself.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t part of the deal.
His breath hitched. “Ama…”
“Please.”
And then he did.
Soft at first. Like he was asking permission with his lips. When I didn’t pull away, it deepened. His hand came to my jaw. My hand found his chest.
It wasn’t the kiss of a boss and an employee.
It was the kiss of two people who were tired of pretending.
When we broke apart, neither of us spoke.
Because there were no words for Day 25.
Only the truth.
Outside, the rain stopped.
Inside, something started.The silence after the kiss was heavier than the rain had been.
I should have pulled away. I should have remembered the contract. Day 25 of 90. 65 days left. This was supposed to be business.
But Kairo’s thumb was still on my jaw. Like he was scared I’d disappear if he let go.
“Ama,” he said again. My name sounded different in the dark. Not an order. Not a contract. Just… mine.
“What now?” I whispered. Because that was the only question I had.
“Now,” he said, “we don’t pretend.”
He shifted, sitting up against the headboard. He pulled the blanket up over both of us without asking. An invitation.
I took it. Slowly. My back against the pillows beside him. Not touching. But close.
The room was cold, but under theblanket, it was warm.
His arm was still near mine. Not touching. But I could feel his heat.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said. His voice was lower now. Tired. Real. “I’ve spent 10 years building walls. You tore them down in 25 days.”
I turned my head to look at him. In the dark, he didn’t look like Kairo Mensah the billionaire. He looked young. Tired. Human.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered back.
“I know.” He exhaled. “That’s why it worked.”
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then he did something I didn’t expect.
He told me about his father.
“My dad died when I was 22,” he said. “Heart attack. No warning. One day I was his son. The next day I was the CEO of everything he built.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“Everyone came after me,” he continued. “Investors. Relatives. Women. They didn’t see me. They saw the money.” He paused. “SoI learned to push people away first. Before they could hurt me.”
I didn’t say anything. I just listened.
Because this wasn’t the CEO talking. This was Kairo.
“That’s why you fired me,” I said quietly. “Day 1.”
“Yeah.” I heard him shift on the bed. “You walked into my office with no fear. No fake smile. You just… were you.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And I hated you for it. Because you made me want to be honest too.”
My throat tightened.
“And now?” I asked.
“Now I’m done pretending.” His voice was rough. “I’m done counting days, Ama.”
65 days.
That was all we had left on the contract.
I turned to face him in the dark. “What if morning comes and this… goes away?”
“It won’t,” he said fast. Too fast. Like he’d been scared of the same thing.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been scared for 24 days,” he admitted.Scared you’d leave. Scared you’d only see the CEO who fired you.” He paused. “But you stayed.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight.”
“Good.” His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “Because I don’t think I could handle you walking out again.”
Silence settled between us. But it wasn’t awkward. It was safe.
“I never thought Day 25 would feel like this,” I said.
“Me neither.” He shifted, turning more toward me. “I thought the contract would stay business. Cold. Separate.”
“But it didn’t,” I finished for him.
“No.” He was quiet for a second. “You changed it. You changed me.”
My heart did something stupid. It believed him.
“Kairo…”
“Shh.” He let go of my hand just to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered. “Don’t think about 65 days. Don’t think about tomorrow. Just… be here. With me. Now.”
So I did.
We didn’t kiss again. We didn’t need to.
He just stayed. And I stayed.
At 4:45AM, sleep finally pulled me under. The last thing I felt was the warmth of him beside me. The last thing I heard was his breathing, steady and calm.
---
Morning came without warning.
Light through the curtains. Lagos loud again.
I opened my eyes and he was still there. Awake. Watching me.
“Morning,” I whispered.
“Morning, Ama.” He smiled. Small. Real. No mask. “How’d you sleep?”
“Better than I have in 24 days,” I told the truth.
He nodded. Like he understood.
We didn’t talk about the contract. We didn’t talk about Day 26.
We just lay there for a few minutes longer, pretending the world outside didn’t exist.
Day 25 ended with the truth.
And for the first time since Day 1… I wanted to see what Day 26 would be.
[End Of Chapter 13]
- Writer
