Chapter 8
1378 Words
Star-struck Lovers
David got back to the family house in Kurudu just after 1 PM, his foot dragging more than usual and his shirt stuck to his back from the heat. Daniel was at the kitchen table, laptop open, two charts running side by side, a pair of earphones hanging around his neck.
He didn’t look up until David dropped his bag with a thud.
“You’re early,” Daniel said. “Course finished already?”
David tossed his ID card on the table and sat down, stretching his leg out with a hiss. “Signed in. Left after ten minutes. Same as yesterday.”
Daniel closed the laptop halfway and studied him. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
David stared at the wall for a second before speaking. “I met an angel today.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “An angel?”
“Chandeline. She said her name is Chandeline. She looks like she came straight from my dreams; I feel I’ve met her before. We were probably lovers in our past lives."
He told it fast, like if he slowed down he’d talk himself out of it. How he’d seen her walking with Amaka, how he’d told the okada rider to turn, how he’d walked toward her and asked for her number. How they had stared into each other's eyes till Amaka rudely interrupted the beautiful moment.
“I didn’t recognize her,” David said. “And she didn’t recognize me. But it has to be, Daniel. We are star-struck lovers. It’s written in the stars.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “And?”
“And nothing. She sha gave me her number. But after she did, her friend dragged her away before we could spend any more time together.”
Daniel was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “You’re in trouble.”
David frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t talk about people like that. Not you. You collect numbers, you make jokes, you move on. You just spent ten minutes describing how her voice sounded when she gave you her digits. That’s not you collecting. That’s you stuck.”
David didn’t answer. He stood up and went to the fridge for water, avoiding Daniel’s eyes.
That was when he remembered Matilda.
Matilda was his friend on f*******:. They’d been talking since he was still in Kano, back when the leave was fresh and Abuja felt far away. She’d messaged him after he commented on a mutual friend’s post about EFCC arrests. Smart, quick with replies, no games. She lived in Abuja, worked at a logistics firm in Garki, and had been hinting for two weeks that she’d like to meet.
“I’m expecting someone tomorrow,” David said suddenly.
Daniel blinked. “Who?”
“Matilda. The girl from Facebook.”
Daniel’s expression didn’t change, but his jaw tightened. “The one in Abuja?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel stood up, walked to the sink, and ran water over a cup he wasn’t going to drink from. “You know you’re falling for Chandeline, right?”
David drank half the bottle in one go. “I don’t know any Chandeline. I met a girl on the road. That’s it.”
“Bullshit.” Daniel put the cup down harder than necessary. “You’ve been limping around this house for four days talking about charts and barely listening. The only time you lit up was when you said her name. And now you’re bringing another girl here? You’re playing yourself, David.”
David set the bottle down. “Matilda’s been consistent, Daniel. She talks to me every day. She’s coming to cook, we’ll hang out, see if there’s something there. It’s not that deep.”
“It never is,” Daniel said. “Until it is.”
The argument died there. Daniel went back to his charts. David went to the room to lie down, his foot throbbing and his head worse.
Matilda arrived at 6 PM the next day.
She was shorter than her photos suggested, with a quiet confidence and a bag full of groceries. She greeted David with a hug that lasted a second too long, smiled at Daniel with polite reserve, and went straight to the kitchen.
“I told you I cook,” she said over her shoulder. “You’ll eat well tonight.”
She made egusi and pounded yam, the real kind, not the instant stuff. The smell filled the flat by 8 PM. She set the table, served David first, then Daniel, and sat down to eat with them like she’d been there a dozen times before.
Daniel was cordial but quiet. He ate fast, made small talk about traffic, and excused himself to the room he was using as an office by 9:30.
David and Matilda stayed at the table longer.
She asked about his work. He gave her the safe version—desk job, lots of reports, nothing exciting. She talked about her job, about a client who tried to short-change her on delivery fees, about her younger sister in school. She laughed easily, and when she looked at him, it was direct. No pretense.
After dinner, she helped clear the table.
“You can sit,” David said. “I’ll handle it.”
“I know,” she replied, drying her hands on a towel. “But I want to.”
They ended up in his room an hour later.
The door closed softly. The light stayed off.
Matilda wasn’t shy. She’d made that clear in their chats, and she made it clearer now. She kissed him like she’d been waiting for it, pulled him down onto the bed, and didn’t stop. David didn’t either. It had been months. She was willing, present, and she knew what she wanted.
The s*x was fast and loud.
Matilda didn’t muffle herself. She moaned without apology, hands gripping his shoulders, whispering his name into the dark. The thin walls of the terrace building didn’t help. Daniel’s room was directly opposite, and there was no pretending he couldn’t hear.
When it was over, Matilda lay against David’s chest, breathing hard, tracing patterns on his skin with her finger.
“That was nice,” she said.
David didn’t answer. He was staring at the ceiling, thinking about Chandeline’s eyes on the road that morning.
Matilda stayed the night. She left at 9 AM the next day, kissing David at the door, promising to come back next weekend.
Daniel waited until her footsteps were gone from the staircase before stepping out of his room.
He was grinning.
“You’re dead,” he said, walking into the living room with a cup of tea.
David sat up on the couch, rubbing his face. “What?”
“I heard everything, man,” Daniel said, sitting down across from him. “Every single thing. Matilda doesn’t do quiet, huh?”
David groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Please don’t.”
“I’m not judging,” Daniel said, holding his hands up. “I’m just saying, if Chandeline ever finds out you brought a girl here while you were pining after her, she’ll kill you.”
David looked up. “How now? Chandeline and I might have been lovers in our past lives, but in this lifetime, we haven’t even started dating yet. So take a chill pill Daniel. Besides, she will never find out.”
“She will,” Daniel said simply. “People like that always find out. And when she does, you’ll have to decide what you actually want.”
David stood up, limping to the kitchen to avoid the conversation. “I want breakfast.”
Daniel followed him. “You want to run. Big difference.”
Matilda texted at noon: Hope you’re not too sore 😏. Had fun. Let’s do it again.
David read it and didn’t reply immediately.
In his room, his phone buzzed again. A missed call. Unknown number.
He didn’t answer it. He had a feeling he knew who it was, and he wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.
Down the hall, Daniel was back on his laptop, shaking his head and muttering about “men who sabotage themselves.”
- Writer
