Episode 2 — Unwritten Rules
956 Words
The gallery opening night was electric.
Light bounced off abstract sculptures, voices hummed with excitement, glasses clinked with chilled champagne. I wore a sleek black dress I’d bought on my new budget, and Leo stood beside me in a crisp navy blazer, our shoulders brushing each time someone congratulated us.
Our first kiss was now a quiet, unspoken thing—a secret tucked between business meetings and shared meals. We hadn’t talked about it. Not yet. But every glance lingered, every touch held intention.
The night was a blur of faces, compliments, and three confirmed sales. When the last guest left, Leo turned to me, eyes shining.
“You’re a star.”
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed. Dave.
Saw the gallery on i********:. Looks incredible. You’ve changed.
I stared at the screen.
“What is it?” Leo asked softly, stepping closer.
“Dave.”
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “And?”
“He says I’ve changed.”
Leo’s hand rested on my lower back, warm and steady. “You have.”
---
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. Leo was in my kitchen, moving with the ease of someone who belonged there. He’d stayed over—sleeping on the couch this time, but the air between us felt different. Charged.
“So,” he said over breakfast, “what’s next?”
“The gallery’s running. The budget’s balanced. I’m cooking. I’m on time.” I laughed softly. “List complete, right?”
He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Maybe it’s time for a new list.”
That afternoon, Dave called.
My finger hovered over the red button, but curiosity won. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than I remembered. “I meant what I texted. You look… really happy in those pictures.”
“I am,” I said, more firmly than I’d expected.
Silence. Then, “Listen… I know it’s out of nowhere. But I was thinking. Maybe we could grab coffee. No pressure. Just… talk.”
I looked across the room at Leo, who was sketching ideas for the next gallery exhibit in his notebook, brow furrowed in concentration.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said.
“Right,” Dave said quickly. “Of course. I just… miss you sometimes.”
After I hung up, Leo looked up. “Everything okay?”
“He wanted coffee.”
Leo’s pencil stilled. “Are you going?”
“No.”
He nodded, but something in his eyes dimmed. We didn’t talk about it for the rest of the day.
---
That weekend, my sister Tope visited. She took one look at Leo helping me rearrange the gallery’s back storage and raised an eyebrow.
“So he’s just your best friend, huh?”
“Yes.”
“With benefits?”
“Tope!”
She grinned. “Please. You’ve been in love with him since university. You just needed a failed engagement and an unemployment scare to see it.”
My face grew warm. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is,” she said gently. “You’ve spent your whole life looking for someone who fits a list. Maybe you should just look at who’s already here.”
Later, Leo and I walked along the Lekki shoreline, the wind tugging at our clothes.
“Dave texted again,” I admitted. “He’s… persistent.”
Leo stopped walking. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
“No,” I said immediately. “But…”
“But what?”
I turned to face him. “What if this—us—is just… rebound? Comfort? What if I’m just using you to feel better about myself?”
He looked at me like I’d spoken in another language. “Do you really believe that?”
I didn’t answer.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration seeping into his voice for the first time. “I’ve watched you turn your life around. I’ve watched you become more you than you’ve ever been. And you think I’m just… a distraction?”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean?” he pressed, stepping closer. “Because I’m not Dave. I don’t have a checklist. I never did.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m just… scared.”
His expression softened. “Me too.”
He took my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “We don’t have to label this. We don’t have to rush. But don’t push me away because you’re scared of getting hurt again. That’s not fair to either of us.”
The honesty in his words felt like a key turning in a lock. He was right. I was protecting myself—but from the wrong person.
---
Two weeks later, Leo surprised me with tickets to an art fair in Abuja.
We spent the weekend wandering through pavilions, debating brushstrokes, stealing kisses behind sculptures. On our last night, we sat on the hotel balcony overlooking the city.
“I didn’t plan for this to happen,” I said quietly.
“Plan for what?” he asked, though I knew he understood.
“Falling for my best friend.”
He smiled, a slow, beautiful thing. “I did.”
I looked at him, surprised. “What?”
“I’ve had a plan since second year of university,” he admitted, his voice low. “It just… took you a little longer to catch up.”
I laughed, feeling light, free, unafraid. “So what’s the plan now?”
He leaned in, his lips close to mine. “We write it together.”
- Writer
