Addicted Again
755 Words
After the kiss in the rain, everything became complicated again.
Worse than before.
Because now Kenneth and Bertha could no longer pretend the feelings were gone.
The emotional distance they fought so hard to build had collapsed in one night.
And both of them knew it.
Kenneth tried distracting himself with work the next morning.
But concentration became impossible.
Every few minutes, his mind replayed Bertha beneath the rain the way she touched his face, the way she trembled against him when he kissed her, the look in her eyes afterward.
It affected him too deeply.
More than he wanted to admit.
Meanwhile, Bertha walked around her apartment smiling at nothing.
For the first time in months, hope felt real again.
Not because they had officially reconciled.
But because Kenneth kissed her like a man who still belonged emotionally to her.
And Bertha could feel it clearly.
He was still fighting himself.
Still resisting love he hadn’t stopped feeling.
By afternoon, Kenneth’s phone buzzed.
A message from Bertha.
“I can still feel your kiss.”
Kenneth stared at the message with immediate tension building in his chest.
He shouldn’t reply.
He knew that.
But emotional addiction doesn’t disappear simply because people decide it should.
A few seconds later, another message arrived.
“Tell me you didn’t feel it too.”
Kenneth closed his eyes briefly.
Then finally replied.
“Bertha…”
Her heartbeat quickened instantly the moment she saw his typing notification appear.
“This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”
Bertha smiled sadly after reading it.
Because even his resistance sounded emotional.
She replied softly:
“Maybe because we’re not supposed to avoid each other.”
Kenneth leaned back heavily in his chair.
That was the dangerous thing about Bertha.
She always knew how to reach the emotional parts of him he tried hardest to protect.
That evening, they talked on the phone again for the first time in weeks.
At first the conversation stayed careful.
Safe.
“How was work?”
“How’s your brand growing?”
“Did you eat?”
Normal questions.
But beneath every sentence lived tension neither of them acknowledged directly.
Then eventually silence settled between them.
Not awkward silence.
Intimate silence.
The kind they used to share before everything broke apart.
Bertha’s voice finally became softer.
“I missed hearing your voice.”
Kenneth swallowed slowly.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because you know what it does to me.”
Her chest tightened beautifully at his honesty.
“Do you still love me?” she asked quietly.
Kenneth didn’t answer immediately.
Bertha heard him exhale slowly through the phone.
Then finally,
“Yes.”
The word entered her heart like warmth returning after winter.
But Kenneth continued before she could speak.
“That doesn’t mean everything is fixed.”
Bertha nodded slowly despite him not seeing her.
“I know.”
“No, Bertha… listen carefully.”
His tone became serious now.
“I still think about what happened every single day.”
The guilt returned instantly.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.”
“And I’d take it back if I could.”
Kenneth’s voice softened painfully.
“But you can’t.”
Silence returned again.
This time heavier.
More honest.
“What are we doing?” Kenneth finally asked.
Bertha looked out her window at the dark Lagos skyline glowing softly in the distance.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Because this feels dangerous.”
“It feels real.”
Kenneth almost laughed bitterly.
“Sometimes those are the same thing.”
That sentence stayed in Bertha’s mind long after the call ended.
Because deep down…
both of them understood the truth now.
They were emotionally addicted to each other.
Not just in love.
Addicted.
And addiction makes people return to things even after they know the damage they can cause.
Later that night, Kenneth stood alone on his balcony again staring into the city.
His phone still held Bertha’s messages.
His heart still held Bertha’s voice.
And no matter how much logic warned him to stay away…
his emotions kept pulling him back toward her.
Meanwhile, Bertha lay in bed hugging one of Kenneth’s old hoodies tightly against her chest.
For the first time since the breakup, she slept peacefully.
Because hope had returned.
But neither of them yet understood this truth:
Sometimes love returns before trust does.
And when that happens…
people can become trapped between desire and fear.
- Writer
