Chapter 11
1220 Words
Richard’s POV
The estate was glowing by mid-afternoon. My mother’s gardeners had been at work since dawn—trimming, watering, placing fresh orchids and roses along the cobblestone paths that led into the lush backyard.
It wasn’t just a picnic.
It was an event.
An elegant white canopy was set up, shielding the polished tables from the Lagos sun. Thick Persian rugs were spread over the trimmed grass, scattered with velvet cushions and gold-trimmed baskets filled with pastries, berries, and imported cheeses. Crystal glasses clinked, soft jazz played from hidden speakers, and servants in white uniforms moved gracefully, refilling drinks and offering delicate hors d’oeuvres.
My mother, of course, was in her element. Laughing in her wide-brimmed hat, waving her bejeweled fingers as she greeted family members with warm kisses and theatrical hugs.
Her sister—Aunty Derin—had arrived early with her children, who were already making rounds and catching up with the cousins they hadn’t seen in a while. The air buzzed with conversations, inside jokes, and the nostalgia of old family gatherings.
I greeted everyone, my presence earning polite smiles and side-hugs. Then the sleek black SUV pulled in.
Stephanie.
She stepped out looking like she’d just walked off the pages of a luxury fashion spread. Her champagne-colored maxi dress flowed with every move, her curls pinned up delicately to reveal a pair of diamond-studded earrings. Behind her, her parents followed—equally polished and regal.
“Mama!” Stephanie called out, her voice bright as she rushed to hug my mother.
My mother lit up. “Ah ah! My darling Stephanie!”
Their reunion turned into an elaborate show of affection. My mother doted on her like she was a daughter, whispering compliments, fussing over her earrings, and introducing her proudly to everyone as “the top doctor who came all the way from Canada.”
Stephanie made her rounds effortlessly, exchanging hugs with my cousins—Tolu, Ronke, Jide.
“You and Richard still haven’t tied the knot?” Tolu teased, sipping his mimosa.
“Honestly,” Ronke added with a laugh. “We all thought you’d be engaged by now.”
Stephanie giggled coyly, her eyes drifting toward me. “You never know. The heart wants what it wants.”
I smirked quietly, but my mind was elsewhere. I scanned the garden again, looking past the tents, past the chatter and fake laughs.
She wasn’t here.
“Excuse me,” I said, brushing past my cousins.
I walked toward the far end of the mansion, where the garden met the house.
And there she was.
Tracy.
Sitting quietly beneath a mango tree in the shade, her back slightly turned to the party. Her feet curled beneath her on a wicker bench, dress simple but graceful, the delicate necklace I’d gifted her glinting against her collarbone like it belonged there.
I walked up slowly.
“Why are you out here alone?”
She looked up, caught off guard. “I—just needed air. The crowd is… a lot.”
“I figured,” I said with a half-smile, my eyes trailing her features. Her braids were gone—cornrows loosened, leaving her hair in soft natural waves that framed her face beautifully.
My fingers moved before I even realized.
I reached out and gently tucked a strand behind her ear. “You look… really good like this.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you.”
I let my hand linger just a little. Her skin was warm. Soft.
“You loosened your cornrows.”
“Yeah. My scalp needed to breathe,” she said, smiling nervously.
“I’m taking you to the salon tomorrow,” I said.
“What?”
“Anywhere you want. Full spa experience. My treat.”
“Richard, that’s—”
“I want to,” I interrupted softly.
She opened her mouth, maybe to protest again—but then stopped.
Neither of us noticed the shadow that stood a few feet away, hidden just enough behind a pillar.
Stephanie had followed me. She’d come to call me back to the party—but froze the moment she saw my hand on Tracy’s cheek. Saw the way I looked at her like nothing else mattered.
Tracy noticed her first.
Her eyes dropped instantly. “I should go help Mrs. Ada,” she muttered, standing up and brushing her dress down.
She walked away quickly.
I turned slowly.
Stephanie stepped forward, keeping her face composed. But her eyes… they flickered with something new. Something cold.
“So,” she said lightly. “You’re getting… close with your mother’s help?”
I raised a brow. “Stephanie, don’t.”
“I’m just asking.”
“No, you’re not. You’re assuming.”
She tilted her head, lips twitching. “Fine. Then I’ll ask. Do you like her?”
My jaw tightened. “Who I like is none of your business.”
Her smile faltered. Just for a second. But then she nodded and walked back to the party.
⸻
By nightfall, the guests were gone.
The mansion was quiet again.
But I wasn’t done.
I found myself in front of Tracy’s door. I didn’t knock—I hesitated.
Then knocked once.
She opened slowly. Her eyes were tired, but she didn’t seem surprised to see me.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
She stepped aside. “Sure.”
I walked in. Her room was softly lit. Candles flickered on the nightstand. Her scent filled the space—coconut oil and something else warm, feminine.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I said.
“Then why are you?”
I turned to her. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I try to, I can’t.”
She looked down, heart racing.
“You’re all I think about, Tracy,” I continued. “Since that day we met in the kitchen . Since the garden. The way you laugh, the way you look when you’re lost in thought. You’re not just beautiful—you’re different. And I feel it. I know you do too.”
She shook her head. “Richard…”
“Just… tell me to leave, and I will. Tell me to forget all of this.”
Silence.
Then I stepped closer.
Slowly.
Her breath caught.
Our eyes locked.
I reached for her waist gently, my hands trembling slightly.
Her lips parted.
When our mouths finally met, it was soft. Tender.
But then something ignited.
She leaned in, arms wrapping around my neck, pulling me closer. I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding along her back, memorizing every inch. Her body pressed against mine, warm and real. Her fingers gripped my shirt as if letting go would break something.
She was fire and silk. Soft and strong.
And I didn’t want to stop.
But then—she pulled away, breathless.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I have a boyfriend.”
My heart sank.
“I know,” I said softly.
“I love him.”
“I get it.”
“But…”
I didn’t wait for the ‘but.’
I stepped back, nodded, and turned toward the door.
“Goodnight, Tracy.”
And just like that, I left her room, my chest tight, mind spinning, and lips still tingling with everything that kiss had promised.
- Writer
