The law of seduction
Episode 20
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
. . . . . . . .
The drive to Chike’s apartment was unusually quiet. The rain had softened to a mist, casting a grey film over the windshield. Bimpe sat beside him, hands folded tightly on her lap, her heart thudding like a drum too afraid to speak.
Chike didn’t say much.
His fingers drummed the steering wheel lightly, his eyes fixed on the road, but his jaw clenched with a kind of restlessness that Bimpe had seen before when he was thinking too much, feeling too deeply but refusing to show it.
She stole a glance at him. His profile looked sharper under the dim lighting, almost colder, but familiar in a way that made her chest ache.
For all his faults, for all the games he played with her heart, there was something in Chike that always pulled her back.
Maybe it was the way he held onto her when she least expected it. Maybe it was the chaos he carried like perfume—dangerous, addictive.
When they got to his place, he parked and turned to her. For a moment, he didn’t speak just looked at her like she was a puzzle he still hadn’t figured out.
“You came,” he said, as if still surprised. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
Bimpe nodded slowly. “I shouldn’t have... but I did.”
He reached over, brushing a wet curl from her cheek. “That’s what I love about you. Even when you hate me, you come.”
The words made her chest squeeze.
Inside, his apartment smelled of cedarwood and faint cologne. The curtains were drawn, casting soft shadows across the room.
He took her handgently, but with purpose and led her into the bedroom without a word.
Bimpe’s breath caught as he paused, standing in front of her. His eyes darkened not with anger, but hunger.
A hunger not just for her body, but for something deeper. Control. Connection. Certainty in the chaos.
He kissed her then slow, consuming, like he wanted to taste every argument, every doubt, every moment they had lost.
The kiss deepened, and Bimpe felt herself melting into him, her body remembering what her mind had tried to forget. The fire. The heat. The way he made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered.
He whispered into her ear, “I missed you. But I need you to trust me tonight. Fully.”
Before she could reply, he gently pressed her onto the bed, his movements slow, deliberate.
He pulled off his belt not with aggression, but something far more intense. Controlled desire.
Bimpe’s eyes widened slightly, her breath quickening.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She hesitated but only for a second before nodding.
He tied her wrists gently to the bedpost with the belt, careful not to hurt her, only to hold her still. It wasn’t about punishment.
It was about surrender, his need to have her completely, and her reluctant willingness to let him.
Bimpe lay there, heart racing, not from fear, but from the sheer vulnerability of it all.
Chike undressed slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Every movement felt deliberate, worshipful.
He leaned in close, his lips brushing against hers as he whispered, “No distractions. No lies. Just us. Tonight, I want to remind you who you are to me.”
And he did over and over again with every kiss, every caress, every whispered word in the dim glow of that room.
What they shared wasn’t just physical. It was raw. Deep. A storm that neither of them could escape from, nor wanted to.
Later, when their bodies lay tangled in silence, Bimpe stared at the ceiling, her wrists still loosely bound, her heart still thudding in her chest.
Chike untied her gently, kissing the red marks softly. “Did I scare you?”
She shook her head. “No. But you always make me feel too much.”
He laughed softly, brushing a finger down her arm. “That’s the point.”
She turned to look at him, seeing the boy behind the man. The man who wanted control because he feared being lost.
The man who broke her heart but also knew how to put it back together in the strangest ways.
“Chike...” she whispered.
He blinked, like he hadn’t heard his name said like that in a long time. Soft. Unsure. Loving.
“Are we okay?” she asked, voice trembling with hope.
He looked at her for a long time before answering.
“We’re not okay. But we’re something. And I’m not letting that go.”
. . . . . . . .
The next morning, the sun crept gently through the curtains of Chike’s bedroom. Bimpe stirred slightly under the sheets, the warmth of the night still lingering on her skin. The belt that had once bound her wrist now lay forgotten beside the pillow, a silent witness to everything they shared hours ago.
Chike stood by the window, shirtless, staring into the quiet streets below. His face looked calm, but his eyes were restless haunted almost.
There was a tenderness in how he looked back at her, a strange sort of reverence.
Bimpe sat up slowly, her body aching, not just from passion, but from the emotions she couldn’t name. He had made her feel wanted more than that, consumed. But she couldn't shake the question in her heart:
Who exactly is Chike and what is he hiding behind this need to control?
“Morning,” she said softly.
He turned. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Hey.”
There was a silence that followed. Not uncomfortable just full. Heavy with things left unsaid.
Bimpe reached for her shirt. “Last night was... different.”
“Different bad?” he asked, his voice low.
She paused, looking at him. “Different deep.”
That seemed to hit him. He looked away quickly, as if the truth of her words cut too close.
She stood and walked over, touching his arm gently. “Talk to me. There’s something behind all this. You love hard, Chike... but you hurt hard too.”
He tensed.
For a long time, he said nothing. Then, almost out of nowhere, he exhaled.
“When I was seventeen,” he began, “I found my mum in bed with a man who wasn’t my dad. She cried. She begged me not to tell him. Said he would kill her if he found out. I never did tell him. But... I never looked at her the same.”
Bimpe’s heart froze.
“She loved recklessly. Passionately. Like her emotions were wars she couldn’t win. She needed attention... needed to be desired. My dad was distant. Military man. Hard. Cold. I think she stayed alive by being needed.”
He laughed bitterly. “And me? I grew up needing control. Because if I didn’t take it... everything else would.”
Bimpe touched his face gently. “You’re not your parents, Chike.”
“No,” he said. “But I carry pieces of them I wish I could cut out.”
She kissed his chest lightly. “You don't have to tie people up to keep them close.”
He looked down at her, eyes softening. “But you didn’t run.”
“No,” she whispered. “Because I saw the pain behind it. And because... a part of me likes how much you want me.”
They stayed like that, holding each other.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message from Adanna:
"Babe, are you okay? That guy..Chike, that dropped you yesterday looked intense. Just checking in."
Bimpe smiled, replying quickly.
"I’m fine. I’ll explain later."
Chike saw the smile and raised a brow. “Who’s that?”
“Adanna. She’s... protective.”
He nodded. “She’s good for you.”
“And you?”
“I’m bad for you,” he said honestly. “But I want to learn how to be good.”
Bimpe wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Then stay. Learn. With me.”
His arms found her waist, pulling her close.
Maybe they weren’t perfect. Maybe they were just two broken people trying to love through the cracks.
But for now... they were here.
And sometimes, here was enough.
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The Law of Seduction
Episode 19
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
Bimpe was about to slip quietly out of the room when a sudden, sharp sound shattered the calm the unmistakable blare of a car horn, urgent and impatient, echoing through the quiet neighborhood.
Her heart leapt into her throat, every nerve on edge. She paused, hand hovering over the door handle, breath shallow and quick. The sound was a summons she had dreaded but couldn’t avoid.
Just then, the door creaked open slowly, and Adanna stepped inside. Her eyes were wide with concern, her brow furrowed in confusion as she took in the tension on Bimpe’s face.
“Bimpe?” Adanna’s voice was gentle but filled with urgency. She took a cautious step forward. “I just heard Chike’s car outside. Why is he here? Is everything alright?”
Bimpe swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing heavier. She looked down at her hands, trembling slightly, before meeting Adanna’s steady gaze.
“I… I don’t really know,” Bimpe confessed quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “He said he was coming to pick me up. I told him I’d come…”
Adanna’s eyes softened, but there was still a sharp edge of worry. She closed the door behind her and walked over, placing a reassuring hand on Bimpe’s arm.
“Bimpe, after everything that’s happened… are you sure this is what you want? You know he hasn’t always been the easiest person to trust,” she said carefully, her voice low but firm. “You have to protect yourself, too.”
Bimpe nodded slowly, the truth of her friend’s words settling deep inside her.
A swirl of emotions stirred uncertainty, fear, but also a stubborn flicker of hope she hadn’t dared to name.
She drew a deep breath and looked into Adanna’s eyes, finding strength in the concern there.
“I have to see him,” she said, her voice gaining quiet resolve. “I need to know if there’s still something real between us. Something worth holding on to.”
Adanna’s face softened with understanding, and she gave Bimpe’s arm a gentle squeeze.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Just promise me one thing if it gets too much, if you feel anything that’s unsafe or wrong, you come straight back here. No questions asked.”
Bimpe managed a small, grateful smile, feeling a fragile warmth bloom in her chest. The weight of loneliness had lessened with Adanna’s presence.
“I promise,” she said, voice steady now.
For a moment, the two friends stood in silence, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the occasional impatient honk from outside.
Bimpe’s mind flashed back to a memory, the first time she and Chike had laughed together under a sky full of stars, before the pain had crept in. That memory gave her a tiny glimmer of hope, fragile but alive.
Adanna stepped back towards her desk, but before she left the room, she looked over her shoulder with a final word of encouragement.
“You’re stronger than you think, Bimpe. Just don’t forget you don’t have to go through this alone.”
Bimpe nodded, heart pounding as she moved toward the door.
The horn sounded again loud and demanding pulling her toward whatever awaited in the night.
She took one last deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come, and opened the door.
****
Bimpe hesitated at the threshold, the night air cool against her bare skin, carrying the faint scent of rain that had just passed.
Her heart thundered wildly, each beat echoing the questions swirling inside her head.
What am I really walking into? she wondered. Is this the moment that will change everything, or just deepen the cracks?
She pressed her palm against the doorframe, grounding herself. I’ve been so tired of fighting alone, she thought.
Maybe this is the chance to finally find peace or at least answers. But doubt gnawed at her. What if I’m just setting myself up to get hurt again?
The memories of past arguments, cold silences, and broken promises flickered in her mind like shadows she couldn’t shake.
Still, beneath the fear was a stubborn thread of hope, a hope that maybe, just maybe, Chike’s words tonight weren’t just empty pleas but a genuine desire to fix what was broken.
I have to believe in something, she told herself. Even if it’s fragile.
Her hand trembled as she opened the door fully and stepped out into the dimly lit street. The distant hum of the city was muffled, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
There he was—Chike—leaning casually against the driver’s side door of his car, rain droplets still glistening on the windshield.
His eyes found hers immediately, and in them, she saw a mix of urgency and vulnerability that both comforted and unsettled her.
He straightened as she approached, the weight of the night pressing between them like an unspoken question.
“Bimpe,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Thank you for coming.”
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice.
“I’m here. What do you want to say, Chike? Why now?”
He looked away for a moment, then back at her, as if gathering courage.
“I was wrong to disappear,” he admitted, his voice low. “I should have been here. I want to be here. I don’t want to lose you.”
Bimpe searched his face, looking for the truth behind his words. Part of her longed to believe him, to let the walls she’d built around her heart crumble. But another part held tight to the pain she’d endured.
“I don’t know if we can go back,” she whispered.
“Things have changed.”
He reached out, hesitating before gently taking her hand. “Maybe we don’t go back. Maybe we find a new way forward together.”
Her breath caught, heart pounding fiercely. The storm inside her raged, but somewhere deep down, a small light flickered fragile, uncertain, but alive.
The Law of Seduction
Episode 18
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
Bimpe sat on the edge of her bed, the towel slipping slightly from her damp skin as a shiver ran through her. The rain outside drummed relentlessly on the roof, each drop like a tiny echo of the ache in her heart. Her phone rested heavy in her palm, its screen glowing with Chike’s last message: “I’m on my way. I need you to trust me tonight.”
Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the screen. Trust. A fragile word that had crumbled between them like dry leaves underfoot. She had been building walls so high and thick she wasn’t even sure if she remembered how to climb down from them anymore.
Her mind replayed the weeks before—countless missed calls, cold silences, unspoken words curling between them like smoke. He had been her partner once, the one she turned to when the world felt too heavy. But now, every conversation left her raw and vulnerable, every promise felt like a threadbare coat shielding her from a relentless storm.
Why did it have to be this hard? she wondered bitterly.
The rain pressed against the windowpane, blurring the city lights into soft halos. The world outside seemed indifferent, moving on as if her heartbreak was invisible.
A sudden buzz broke the silence — her phone ringing again.
“Bimpe,” Chike’s voice came through, softer this time, as if he was standing just beyond a fragile barrier. “Please don’t shut me out.
I know I’ve messed up. But I’m trying. I want to fix this. You and me.. we’re supposed to be a team.”
She swallowed hard, the rawness in her throat making it difficult to speak. “You say that now,” she whispered, voice cracking. “But where were you when I needed you? When I asked for your help and you didn’t answer? When I sent you those messages about the business? You ignored me.”
The line was quiet for a moment. Then, with a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “I was scared. Scared that if I stepped in, I’d make things worse. Scared I’d lose you. But losing you is the only thing I’m terrified of now.”
Her breath hitched. She wanted to believe him.
She wanted to believe that beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, was still the man she once loved the man who had held her when the world had felt unbearable.
“I’m scared too, Chike,” she confessed, tears welling and blurring her vision. “Scared I’m fighting for a love that might never be enough for either of us. Scared that I’m alone even when you’re supposed to be here.”
A long silence stretched between them, filled with the ghosts of their past mistakes and lost moments.
“Then let me prove it,” he said, his voice steady now, full of quiet determination. “Tonight, just let me be there. Let me show you I’m not your enemy.”
She bit her lip, torn between hope and the protective armor she’d worn for so long.
“Okay,” she said softly, “But if this is another game if I feel like I’m just being hurt again—I’m done.”
“I promise,” Chike said, relief clear in his voice. “No more games. Just us. No pretenses.”
The call ended, leaving Bimpe with the sudden quiet of her room. Her heart thundered wildly, matching the storm outside. She felt fragile, exposed like the rain itself was washing away the walls she had built.
She moved slowly, dressing with trembling hands, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her. But somewhere beneath the fear and the doubt was a stubborn spark.. a desperate hope that love might still survive if they dared to face their shadows together.
As she locked the door behind her and stepped into the wet night, the rain soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. But she walked toward Chike’s car with resolve. Tonight, she would either find the love she’d been fighting for or finally let it go.
****
Bimpe stood in the quiet stillness of Adanna’s room, the soft glow of a single bedside lamp casting warm pools of light over the neatly arranged books and scattered makeup brushes. The room felt like a sanctuary a fragile cocoon of calm that stood in stark contrast to the turmoil roiling inside her.
She reached out slowly, her fingers trembling just slightly as they grasped the soft fabric of her blouse. The silk felt cool and soothing beneath her fingertips, an unexpected comfort as she pulled it over her head, the delicate collar brushing against her skin like a whispered promise.
Her breath hitched when the blouse caught momentarily on a stray strand of hair, and she carefully tucked it in, smoothing the fabric down over her frame.
The faint scent of lavender and vanilla lingered in the air, the remnants of Adanna’s perfume, a scent that always reminded her of strength and resilience.
She paused in front of the mirror, the glass reflecting not just her image but the woman she had become, a mosaic of hope, fear, and fierce determination. Her eyes traced the fine lines around her mouth and the shadows beneath her eyes, marks of sleepless nights and endless questions.
For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different future a future where love wasn’t a battlefield, where she wasn’t constantly caught between wanting to hold on and needing to let go.
Her fingers lightly touched the glass, as if trying to grasp something beyond the reflection, when a sudden memory surged forward, vivid and unbidden, pulling her back to a moment when hope had seemed almost tangible.
Flashback — Six Months Earlier
The night was cool, the air thick with the scent of rain just passed. Bimpe and Chike stood on the cracked pavement outside the dimly lit café, the hum of the city softened to a distant murmur.
Chike’s hands were rough but gentle as they found hers, intertwining their fingers with a hesitant tenderness.
His gaze held hers, searching, steady and open in a way that made her breath catch.
“I don’t want to lose us,” he said, his voice low and steady, as if speaking a sacred vow.
“No matter what happens, no matter what tries to pull us apart—I’ll fight for you. For us.”
In that moment, beneath the faint glow of a streetlamp and the quiet watch of indifferent stars, hope bloomed fragile and fierce inside her chest.
Bimpe met his eyes, seeing the raw sincerity etched there the kind of vulnerability that only comes from love tested by hardship. She swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered, “I believe you.”
That night had been a turning point a fleeting promise that even amidst pain and uncertainty, love could still be a lifeline.
Back to Present
The warmth of that memory settled over Bimpe like a balm, stirring a gentle flame in the depths of her heart.
Here, in Adanna’s room, surrounded by quiet comfort and the soft hum of the night, that flame flickered with renewed strength.
Her breath deepened as she ran a hand through her hair, the familiar motion grounding her amid the storm of doubt and fear.
She thought of all the days spent wrestling with silence, the ache of unanswered calls and cold messages, the nights when loneliness threatened to swallow her whole.
But tonight, something was different. The fragile thread of hope woven into that memory held tight. Maybe—just maybe—there was a path forward.
She glanced at the door where Adanna sat quietly, offering a steady smile that spoke of unwavering friendship and belief. That smile was a lifeline.. A reminder that she didn’t have to face this alone.
With trembling hands, Bimpe gathered her small bag and checked her reflection one last time. The woman staring back was weary but unbroken. There was fear, yes, but also a fierce determination that no storm could extinguish.
As she stepped toward the door, the distant sound of rain began to fall softly again—gentle, rhythmic, cleansing. It was a new beginning, or at least the promise of one.
She took a deep breath, bracing herself for what the night might bring.
The law of seduction
Episode 17
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
. ****
Bimpe stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from her hair, the warmth fading quickly in the cool air of her room. She wrapped a towel tightly around herself and reached for her phone.
Bimpe stood by the window, rain streaking down the glass like the tears she fought to hold back.
Her phone lay silent beside her, then suddenly buzzed with Chike’s name glowing on the screen. Her heart clenched—why now? After days of silence, after all the cold she had felt from him, he was calling like nothing had changed.
She hesitated, biting her lip before answering.
“Hello?” Her voice was barely steady.
“Bimpe,” Chike’s voice came out sharp, urgent, laced with frustration. “Where have you been? I’ve called you every day. You just vanish like I don’t even matter to you.”
Her chest tightened. How quickly he turned it all on her—like her being distant was the only reason for the silence, ignoring that he had refused to send those people for her business, and that he hadn’t called even once.
“I needed time... to think,” she said softly, hoping to sound calm.
“Time to think?” he scoffed, like it was the most selfish thing in the world. “You always need time to think when I try to help you. Like when I told you I’d send those people for your business, and you ignored me? You make everything about you, Bimpe! You never stop to think about me.”
His voice cracked, as if he were wounded, but the pain felt manufactured, designed to twist her guilt.
“I’m sorry, Chike,” she whispered, fighting the tears. “But you didn’t call me either… for days. So don’t blame me for not answering.”
A heavy silence fell, then his voice softened, almost coaxing. “Maybe I was waiting for you to call first. Like always. But you shut me out completely, like I’m the one who did something wrong.”
Bimpe’s heart ached with a familiar, bitter pain. It was always like this... she was the one who had to apologize, who had to fix everything, who had to carry the weight of their problems on her shoulders. And still, she loved him. She hated that she did.
“I just want you to come over,” Chike said, voice low and tender, but with an edge that made her skin crawl. “I’ll even come pick you up. You don’t have to say no. You know the real reason you’re avoiding me.. it’s always about your feelings, but what about me? I’m freezing here in this rain. I need you, Bimpe.”
His voice cracked again, like a wounded animal begging for mercy. “You know I love you. I don’t want us to be like this. But you make it impossible when you keep shutting me out.”
Bimpe bit her lip, fighting the tears. How could she believe him? After all the times he’d blamed her for his own mistakes? After he refused to help with her business, then made her feel like she was the one sabotaging everything?
Her thoughts churned, battling between her love for him and the cold truth she didn’t want to face.
Maybe he’s right, she thought bitterly. Maybe I’m the one pushing him away. But if he really loved me, why would he disappear for days? Why would he make everything about me, like I’m the cause of all this pain?
Her hands trembled as she wiped her eyes. She hated how much she still cared. She hated how he made her feel like she was never enough, like she was the villain in their story.
But love was stubborn. It wouldn’t let go so easily.
“I’ll come,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Because I love you. Even if it feels like you’re playing with my heart.”
“Good,” he said, a quiet victory in his tone. “I’ll be there soon. Just get ready. You don’t have to fight me on this.”
She ended the call, clutching her phone to her chest, feeling the storm inside her rage against the storm outside. Torn between wanting to believe him and knowing she probably shouldn’t, she let the tears fall freely this time, tears of love, tears of hurt, tears of a heart caught in a painful game it didn’t know how to escape.
The laws of seduction
Episode 16
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
****
We heard a loud knock on the door and I beckoned unto bola to see who it was, she responded that it was Bimbe.
I immediately stood up from Jide's lap and he noticed how the whole atmosphere had shifted.
"Let her in". I quickly answered.
Bimbe walked in soaked up, the rain had really dealt with her, she scanned the atmosphere for a bit while bola raced to get her a towel.
"Bim-bimpe".I tried calling.
Her eyes gave me the look that she was furious with me, she wrapped herself with the towel and walked right in to see Jide sitting close to where I stand.
"I see, no wonder". Was her response before she walked into my bedroom.
"I will be back". I said to Jide as I immediately followed put.
"Is that why?". Bimpe said turning to face me.
"I would explain but first you need a warm bathe and new clothes". I tried saying.
"I kept calling you everyday but you just chose not to answer and today am seeing you with a man, what do you possibly want me to think?". Bimpe came at me rolling her eyes.
"I know, I know and am sorry, I truly am". I tried to say.
"Ada, you had one breakdown and you decided to shut everyone including me... Wow". She said pulling off her clothes.
"I didn't mean too". I tried saying.
"But you still did, Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me?, my business?, Chike?, you just ghosted of... Of course you did, you're your own writer, you wrote your book and if doesn't go as you planned you push everyone away". Bimpe cried out upset.
I stood there, the weight of Bimpe’s words pressing against the fragile walls I’d built around myself. Her frustration wasn’t just anger—it was fear, disappointment, and hurt all tangled into one.
“I didn’t mean to shut you out,” I whispered, the ache in my chest raw and real. “I just… I needed time. Time to figure out who I was without everything crashing down around me.”
Bimpe shook her head, wrapping the towel tighter. “You think I didn’t need time too? You think it was easy for me to watch you disappear? To not know if you were alive, or if you even wanted to be?”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“But sorry doesn’t fix the silence.” Her voice cracked. “Not when I was left to hold everything together.”
I reached out, but she stepped back, eyes blazing. “You write about survival, Ada, but what about the people who survive with you? Who needed you just as much?”
Her words hit harder than I expected.
“I’m here now,” I said, voice trembling, “and I want to make it right.”
Bimpe looked at me, searching my face as if deciding whether to believe me. After a long moment, she nodded slowly.
“Start by letting me in. Don’t push me away again.”
“I won’t.”
She finally turned, heading toward the bathroom.
I paused outside the door, my mind racing. The storm inside me hadn’t passed—but maybe, just maybe, it was time to let the rain wash away the past.
Back in the living room, Jide was silent, watching the exchange from a distance. When Bimpe reemerged, calmer, he stood and gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
I glanced at him, a silent thank you passing between us.
The laws of seduction
Episode 15
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
A week later, he showed up again.
This time, with flowers. Not red roses. I hated those.
These were lilies.
“I listened,” he said, handing them over. “White lilies. For peace.”
I smiled. “And for fresh starts.”
He nodded. “If you’ll have one with me.”
I stepped aside.
“Come in.”
He did.
No grand promises. No labels yet.
But we were building.
Not just a love story.
But a story of survival. Of power. Of a woman who finally knew her worth, and a man learning how to love her without fear.
And in that living room, with petals on the table and history behind us, I finally breathed again.
Not as a lover.
Not as a pawn.
But as a queen.
And this game?
It was mine now.
To be continued…
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The laws of seduction
Episode 14
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
We didn’t rush it.
There was no desperate fumbling. No wild declarations.
Just two people sitting on the edge of something deep, holding hands in the quiet.
He stayed the night.
Not in my bed, but on the couch.
We talked.
About regrets. About dreams. About the lines we’d both crossed.
And somewhere between midnight and morning, I realized something:
Love wasn’t about possession.
It was about presence.
And this time, Jide wasn’t running.
The law of seduction
Episode 13
By Obodozie Favour Chioma
It was raining when I saw him again. I hadn’t expected to. I didn’t plan it.
But there he was, standing outside my office building, drenched, unmoving.
I hesitated, then walked to him.
“Jide,” I said.
His eyes met mine. Still stormy. Still unreadable.
“You blocked me,” he said.
“I needed space.”
“I gave you that. Now I need answers.”
We stood in silence as the rain soaked through my coat and his shirt.
“I’m not who I was,” I finally said. “And you don’t owe me another chance. But if you still want the truth, come inside.”
Inside, wrapped in towels and tension, I told him everything.
Dapo.
The night.
The choice.
And how it wasn’t about either of them, but about finding the version of me that didn’t beg for crumbs of affection.
When I finished, Jide just stared. And then, softly:
“I was angry. But mostly, I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“That you’d finally see yourself the way I always did—and realize you never needed me at all.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I didn’t need you, Jide. But I still wanted you.”
Something shifted in his eyes.
And that’s when he kissed me.
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