Chapter 8 : Secrets Under the Sun
1480 Words
The afternoon sun was gentle that day, warm enough to comfort, but not harsh enough to drive people indoors. Zora walked slowly across the school courtyard, a book clutched tightly to her chest as if it were her shield against the world. Students moved past her in groups, laughing, talking, blending seamlessly into the rhythm of campus life. She, as always, felt like a lone note in a song that had no place for her melody.
Her eyes flickered to the side, scanning the familiar corners of the courtyard. That was when she saw him.
Kamari.
He leaned casually against a tree near the edge of the field, but there was nothing casual about the way his shoulders slouched or the distant look in his eyes. The usual easy charm he carried.. the effortless smile, the light in his gaze was absent. He looked lost.
Her heart skipped, a nervous flutter taking over her chest.
Why was he here?
And why did he look like he was carrying the weight of the world?
Zora hesitated, almost tempted to walk past him, to protect her fragile calm. But something inside her the part that always wanted to heal others even when she couldn’t heal herself, pushed her feet forward.
“You okay?” she asked softly, tilting her head as she approached.
Kamari looked up, startled as if he hadn’t expected anyone to notice him. For a second, his mask slipped, and she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. Then he forced a weak smile.
“Zora…”
Her name lingered on his lips, tender but heavy. Yet that smile, fake, shaky...didn’t reach his eyes.
She stepped closer, the book pressed tighter to her chest. “Is something wrong?”
He sighed, the sound carrying exhaustion. His gaze darted around as though afraid of being overheard. “Wanna take a walk?”
Zora nodded.
They slipped away from the courtyard, down a narrow side path lined with uneven stones. The path opened up to the vast school field, where the wind moved freely, tugging playfully at Zora’s braids. Kamari kept his hands buried in his pockets, his jaw tense, clenching and unclenching as if wrestling with words.
Finally, he exhaled, almost in defeat.
“It’s family stuff,” he muttered. “Complicated things.”
Zora looked up at him, her eyes gentle. “Wanna talk about it?”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “Where do I even start?”
They walked a little farther, their footsteps crunching softly on the dry grass, before he spoke again.
“My dad. Mr. Donalds. CEO of Domino Core International, tech, oil, global logistics. The whole empire thing.” He paused, bitterness lacing his tone. “He wants to control everything. Even who I marry.”
Zora stopped walking. Her eyes widened. “Wait… marry?”
“Yeah.” His lips twisted in a grimace. “There’s this girl. Jenny. His friend’s daughter. Apparently, this brilliant idea was set in motion years ago, and now, suddenly, it’s urgent.”
Zora’s book pressed harder against her chest. Her voice was quiet. “Do you… like her?”
“Not at all.” Kamari shook his head sharply. “She’s not my type. We barely talk. Being in the same room with her feels suffocating. I don’t even think she likes me either. We’re just… props in their business play.”
Zora frowned, sympathy knitting her brows together.
They found a spot under a tree near the edge of the open field and sat down. The grass brushed softly against their legs, and the sunlight spilled across their skin. In the distance, students laughed and played, but here it was quiet, almost too quiet.
Kamari’s voice dropped lower. “He even sent someone to follow me. Like I’m some project he needs to manage.”
Zora’s eyes widened again. “He what?”
Kamari nodded, his jaw tightening. “A guard. A spy. Whatever you want to call it. I found out a few days ago. That’s partly why I came here today. I just… needed to breathe. To be with someone who doesn’t wear a mask around me.”
Zora’s heart swelled painfully in her chest.
“I’m sorry, Kamari,” she said softly.
He turned his head and looked at her, really looked. “What about you? Any family drama?”
The question caught her off guard. Most people didn’t care enough to ask. And if they did, she usually brushed it off with a polite smile. But Kamari’s eyes were too steady, too searching, like he actually wanted to know.
Zora hesitated, chewing her lip. The book in her lap became an anchor, her fingers fidgeting with its edges. “I’m the first daughter,” she began slowly. “Out of four girls. My mom’s a lecturer, my dad’s a businessman. We’re not rich, just… surviving.”
Kamari leaned back against the tree trunk, silent, listening.
“My younger sister’s in Law school. The others are still in secondary school. I’m always expected to lead, to be the strong one. But honestly?” Her throat tightened. “I don’t feel strong. Not even close.”
Her words trembled, but once they started, she couldn’t stop.
“I have anxiety. Social anxiety. It feels like the walls close in when I’m around too many people. My heart races. My palms sweat. I feel like I’m drowning in silence even when I’m screaming inside.”
Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked down, embarrassed. “Most people think I’m shy, but it’s more than that. I can’t breathe in crowds. Noise drains me. I avoid events not because I don’t want to go, but because I physically can’t handle them.”
She paused, hugging the book tighter. “And I have this… this inferiority complex. Like I’m never enough. Like I’m always on the outside, watching everyone else live while I’m stuck trying to prove I deserve to exist. I hate it. I hate how small it makes me feel.”
Her confession spilled into the quiet air, raw and unpolished. Zora swallowed hard, waiting for him to laugh, to dismiss it, to call her dramatic.
But he didn’t.
Kamari leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. Then, slowly, he reached for her hand.
Their fingers brushed, hesitated, then laced together gently.
“You’re not invisible, Zora,” he said, his voice low, steady. “You’re everything someone like me needs to keep going.”
Her breath hitched. She dared to look up, and his eyes were locked on hers, unflinching.
“Even if I’m messy?” she whispered.
“I’m messy too,” he replied with a faint smile. “You just hide it better.”
The words slipped into her chest, soft but solid, anchoring her.
For a long moment, they sat in silence, two broken souls finding comfort in each other’s cracks.
They kept talking—lighter things now, sprinkled with laughter. Kamari told her about how he once deliberately failed a math test just to avoid a business trip. Zora admitted sneaking out of a family party once, climbing to the roof just to read poetry under the stars.
He laughed, and it was genuine this time, his dimples flashing. He looked at her like she was the most fascinating person he’d ever met, and Zora’s chest ached with the realization that she wanted him to keep looking at her that way.
Later, they walked to a small food stand. Kamari bought suya and cold drinks, insisting on paying despite her protests. They sat under a shade, teasing each other over who could handle the spiciest piece. For the first time in a long while, Zora forgot about her anxiety, her complex, her invisible weight.
By the time he drove her back to the hostel, the sky had deepened into shades of orange and pink, the horizon blushing with evening.
“I had fun,” she said quietly as they pulled up.
“Me too,” Kamari replied. His gaze lingered on her. “Even with my storm, you still calmed me.”
She smiled faintly, reaching for the door. But before she could step out, he touched her wrist.
She turned back, surprised.
Kamari leaned closer, his breath brushing her cheek, and pressed a soft kiss against her skin. Not rushed. Not demanding. Just gentle, reverent.
Her heart stuttered.
He whispered, “Thanks for being my peace.”
Zora froze, heat flooding her face as he opened the door for her. She stumbled out, her fingers instinctively brushing the spot where his lips had touched.
“Goodnight, Zora,” he said softly.
She turned, still dazed. “Goodnight, Kamari.”
As she walked back into the hostel, her cheeks warm, her chest buzzing, one thought echoed louder than her doubts.
Something had shifted between them.
Something fragile.
Something undeniable.
Something real.
- Writer
