The Last First Date

One Coffee

Chapter Four

One Coffee

The morning after the accidental dinner, Amara woke up earlier than usual.

She lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

For several minutes, she didn't move.

Then she reached for her phone.

There were three notifications.

Two were from work.

One was from Tolu.

Amara opened Tolu's message first.

Tolu: We need to talk.

Amara smiled.

She already knew what the conversation was going to be about.

She typed:

Amara: Good morning to you too.

The reply came almost immediately.

Tolu: Don't change the subject.

Amara: I haven't.

Tolu: Daniel.

Amara stared at the name.

She smiled before she could stop herself.

Amara: What about him?

Tolu: You tell me.

Amara put the phone down.

She didn't want to admit that she had thought about Daniel before falling asleep.

She didn't want to admit that she'd remembered several things he'd said.

She especially didn't want to admit that she was looking forward to seeing him again.

Because that would mean something.

And Amara wasn't ready for something.

She got out of bed and headed toward the kitchen.

Her apartment was quiet.

Sunlight came through the curtains, filling the room with a warm glow.

She made coffee and stood by the window.

Lagos was already awake.

Cars moved along the road.

People hurried to work.

Buses stopped and started.

The city never seemed to sleep for very long.

Amara took a sip of coffee.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked down.

A message.

From Daniel.

Daniel: Good morning. Hope you got home safely.

Amara smiled.

She typed a reply.

Amara: Good morning. Yes, I did. You?

Daniel: Same.

A few seconds passed.

Then another message appeared.

Daniel: About that coffee...

Amara laughed quietly.

Amara: I knew you weren't going to forget.

Daniel: I don't forget things that matter.

She stared at the message.

There was something about the way he said things.

He never seemed to be trying too hard.

He didn't send long paragraphs.

He didn't flood her phone with messages.

He simply said what he meant.

That made him different.

And somehow, different was becoming dangerous.

Amara: When?

Daniel: Today?

She looked at her schedule.

She had a client meeting in the afternoon, but the morning was free.

Amara: Morning works.

Daniel: 11?

Amara: Okay.

Daniel: Same café?

Amara: Same café.

She put her phone down.

Then picked it up again.

She reread the conversation.

"Amara!"

She jumped.

Tolu's name was flashing on the screen.

She answered.

"Hello."

"You met him."

Amara laughed.

"Good morning to you too."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How was it?"

Amara walked toward the kitchen counter.

"It was fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes."

"Amara."

"Tolu."

"Tell me."

Amara sighed.

"He's nice."

There was silence.

Then Tolu screamed.

Amara pulled the phone away from her ear.

"Stop shouting!"

"He's nice!"

"Yes."

"Do you like him?"

"I barely know him."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer I have."

Tolu became quiet.

"So you're seeing him again?"

"Just coffee."

"Coffee becomes lunch."

"Not necessarily."

"Lunch becomes dinner."

"Tolu."

"Dinner becomes—"

"Stop."

Tolu laughed.

"Okay, okay."

Amara smiled.

"But seriously," Tolu said, "just enjoy yourself."

"I am."

"And don't overthink it."

"I won't."

Tolu paused.

"You promise?"

Amara looked out the window.

"I'll try."

At exactly eleven, Daniel walked into the café.

Amara was already there.

She had chosen a table near the window.

When Daniel saw her, he smiled.

"You're early."

"So are you."

"I didn't want to be late."

"Neither did I."

He sat down.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Daniel said, "How was your morning?"

"Busy."

"Work?"

"Always."

He nodded.

"Same."

The waiter came over.

"Would you like the same order as yesterday?"

Amara looked at Daniel.

"Did you tell him?"

Daniel shook his head.

"I didn't."

The waiter smiled.

"You both came yesterday."

Amara laughed.

"I didn't realize you remembered us."

"We remember regular customers."

Daniel smiled.

"Regular customers already?"

The waiter walked away.

Amara laughed.

"Don't get carried away."

"I wasn't."

"You were."

They ordered.

The conversation started easily.

They talked about work.

Then music.

Then food.

Then Lagos.

Then childhood.

At some point, Daniel asked, "What made you choose graphic design?"

Amara thought about it.

"I've always liked creating things."

"Since childhood?"

"Yes."

"What did you draw?"

"Everything."

He smiled.

"Buildings?"

"Sometimes."

"People?"

"Sometimes."

"Your teachers?"

"Definitely."

Daniel laughed.

"Did they know?"

"No."

"Smart."

She smiled.

"What about you?"

"Architecture?"

"Yes."

"My father."

"Really?"

"He thought I was good at drawing."

"And you?"

"I liked it."

"So it worked."

"Eventually."

They talked about their families.

Daniel explained that his mother was the kind of person who called three times if he didn't answer the first call.

Amara laughed.

"My mother is the same."

"Maybe mothers have a secret rule."

"Probably."

The coffee arrived.

Amara took a sip.

Daniel watched her.

"What?"

"You always make that face."

"What face?"

"Whenever the coffee is good."

"I don't make a face."

"You do."

She tried to keep a straight expression.

Daniel laughed.

"See?"

Amara laughed too.

She realized something.

She was comfortable around him.

She didn't feel like she had to perform.

She didn't need to make herself seem more successful, more interesting, or more confident.

She could simply be Amara.

And Daniel seemed perfectly happy with that.

After a while, the conversation became more serious.

Daniel looked at her.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Depends."

"Why did you stop dating?"

Amara became quiet.

She looked at her coffee.

"I had a bad relationship."

Daniel nodded.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough."

He didn't push.

That made it easier for her to continue.

"It lasted two years."

"That's a long time."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

She took a breath.

"Promises."

Daniel waited.

"Too many promises."

She looked toward the window.

"He kept saying things would change. That we'd build something together. That he was serious about me."

"And?"

"And eventually I realized I was the only one taking those promises seriously."

Daniel nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry."

Amara smiled faintly.

"I'm okay now."

"Are you?"

She looked at him.

"I think so."

He didn't say anything.

For some reason, that silence meant more than any advice could have.

Amara appreciated it.

"What about you?" she asked.

Daniel leaned back.

"I've had bad experiences too."

"Relationships?"

"Dating."

"What happened?"

He smiled slightly.

"People weren't always honest."

"That's difficult."

"Yes."

"So you stopped?"

"Pretty much."

Amara laughed.

"Then we're both terrible at this."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe we're just getting started."

She looked at him.

Daniel smiled.

She didn't know what to say.

The waiter brought the bill.

Daniel paid.

This time Amara didn't argue.

Outside the café, they stood beside their cars.

The day was bright.

The city was busy.

Daniel looked at her.

"I had a good time."

"Me too."

"Again?"

"Again what?"

"Coffee."

Amara smiled.

"Another time?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Daniel nodded.

Then he said, "But I think we should make something clear."

Amara raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I don't want this to become complicated."

She nodded.

"Neither do I."

"I like talking to you."

"I like talking to you too."

"But I don't want either of us to feel pressured."

"Agreed."

"So maybe we just become friends."

Amara smiled.

"Friends?"

"Friends."

She extended her hand.

"Deal."

Daniel shook it.

"Deal."

They smiled.

Neither of them knew how important that simple agreement would become.

Because they thought friendship would make things easier.

They thought giving their relationship a name would prevent confusion.

They thought rules could protect them from feelings.

They were wrong.

But they weren't going to discover that yet.

For now, they were just two people who had met by accident.

Two people who had agreed to be friends.

Two people who had no idea that friendship was already becoming something more.

As Amara drove away, her phone buzzed.

A message from Daniel.

Daniel: Friend?

She smiled.

Amara: Friend.

A few seconds later:

Daniel: Good.

Amara put her phone down.

She smiled at the road ahead.

For the first time in months, she was looking forward to tomorrow.

And she wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.

But she didn't mind.

Not yet.