Chapter 45: Chapter 45

- To you from you

Deila's Pov

One month.

One month since I first stepped foot on my motherland. One month of me drowning my pain away with the surprisingly bearable noise that was gotten from the busy streets of Lagos.

One month since I walked in on James thrusting vigorously into another woman. One month since the whole drama with Nat.

Three weeks and 6 days since I left my family in tears and pleas at the airport because I left the day after the drama and most horrific scene that played in James's penthouse. I just needed to get away, so then and there, their tears couldn't fill my empty self.

I felt empty. Livid. Confused. And most of all, I felt angry. Angry that I'd let a man fool me. Angry the only one time I gave a person all of my trust I ended up being used and broken.

When I saw James right there, thrusting into a writhing woman, I'd blinked twice and then thrice. I couldn't believe my eyes...didn't want to. I wanted to blink back reality. I wanted to wake up and stop dreaming. But the reality was right there in front of me.

Reality had the guts to charge towards me, trying to convince me it wasn't what I thought.

For a moment, I wanted to stay and ask him if there was another name for being a bastard or scum. I wanted him to tell me he was drugged. Anything. Anything for what I saw to be a lie, but I couldn't. I just couldn't bear the smell of sex and betrayal.

And that smirk the writhing woman gave me was one of victory. A good slap would've wiped it off her face, I thought, but I was bigger than that. She could keep the scum for all he was worth. Nothing. Nothing at all.

He wasn't worth my pain, my tears, and my heart— that was my affirmation every morning when I woke up. He wasn't worth the pain that settled in my chest, but it was still there.

When I went home that day, my family had been alerted by my appearance which I later found out was from fear that something had happened to James. When I'd been crying, pulling my head, and mumbling incoherently before Nat broke in, I thought I was never going to stop, but now that I thought of it I was pissed. Pissed that I had wasted precious tears.

After the whole scene with Nat, it was dread that filled me, so much so that I couldn't cry anymore. I was thankful James didn't try to get close to me after the FBI had taken Nat away. He'd immediately left and when I thought it couldn't, my heart broke some more.

Hours of questioning made me give up my silence and I told them everything. Starting from the text I got from James that stated Zara was already away from her abductors and was on her way home, and that he was in his apartment, but didn't want to see anyone that wasn't me at the moment.

I'd rushed —out of reliving and happiness—to his penthouse only to be met with the ugliest picture I wanted to so bad to get out of my head. I didn't want to remember. The look of pleasure on her face as she moaned, scraping his back with her claws, while she urged him to go further. The look of desperation and shock on his face only made me feel worse. He had the guts to look surprised after he told me to come over.

I never thought I'd become so weak as to run away from Atlanta because of a man, but I did and this was the second time.

When I told my family I wanted to go away to Nigeria, they had been shocked. If anything they thought I'd go back to LA, but I needed a fresh start. A whole new start. And I was getting it.

Dawn had offered for him to beat James to a pulp then send his body to the Zoo so I could stay back. The way he said it with all seriousness had made me laugh when I didn't think I had any laughter left in me, but I knew for a fact that he would've done it if I said the word— the beating him to pulp part at least.

I sighed running my hands on the sleek white mattress. I didn't regret coming here one bit. The busy streets of Lagos was what I could explore for the rest of my life and still not get enough of. I'd been more of a Tourist, still staying in a hotel — Oriental Hotels in the island part of Lagos— four weeks hadn't just done enough exploring for me. I'd been to clubs, restaurants, beaches, and whatnot.

And just last week I had ventured to Ibadan, where I met Bukola at the airport. It happened that we came from the same thing, touring, and had sat side by side in the first-class area of the airplane.

Bukola was charming and almost my age, only older by 2 years. She'd been born and brought up in Italy, and like me, wanted to get her own dose of her mother's land.

We exchanged contact and have kept in touch ever since.

Nigeria wasn't as bad as they made it seem. I was having the time of my life just doing what I wanted. Exploring new things especially in the area of food. I'd tasted the infamous Nigerian Jollof rice and had foodgasms from them.

I made plans to visit South Africa and then Ethiopia before I finally get settled in an apartment in Nigeria.

I wasn't as lonely as I thought I'd be, not that I minded. I loved my lonely.

The last time I did a group video call with my parents and siblings, they'd been surprised when I told them I wasn't lonely. They tried convincing me to come back amongst other things like trying to convince me to hear James out. I was hurt, one day they wanted to tear him to pieces, and the next they want me to hear him out. The last time they did, Dawn nodded in agreement and that did it.

We ended the call on a lighter argument on how I found the peace that came with being alone to be a company and I assured them when it got too lonely, I go down to the reception just to observe.

I'd made an acquaintance with one of the bar attendants, Mark. He was intrigued when I told him I was A Nigerian American, born and brought up in the states, just like most people I'd told. They always mistook me for a black American. Another thing that intrigued Mark as he'd said was my no-alcohol policy.

According to him, the non-alcoholic drinks they had were rarely ordered, and when they were, it was mostly by kids. But what could I say, alcohol wasn't my thing.

I sprung to my feet when I heard room service from outside my room door. God, I was famished. Thinking could do that.

I opened the door, letting the server wheel the tray inside.

"Thanks, leave it there," I told him when he was almost getting to the foot of the bed.

He gave a polite smile and bowed, then he was out.

"Phew!" I sighed, sitting down on the bed.

I opened the tray, inhaling the sweet aroma of roasted salmon chicken and salad. I reached for the glass of freshly pressed mango and banana— another thing I'd discovered could give good foodgasms since my exploring.

After I ate a good amount of the chicken lap and salad, I prepared the tub for soaking.

One of the things I discovered since my coming to Nigeria, was that soaking in a tub could be the most underrated peaceful activity ever. I loved soaking in the tub with all the scenting soap, mostly the lavender. It had become a ritual for me.

I soaked for about an hour or two, I didn't know exactly... I just seemed to have lost count of time when I soaked these days.

I came out of the tub and plugged in the stretcher. I wanted to keep my hair straight for the day. I seemed to be doing a lot of it lately, amongst other things that involved me being focused on myself and doing what I wanted.

"Self-love is underrated," I said to myself, stretching the first cut of the hair.

Another thing, I'd been soliloquizing a whole lot, I always soliloquized, but these days it was becoming a habit.

As much as I loved the company I found in myself, I got dressed and made my way downstairs to the bar.

Mark must be on his shift by now, I thought to myself, checking the huge wall clock that took the shape of a butterfly, so elegant where it sat at the hotel lobby.

"Hey, Mark." I sat at the chair that was fast becoming my favorite since it was directly in front of where Mark stood, that way I could talk to him without having to strain my voice and at the same time watch the mass of people coming in, or going out.

"Hello, Delilah."

I grinned, shaking my head at what he'd insisted on calling me from the very first day I told him my name.

"How've you been today? Do I get you any drink?"

"I've been alive and no, no drink. I just drank a cup of that mango-banana smoothie you got me hooked on."

He chuckled. "I'm glad I did."

"Yeah. So when did you get in and when's your shift ending?"

"I started an hour ago, you've 8 hours more to enjoy me." He winked.

I giggled. Mark was such a flirt, but he flirted respectfully if there was anything like that, he never once crossed his boundaries otherwise I wouldn't have been there, sitting and chatting with him like he was my long lost brother.

"You don't feed your ego too much. Now that I think of it, I'd pass on enjoying you. I'd go to the market at Aja. I just love how busy it gets."

He chuckled and I knew it was because of how I pronounced 'Aja'. "All these oyibo people seff, dem dey always enjoy the busy streets of Lagos. I find nothing interesting in going to the market. The last time you went there, you got lost and couldn't find your car."

"Shit," I cursed, remembering the incident. I was lost the moment I stepped foot into the market.

Callings and pulling from left and right as people hailed you to patronize them could do that to you. I found my white blue mustang—a rental car I'd gotten the minute I landed in the country— two hours after searching.

"You'd like to remind me." I rolled my eyes at him. "Or do I wait till your shift ends so you can accompany me?"

"Dei," he whined. "You know I don't like it there, you wouldn't if you'd had to go there all 20 years of your life."

I chucked when he pouted.

"Please," I emphasized the word, blinking dramatically and giving him my best puppy dog face.

Nostalgia hit me as I saw Sia's face taking the exact form mine did when she asked something of my parents. Then I thought of Mari spanking her butt as she walked to the kitchen jar, stretching to reach it and almost giving up just as Dawn walks to her, easily reaching it to take one himself before handing her the jar.

God, I missed them, but I'll survive. I've gone longest without them, I thought in conclusion.

"Okay, okay," he agreed repeatedly. "You were thinking of your family again weren't you?"

I nodded yes. I didn't usually go personal with a person I just met, I was an observer and only opened up to someone I'd an emotional connection with.

But Mark was different, I had a connection with him almost immediately, in a sibling kind of way. And besides, the last person I was observing turned out to be a psycho just when I thought I'd observed him enough. People will be people.

I'd only gone as far as my family after he told me about his too. We didn't venture further, and I appreciated that.

I wasn't to venture further to topics I wasn't ready to talk about him—my love life for example or lack of none.

"Go back home to them. Why won't you?"

" 'Cause I don't want to. I'm not ready and besides I plan on settling here, I told you already."

But Mark's attention wasn't on me. Something had caught his attention, and that something was behind me.

"Mark," I called.

No answer.

"Mark." I waved a hand in front of him, trying to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.

"Erm Dei, you'd want to see. Someone is walking towards us right now, and if I was straight, I'd still think he's the hottest man to walk on earth."

I turned to see just what the hell he was on about.

The man whose sight I was met with stood unmoving, his hands in his pockets in what appeared to be nervousness.

He was the last person I wanted to see.

He was the person I never wanted to see.

"You."