Love In Repeat

The First Conversation

Writing

Chapter Four

The First Conversation

Maya woke up the next morning with the memory of the previous night still fresh in her mind.

She remembered the restaurant, the wrong table, and the man who had looked just as confused as she was. She remembered how uncomfortable the situation had been at first and how easily it had changed into something pleasant.

Most importantly, she remembered Ethan’s smile.

Maya turned on her bed and reached for her phone. There was already a message from Teni.

Teni: Good morning, Mrs. Table 23.

Maya rolled her eyes.

Maya: Don’t start.

Teni: So you enjoyed yourself?

Maya: It was just dinner.

Teni: Dinner with a handsome man.

Maya: Teni.

Teni: Okay, okay. But did he ask for your number?

Maya paused before replying.

Maya: Yes.

Teni called immediately.

Maya answered with a tired sigh. “Why are you calling me this early?”

“Because you finally went on a date and you are trying to hide the details from me.”

“It was not a date. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake that lasted almost two hours?”

Maya sat up. “How did you know it lasted two hours?”

“Because I know you. If you hated the situation, you would have left after ten minutes.”

Maya had no answer.

Teni’s voice softened. “Maya, you don’t have to marry him. You don’t even have to see him again. Just allow yourself to enjoy a conversation without thinking about how it will end.”

Maya looked toward the window.

“That is easier said than done.”

“I know. But you cannot allow one bad relationship to decide the rest of your life.”

Maya remained quiet.

Teni was right, but being right did not make it easier. The last time Maya had trusted someone completely, she had ended up questioning her own judgment. She had promised herself that she would never again become so emotionally dependent on another person.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” Maya said.

“Then don’t look for one. Just make a friend.”

After the call ended, Maya went about her morning. She prepared breakfast, dressed for work, and hurried to her fashion studio. Her assistant, Rita, was already arranging fabrics when she arrived.

“You are smiling,” Rita said.

Maya stopped walking. “No, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

Rita studied her face. “Something happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“That is exactly what people say when something happened.”

Maya dropped her handbag on the table. “Can we talk about work?”

Rita laughed. “Fine. But I’m watching you.”

The day became busy almost immediately. A client called to complain about a dress that was not yet finished. Another customer arrived to change the design she had already approved. Maya moved from one task to another, but every now and then, her mind returned to Ethan.

Around noon, her phone vibrated.

It was a message from him.

Ethan: Good morning. I hope your day is going well.

Maya stared at the message longer than necessary.

There was nothing unusual about it. It was a simple greeting. Still, she found herself smiling before she replied.

Maya: Good morning. My day is already stressful. Hope yours is better.

His response came a few minutes later.

Ethan: Mine is stressful too. Maybe we should complain to each other.

Maya chuckled.

Maya: That sounds like a terrible idea.

Ethan: Or an excellent friendship strategy.

She shook her head and returned to work, but the smile remained on her face.

Later that evening, Ethan sent another message.

Ethan: About the coffee I mentioned yesterday—are you free tomorrow?

Maya leaned back in her chair.

She could ignore the message. She could say she was busy. She could remind him that they had agreed to remain friends.

Instead, she typed:

Maya: One coffee. Nothing complicated.

Ethan: Agreed. Four o’clock?

Maya: Four o’clock.

The next afternoon, Maya arrived at the café a few minutes late. Ethan was already seated beside the window with two menus in front of him.

“You’re late,” he said.

She looked at the clock on the wall. “By five minutes.”

“I noticed.”

“Are you always this observant?”

“Only when I’m waiting for someone.”

Maya gave him a suspicious look. “That sounded like a line.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It sounded like one.”

Ethan smiled. “Then I need to improve my lines.”

They ordered coffee and small plates of food. The café was quiet, with soft music playing in the background. Outside, cars moved slowly through the traffic, and people hurried along the pavement.

“So,” Ethan began, “how was work today?”

“Busy. I have a client who believes every dress can be completed in one hour.”

“Can it?”

“Only if she wants to wear half a dress.”

Ethan laughed.

“What about you?” Maya asked. “How is event planning?”

“Chaotic. I spent the morning trying to convince a client that a wedding does not need three different stages.”

“Maybe she wants three different husbands.”

Ethan almost choked on his coffee.

Maya laughed so hard that people at the next table turned to look at them.

“You see?” Ethan said after recovering. “This is why I invited you for coffee.”

“Because I make terrible jokes?”

“Because you make the terrible jokes sound intelligent.”

Their conversation moved easily from work to family, food, childhood, and Lagos. Maya discovered that Ethan loved old movies and preferred quiet places. Ethan learned that Maya enjoyed designing clothes late at night when everyone else was asleep.

“You always wanted to be a fashion designer?” he asked.

“Not always. When I was younger, I wanted to be many things. A singer, a lawyer, even a chef.”

“Can you cook?”

“I can survive.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is the only answer you are getting.”

Ethan smiled. “Fair enough.”

For a while, they sat quietly. The silence was not uncomfortable. Maya found that strange. With most people, silence made her feel responsible for keeping the conversation alive. With Ethan, she did not feel pressured.

Eventually, he asked, “Can I ask you something personal?”

Maya’s expression changed slightly. “That depends.”

“Why did your last relationship end?”

She looked down at her cup.

“I thought we were happy,” she said slowly. “At least, I thought we were trying to be happy.”

Ethan did not interrupt.

“We were together for two years. At first, he was thoughtful and caring. He made promises, and I believed him. But after some time, things changed. He stopped explaining himself. He became distant. Whenever I asked what was wrong, he said nothing was wrong.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“It was. I kept thinking that if I tried harder, things would return to how they used to be.”

Maya swallowed.

“But they didn’t. I was the only one trying to fix something he had already abandoned.”

Ethan’s expression became serious.

“Did he ever explain why?”

“No.”

“That is painful.”

Maya looked at him. “You understand?”

He nodded.

“My last relationship ended because we stopped communicating. We both had problems, but neither of us wanted to talk about them. I thought giving her space was the right thing to do. She thought my silence meant I didn’t care.”

“What did you think?”

“I thought I was avoiding arguments.”

“And what was she thinking?”

“That I was avoiding her.”

Maya nodded slowly. “Sometimes silence hurts more than the truth.”

“I know that now.”

The words settled between them.

Maya had expected Ethan to be another man who would say the right things and disappear when things became difficult. But he was not trying to convince her that he was perfect. He spoke about his mistakes without making excuses.

That made her listen.

“Do you still believe in love?” she asked.

Ethan considered the question.

“I believe love is real. I just think people sometimes enter relationships before they understand themselves.”

Maya looked away. “Maybe people also confuse love with promises.”

“Promises are easy to make.”

“Keeping them is the difficult part.”

Ethan nodded. “Then maybe the important thing is not what someone promises, but what they consistently do.”

Maya looked at him again.

For a moment, she forgot to protect herself.

When they finished their coffee, Ethan offered to pay, but Maya insisted that they share the bill. He accepted without arguing.

Outside the café, the evening air was warm.

“So,” Ethan said, “are we still friends?”

Maya smiled. “That was the agreement.”

“No pressure?”

“No pressure.”

“Honest communication?”

“Honest communication.”

“Then I think we are doing well.”

Maya looked at him. “Don’t become too confident.”

“I’ll try.”

They exchanged a brief goodbye before going their separate ways.

As Maya walked toward her car, her phone buzzed.

Ethan: I enjoyed today.

She smiled and replied:

Maya: I did too.

She placed the phone in her bag, but before starting the car, she paused.

For the first time in a long while, she was not thinking about the man who had hurt her.

She was thinking about someone new.

And that frightened her more than she wanted to admit.