Second Chance with Clement

Drafting the Game

“Pascal, what kind of game? Are you competing in something?”

Pascal chuckled. “If it were football or scrabble, I’d tell you. But no, this is something different.”

Flora sounded puzzled. “Then please tell me, don’t be angry.”

Pascal sighed. “It’s not something to discuss over the phone, my love. Come tomorrow morning, and we’ll talk about it.”

Flora hesitated. “No problem,” she said softly, still confused and worried about what kind of game her lover was planning.

Pascal ended the call and leaned back, his mind already racing with dangerous plans.

Pascal Wright expecting Flora to come the following morning, he began drafting the game as he reasoned how it would all work before her arrival. He used Flora as the key player and began playing a Scrabble game on his laptop.

He considered himself the coach and Flora the player. He made Flora the green player and Clement the yellow player. "I want to see how this game will work before Flora arrives," he said to himself. "If I win this match against my opponent, then good luck is on my side. But if I lose, I’ll need to change my tactics."

He started playing with different strategies, using Flora as the player who would bring him victory.

"Wawu, wawu! I’m winning already!" Pascal exclaimed, taking a glass of drink. "Let’s see how this match ends so I can celebrate my victory."

Just as he was about to finish the game, someone knocked on the door.

"Who is that this morning?" Pascal said angrily. "I’m in the middle of a game and about to win!" He opened the door. "Oh, it’s you, my babe."

Flora frowned. "Why did you shout in the first place?"

"Well, I’m sorry, my babe," Pascal replied, softening his tone. "I was playing a game and about to claim victory when you knocked. I didn’t know it was you."

"Okay," Flora said. "But what kind of game are you playing?"

Pascal smiled and waved her inside. "Come in and see for yourself."

Flora looked at the screen. "This is Scrabble."

"Yes," Pascal nodded. "You know I love Scrabble."

"I do," Flora replied. "But yesterday you were talking about another game on the phone. I’ve been thinking about it since then because I only know Scrabble with you. You said it’s not Scrabble or any other common game."

Pascal sighed. "You’re right. It’s not this Scrabble game. I’m only using it to draft how we’re going to win. As you can see on my laptop, I’m already winning, and that means good luck is on our side."

Flora looked confused. "However, you said I’m the main player and you’re my coach. What exactly do you mean, Pascal? Speak clearly. Don’t talk to me in riddles."

Pascal leaned forward. "Do you know Clement?"

"Yes," Flora replied.

"I mean Clement Strong," Pascal added.

"I know him," she said. "You told me about him—his parents own a big refinery, and he’s a doctor who studied gynecology."

"You’re right, babe," Pascal said. "But there’s something I never told you. It’s from the money Clement used to send me that I built this house and bought my own car. That’s how I got everything I have."

Flora gasped in disbelief. "What! Pascal?"

"Babe, why are you shouting?" Pascal said calmly. "If I hadn’t done all that, how would I take good care of you? You know I love you and want the best for us. I don’t want us to suffer, and you hate poverty too."

Flora shook her head slowly, staring at him. "So, what do you want me to do now?"

Pascal smiled slyly. "Now you’re talking, babe. Clement must never know about the money or how I used it. And we still need more from him if we want to become billionaires ourselves. I can’t go begging him—it would make him suspicious. Even now, he might wonder how I managed to survive before his return."

Flora crossed her arms. "You still haven’t told me my responsibility in all this."

"As I said earlier," Pascal replied, "this is a game. It requires smartness so we won’t lose. You are the main player, and I’m your coach. Clement is our opponent. We must outsmart him so that what he has will become ours."

Flora hesitated. "This is a dangerous game, Pascal. I hope I won’t be caught at the end."

"That’s why you have to be smart and follow my instructions," he said. "I’ve already drafted how we’ll win. I’ve tested the tactics, and one of them works perfectly."

"Tell me the tactic," Flora said curiously.

"Do you mind taking juice or wine first?" Pascal offered, smiling cunningly.

"I don’t mind," Flora replied softly.

"I insist," Pascal said teasingly.

"Fine," Flora said, "just get me cold water instead."

Pascal brought her a chilled bottle of water. After she drank a little, she asked again, "Now tell me the tactic."

Pascal leaned closer. "You need to marry Clement."

"What?" Flora exclaimed in disbelief, dropping the bottle from her hand. "Marry Clement? You know I love you! Are you trying to sell me out to him?"

Pascal held her hand gently. "You know I love you. I’d never sell you to another man. It’s just a game. The marriage will be fake. We’re after what we can get from him. When the mission is complete, you’ll leave him, and we’ll escape to a far place. Your time with him won’t stop us from secretly communicating—or being together."

Flora sighed deeply, torn between fear and loyalty. "This is a difficult game, but no problem. I’ll try my best. Just tell me what to do at every step. You’re the coach; I’m the player."

"Exactly," Pascal said with a grin. "We’re going to win completely—just as I’m winning this Scrabble match. But remember, this must stay between us. Don’t tell your grandma or any friend about the game we’re playing."

"Okay," Flora agreed reluctantly.

"Now," Pascal said, "do you want a plate of rice and a bottle of juice?"

"No problem," Flora replied.

"Give me fifteen minutes," Pascal said, stepping out to buy food from a nearby restaurant. Flora sat quietly, lost in thought. The plan sounded dangerous but strangely convincing. She wondered how far Pascal would go for money and if his love for her was truly genuine.

A few minutes later, Pascal returned. "My babe, here’s the food."

"Thank you, my love," she said.

"You’re welcome," Pascal smiled. "Hope you’re not going anywhere today. I want us to spend time together. You’ll watch me play this Scrabble again, and you know we’re already winning."

Flora shook her head. "No, Pascal. I need to get money for my grandma’s drugs—they’re expensive."

"How much?" Pascal asked, raising an eyebrow.

"About four hundred and seventy rand," she replied.

"That’s not a problem," Pascal said, as he was about to pull out his wallet.

Flora smiled faintly. "Thank you, my love."

Since you are still with me throughout today, let me give you later.

Flora responded, "No problem, my love."

"That’s why you need to play this game smartly," Pascal added. "Life will be easy for both of us if we win."

Just then, Pascal’s phone rang. It was Clement calling.

"Flora," Pascal said quickly, "Clement is on the line. Please don’t speak while I’m talking to him—or better still, go to my room."

"I promise I won’t say a word," Flora whispered.

Pascal picked up the call.

"Good afternoon, Pascal," Clement greeted. "How’s everything?"

"I’m cool, my guy," Pascal replied.

"How far about that thing?" Clement asked.

Pascal pretended not to understand. "What thing?"

"Your beautiful cousin," Clement reminded him. "The one you told me about."

"Oh, I remember," Pascal lied smoothly. "Don’t tell me you’re already falling in love with someone you haven’t seen."

Clement laughed. "Let’s just say I’m eager to meet her."

"No problem," Pascal said. "She traveled but will return this evening. Tomorrow morning, she and I will come visit you."

"Hope you’ve told her about me?" Clement asked eagerly.

"I’ve done that already," Pascal said confidently.

"Good," Clement replied, ending the call with excitement.

Pascal turned to Flora. "Did you hear our conversation?"

"Yes, I did," she said quietly.

"Flora, you’ve turned into such a beauty that my friend is already in love with you without even meeting you," Pascal said with a smirk. "That makes our game easier since he’s eager to see you."

Flora frowned. "So am I your cousin or your girlfriend?"

"To Clement, you’re my cousin," Pascal explained smoothly. "But to me, you’re my girlfriend—my future wife."

Flora gave a small, uncertain smile. “Hmm… future wife, you say?”

“Yes, babe,” Pascal said confidently. “But for now, you must play your role well. Clement must believe every word you say. The more he trusts you, the faster we win.”