Chapter 10: The Things We Keep Safe
1234 Words
Bami’s POV
Morning arrived, but sleep never really had.
Bami had spent most of the night drifting in and out of anxious thoughts, each one ending in the same place.
The notebook.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it lying on the café chair.
Waiting.
Or worse…
Gone.
She reached for her phone before she even sat up.
7:03 a.m.
Too early to call the café.
She sighed and dropped back onto the pillow.
The cream notebook wasn’t expensive.
She could buy another one before lunch.
But that wasn’t the point.
Some things couldn’t simply be replaced because they looked the same.
That notebook held the first words she’d written after months of believing she had nothing left to say.
It held strangers’ stories.
Mrs. Williams’ assignment.
Thoughts she’d never spoken aloud.
Tiny pieces of herself she hadn’t realized she’d been collecting.
Losing it felt strangely similar to losing a memory.
Not because she’d forget it.
Because she’d never be able to hold it again.
“Bami?”
Ranti stood in the kitchen, buttering two slices of bread.
“You’ve been staring at your tea for five minutes.”
Bami blinked.
“I left my notebook at the café.”
“The cream one?”
She nodded.
“Oh…”
Ranti immediately understood.
It wasn’t just a notebook.
She knew that.
“You called them?”
“They don’t open until nine.”
“You’ll go after work?”
“I’m leaving early.”
Ranti walked over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You’ll find it.”
Bami wanted to believe her.
She really did.
But another thought had already settled inside her mind.
What if someone had read it?
The question tightened something inside her chest.
Not because she’d written anything shameful.
Because those pages had never been written for anyone else’s eyes.
The morning at work passed in fragments.
Emails blurred together.
Meetings came and went without leaving much behind.
Twice, Mrs. Williams had to repeat a question before Bami realized it had been directed at her.
Finally…
“Bami.”
She looked up.
Mrs. Williams had paused halfway through discussing a marketing schedule.
“Is everything alright?”
A dozen answers crowded her mind.
Instead, she smiled.
“I forgot something yesterday.”
Mrs. Williams studied her for a second longer.
“Important?”
Bami nodded.
“Very.”
The older woman smiled kindly.
“Go home early.”
“What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking about…”
She closed the file in front of her.
“…you’re not really here anyway.”
A few people around the conference table chuckled softly.
Bami laughed too.
Embarrassed.
Caught.
Mrs. Williams wasn’t wrong.
By four o’clock, she was already walking toward the café.
The journey felt longer than usual.
Every red traffic light seemed personal.
Every slow-moving bus an inconvenience.
She almost laughed at herself.
When had she become this impatient?
The answer came immediately.
Yesterday.
Yesterday, she’d walked away carrying everything she needed.
Or so she’d thought.
The familiar bell above the café door chimed as she stepped inside.
The scent of freshly ground coffee greeted her.
Normally, it would have calmed her.
Today…
She barely noticed it.
Kunle looked up from arranging cups behind the counter.
The smile on his face faded the moment he saw her expression.
“Bami?”
She walked toward him.
“I think…”
Her voice caught unexpectedly.
“I think I left my notebook here yesterday.”
“The cream one?”
Hope flickered inside her.
“Yes.”
Before Kunle could answer, another voice drifted across the café.
“I think…”
She turned.
Time seemed to slow.
Tobi stood near the window.
The afternoon sunlight spilled across the wooden floor beside him.
In his hands…
Was the cream notebook.
He smiled.
“…you’re looking for this.”
For a moment, she simply stared.
Relief arrived so suddenly that it almost made her dizzy.
She crossed the room slowly, afraid that moving too quickly might somehow wake her from the moment.
When she reached him, he held it out with both hands.
Exactly as she’d left it.
No folded pages.
No bent corners.
No coffee stains.
She accepted it carefully.
Almost reverently.
Her fingers curled around the familiar cover.
Warm.
Real.
Safe.
Only then did she breathe.
“Thank you.”
The words came out as little more than a whisper.
He smiled.
“I thought you might come today.”
She looked down at the notebook.
Then, almost hesitantly…
She asked the question she’d been carrying all day.
“Did you…”
The rest refused to leave her mouth.
She didn’t have to finish.
He understood.
His answer came immediately.
“I didn’t read it.”
No hesitation.
No defensiveness.
Just quiet certainty.
She searched his face.
Some people looked away when they lied.
Some smiled too much.
Some became offended by being questioned at all.
Tobi simply stood there.
Patient.
Giving her all the time she needed to believe him.
And somehow…
She did.
Completely.
“I know.”
The words surprised both of them.
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“You know?”
She nodded.
“I do.”
She wasn’t entirely sure how.
Maybe because trust had been collecting itself quietly over the past few weeks.
In the way he always asked before joining her table.
The way he never pushed when she changed the subject.
The way he noticed her headaches without making them the centre of every conversation.
The way he’d waited until she’d crossed the road before leaving.
Trust, she realized, rarely arrived with an announcement.
It accumulated.
One ordinary kindness at a time.
“You must’ve been worried.”
She laughed softly.
“I emptied my bag three times.”
“I imagined you would.”
She looked at him, amused.
“You imagined that?”
“I’ve seen how carefully you carry it.”
He smiled.
“It seemed important.”
She traced the edge of the notebook with her thumb.
“It is.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
Then she admitted something she hadn’t expected to say aloud.
“I’ve never let anyone read it.”
“I assumed.”
“You did?”
“I think…”
He looked toward the window where rain clouds were beginning to gather again.
“…everyone deserves one place where they don’t have to explain themselves.”
The words settled gently inside her.
No one had ever described it so perfectly.
She looked down at the notebook.
Yes.
That was exactly what it had become.
Kunle appeared with two cappuccinos balanced carefully on a tray.
Neither of them had ordered.
Neither of them questioned it.
He placed the cups on the table with a grin.
“I’ve decided some things don’t require permission anymore.”
Bami laughed.
“You’re becoming very bold.”
“I work on Thursdays.”
He shrugged dramatically.
“I’ve seen enough.”
Tobi chuckled.
“I’m not sure that’s reassuring.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
Still smiling, Kunle wandered away to rescue another customer from an espresso machine that had begun making alarming noises.
For the first time that day…
Bami laughed without effort.
The knot she’d carried since yesterday had finally begun to loosen.
She wrapped both hands around the warm cup.
The notebook rested safely beside it.
Right where it belonged.
- Writer
