"Why do you keep pushing me away?" Before I can stop myself, the question spills out of my mouth. The stillness lingers longer than it should, and the words loom large between us. With his back to the window and his profile crisp and inscrutable in the low light, Yemi stands a few feet away from me. I sense how far apart we are from one another and how coldness has crept into the places where trust and warmth used to exist.
His jaw tightened, his shoulders rigid. He whispers, "You wouldn’t understand, Lola," in a low, quite self-contained voice. "You’re not the one who’s been hurt."
I look at him in an attempt to see the man I once knew. The one who gazed at me with genuineness in his eyes. I go forward and beg, "Then make me understand," my words coming from a place of extreme need. "Pl
