Uncharted Journeys

Ten

A week passed with Mike’s condition unchanged, machines beeping steadily like a metronome. Despite reassurances from doctors, we clung to prayers and hope like lifelines, unwilling to let go. My brother’s routine was as predictable as the sunrise: work, hospital visit, depart after an hour. In contrast, I took a leave of absence, unable to imagine mornings anywhere but by Mike’s silent side.

Exhaustion from sleepless nights and uncomfortable chairs took its toll; my body and mind wore down like a river stone. My sole desire was to stay close to Mike, but my constant presence raised my brother’s suspicions, his gaze narrowing suspiciously. I needed refuge, a solution from the storm brewing inside. A nearby guesthouse offered sanctuary, its price and welcoming atmosphere a balm to my soul. I booked a room, a haven where I could escape the world outside and spend most of my day with Mike, praying and worshipping.

Compassionate nurses became my allies, helping me evade my brother’s suspicions.

I asked my brother why Mike’s friends hadn’t visited; Mike was cautious due to the accident’s mysterious nature. Uncertainty hung over us like a cloud, casting doubt on everything. Another Wednesday found me in the hospital ward, engaged in one-sided conversation with Mike, my words hanging like a prayer.

The door creaked open, likely a nurse or doctor, but my heart sank when I turned to see an elderly man entering with a younger man and woman, their resemblance to Mike unmistakable – they were his family.

In a stuttered greeting, I tried regaining composure, bending to retrieve my fallen phone, heart racing. The woman’s small smile was a beacon of kindness, and I trembled under their scrutiny like a leaf in wind. The elderly man’s gentle voice soothed, “It’s okay, you can stay.” I contemplated swift exit, but his firm yet kind gaze kept me rooted, like a tree in a storm.

As they gathered around Mike’s bedside, their soft murmurs flowed like a gentle stream, a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. The elderly man’s tender kiss on Mike’s forehead was a poignant moment, his eyes filled with deep sadness, like a well of sorrow. On the opposite side of the bed, the others stood, their faces etched with concern, resembling a painting of worry. The elderly man’s gaze fixed on me, and I felt like an open book, my thoughts laid bare.

“The doctor mentioned he’s improving, but I want to hear from you, since you’ve been here longer,” he inquired gently yet probing. Finding them surprisingly easy to talk to was a relief from the awkwardness with my brother, akin to a cool breeze on a sweltering day.

“I… I think he is,” I replied softly. “I can’t say for sure about his vitals, but I’ve noticed the swelling going down, and the scratches on his face and hands are less visible.”

Their presence in that moment was a welcome change, akin to a ray of sunshine breaking through clouds. I felt a strange connection with Mike’s family, something I hadn’t experienced with my own brother, like a missing puzzle piece falling into place. As we conversed, I realized they, too, were grappling with the uncertainty of Mike’s condition, their faces mirroring the worry and fear I felt. Yet, in our shared vulnerability, we found comfort and understanding, a bond forged in the fire of uncertainty.

Fear consumed me, preventing me from confiding in my brother about the tangled emotions I harbored for his best friend, Mike. Even talking to Lerato felt risky, afraid that any hint of my feelings might reach Unako’s ears. Yet, Lerato persisted in keeping me informed, as if I were oblivious to the unfolding events.

“How are you doing?” Lerato asked, her voice soft and gentle, like a summer breeze.

“I’m hanging in there,” I replied in a hushed tone, as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence.

The Petersons, my B&B companions, surprised me with an invitation to dinner, filling the air with the savory aroma of roasted chicken and freshly baked bread. My stomach rumbled with anticipation as we gathered around the table, chatting and laughing like old friends. The warm glow of candles cast a cozy ambiance, and I felt at ease, like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

As we passed plates of steaming vegetables and savory meat, Mr. Peterson asked, “So, what do you do?”

“I’m a psychologist,” I replied with pride, deciding not to conceal my profession as I did my writing under a pen name. The conversation flowed like a gentle stream, and we shared stories, our voices weaving a tapestry of connection.

That night, I drifted into a dream where Mike and I strolled along a tranquil beach, three children playing joyfully around us. The waves crashed against the shore, seagulls cried out, their sounds blending harmoniously. Hand in hand, we walked on warm sand, our love shining like a beacon. The dream was vivid, brimming with happiness, and upon waking, a profound sense of melancholy washed over me, like a cold mist on a winter’s day.


Unako’s Perspective

I watched as my sister continued to ignore me, her eyes avoiding mine as if I was a stranger. It hurt, knowing that she was shutting me out like this. I had always been there for her, supporting her and protecting her, but now it seemed like she was pushing me away. It felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

Memories of the conversation I overheard between her and Mike flooded my mind. I remembered finding Mike leaning against my wall, his eyes red and puffy, his face drawn in pain and despair. He looked like he had just had an argument with his partner, and the weight of it was still bearing down on him. When I asked him to leave, he hesitated, his eyes lingering on my sister’s closed door as if he was torn between staying and going. It was clear that he was leaving a piece of himself behind, and It filled me with a sense of unease.

As I watched her, I felt helpless, like I was losing my grip on the one person I thought I knew so well. I wanted to reach out, to talk to her, to make her see sense. But she was avoiding me, and I didn’t know how to bridge the gap between us. It felt like she was slipping away, and I was powerless to stop it.

Days passed, and the feeling of unease only grew. Then, the phone call came. My sister’s voice trembled as she told me about Mike’s accident and hospitalization. I was in shock, trying to process the news. But what really caught my attention was her reaction. She was clearly distraught, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she was so affected. Even my wife, Lerato, seemed to understand the state she was in as she consoled her.

Visiting Mike in the hospital, I noticed my sister’s frequent visits and the way the nurses and doctors referred to her as Mike’s girlfriend. I saw her sneaking into Mike’s room, thinking I wouldn’t notice. It was then that the pieces started falling into place. My sister, the one person I thought I knew so well, had been hiding her true feelings from me.

I felt a mix of emotions: shock, confusion, and a hint of betrayal. Why hadn’t she confided in me? And what did this mean for our relationship, for Mike and me, and for our friendship? I needed answers, and I knew I had to confront my sister once again. But this time, I was determined to break through her silence and understand the truth.

Since it became increasingly clear to me: I truly loved Mike, but waiting was no longer an option. Thoughts of Nathan inevitably surfaced, our once-solid relationship now feeling like a fading memory.

“Hey, Nathan, how are you doing?” I asked tentatively, my voice hesitant, like a gentle breeze.

“I’m good, just busy with work,” he replied, his tone distant, like a fading echo.

“Yeah, I understand,” I murmured softly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence.

Talking to Nathan stirred up a storm of emotions inside me—a battle between longing and love for Mike, and guilt and loyalty towards Nathan. It was bewildering how I had thought I was ready for Nathan, when my heart clearly belonged to someone else. The conflict raged on, leaving me feeling lost and uncertain, adrift like a ship without an anchor.

My heart remained heavy, burdened by the weight of unrequited love. Each moment spent with Mike felt like a precious gift, yet also a reminder of what could never be mine. The ache in my chest grew, a constant companion of the love I dared not speak.

As I prepared to head to the mall for a few necessities before returning to the hospital, my phone rang insistently, shrill and insistent. I hesitated, then answered, hoping for good news. Lerato’s voice burst through the line, excitement radiating like a warm embrace.

“Ivile, the hospital called! Mike is awake!”

My heart skipped a beat as a swirl of emotions churned inside me. Tears streamed down my face like a river as I managed a barely audible “Thank you, Lerato.” I swiftly ended the call and tossed my bag onto the couch, the zippers and rustling clothes sounding like a bird preparing for flight. With a newfound sense of determination, I checked out of the B&B in Fourways, considering a return to work since I had taken a leave of absence.

Later, as I entered my living room, the urge to go to the mall had dissipated. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my emotions slowly lifting, like a refreshing breeze on a summer day. Filling the room with music, I sang along to the upbeat tunes as I embarked on a thorough cleaning spree, since Theresa was still at work. The sweet scent of disinfectant and fresh air filled my senses, invigorating me like a breath of fresh air. I spring-cleaned every corner, from my bedroom to the kitchen, the soft rustle of dust and dirt disappearing like magic.

As I worked, my mind drifted to Mike, and a wave of relief washed over me. I was grateful he was awake and on the path to recovery. Lost in my thoughts, I cleaned until the room gleamed spotlessly. Stepping back, I admired my handiwork with a sense of pride and accomplishment, the joyful celebration music still playing in the background, filling the space with renewed vigor.

Settling in front of the television, my phone buzzed incessantly, each notification feeling like a jolt of cold water. Surprisingly, I found missed calls from my brother, his wife, my parents, and unfamiliar numbers. Contemplating whether to ignore them, I decided to text Nathan, my source of solace. "Hey, did you see my earlier text? I asked if you wanted to hang out," I inquired, my heart racing with anticipation.

"Hey there! Sorry, I've had a crazy day. I really miss seeing you; it's been too long," he replied warmly, his words comforting. "Well, my friend's condition is improving. Maybe we could plan to meet up, or you could come over to my place. I even cooked today," I suggested, trying to sound inviting.

The dreaded three dots appeared, and my heart sank as I awaited his response. "I wish I could, but I'm far away at the moment. Actually in Pretoria, and I'll be here for the next three months," his reply came, delivering a cold splash of reality that dashed my hopes. I felt like a lone traveler in an unfamiliar land.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. It was Theresa, her keys jingling like a comforting bell as she greeted me with a warm side hug. "Hey, you," she said, her presence a welcome relief.

"Hi," I replied, relief and exhaustion evident in my voice. Theresa's perceptive gaze met mine, searching for answers. "So, your guy finally wakes up from a coma, and you don't seem excited at all. What's going on?"

I shrugged, unsure how to convey the whirlwind of emotions inside me. Theresa's understanding encouraged me to open up, and we talked for hours, laughing and crying together, as the weight on my shoulders slowly lifted.

While Theresa freshened up, I curled into the corner of the couch, my mind still swirling with uncertainty, like a stormy sea without a calm horizon. The eerie silence was punctuated only by the occasional creak of the old wooden frame, as I sought distractions from my thoughts. Neither prayer nor tears felt quite right, like ill-fitting shoes.

I silenced the television, the sudden quiet a stark reminder of my solitude. Scrolling through my contacts, I desperately sought someone to alleviate my loneliness, like a shipwrecked sailor grasping for a lifeline. Calvin and Kelly's names appeared, but they seemed distant, like faded memories. My friends from the Eastern Cape, cherished yet miles away, felt like stars in a distant galaxy—too far to burden with my troubles.

Pamela's name caught my eye, but I hesitated, my finger hovering over her number like a hesitant bird. I knew she was likely exhausted, balancing the demands of a newborn and recovering from her recent C-section, like a warrior on multiple fronts. "Pamela's been through so much," I thought, "I can't add to her worries."

Continuing to scroll, searching for another name, another lifeline, my contacts blurred together, like a painting smudged by a wet brush. I felt adrift, a lost traveler seeking a guiding star but finding only darkness and uncertainty.

A welcome distraction came in the form of Candy Crush, its colorful graphics and soothing music momentarily whisking my thoughts away from my troubles. The sweet escape offered a brief respite from the turmoil brewing inside me.

Upon Theresa’s return from the bathroom, she noticed my preparations and stood up decisively, her movements like a general mobilizing troops. “When I come back, I want you up and ready because we are going to celebrate,” she declared with determination, leaving no room for argument.

As Theresa left, I pondered the impending plans and ventured to my room. The soft carpet beneath my feet felt like a gentle caress. Knowing Thursdays were designated as ladies’ nights, I had a hunch Theresa meant business. Opting for a knee-length dress that struck a balance between elegance and comfort, I added heels for a touch of sophistication, making sure I looked my best.

Theresa returned with infectious energy, sparking like a flame igniting. “I’ve called some friends; we’re heading to Monte Casino for drinks and fun,” she announced. Mention of Fourways and its proximity to the hospital reminded me of my situation, a distant siren blaring. I tried to maintain composure.

“Yeah, but you know I can’t do clubs, right?” I asked, my voice tinged with vulnerability. “Can we at least stay in the casino?” Theresa’s response brought a glimmer of hope. “Sure, we can hang out there. If they want to hit the clubs, I’ll stay with you and grab a glass of wine.”

The prospect of having her by my side and enjoying time outside lifted my spirits, offering a much-needed respite from my worries, like a lifeboat on a stormy sea.

The casino unexpectedly became a source of enjoyment, and a spontaneous urge overcame me. I couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but soon found myself with a glass of white wine in hand, sipping it thoughtfully while Theresa checked on her friends. The crisp, fruity aroma filled my senses, the cool liquid sliding down my throat, leaving a refreshing trail.

Her promise to return soon gave me a sense of freedom, and with a carefree spirit, I decided to explore the casino. The soft hum of slot machines and the chatter of patrons created a lively atmosphere, and I wandered around, curiosity piqued. Ordering another glass of wine from a waiter, I took a few sips, but an odd sensation washed over me. My mouth felt swollen, my tongue rubbery. A burning heat surged inside, accompanied by a strange hyperactivity.

Unable to finish the second glass, waves of nausea hit me. The scent of my own burp repulsed me, sending me rushing to the bathroom, desperate to purge. Vomiting brought little relief, a stark reminder of my reckless actions and their consequences.

Emerging from the bathroom, somewhat sobered, I opted for a glass of orange juice to regain composure. Its sweet, tangy flavor provided solace from the bitter wine taste. Attempting to reach Theresa, I called, but received no answer. Fearing the situation might worsen, I trusted my instincts and sought a cab outside.

The night had taken an unexpected turn, my primary concern now finding a safe place. Whether my newfound courage stemmed from alcohol or a deeper resolve remained unclear.

Standing in the dimly lit hospital hallway, I approached the nurse’s station, uneasy. The antiseptic smell and soft machine beeping heightened my anxiety. Heart racing, I inquired about Mike, desperate for any positive news.

“He’s sleeping soundly,” the nurse replied. Nodding, relief and frustration mingled in my eyes. “Thank you,” I managed before heading to Mike’s ward.

Entering the room, the soft creak of the door and hum of machines greeted me. Mike lay still, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, evoking a surge of emotions.

Approaching his bedside, I moved slowly, drawn by an unseen force. His rhythmic breathing filled me with a mix of emotions. Leaning down, I gently kissed his lips—a moment of boldness, a declaration, and a farewell in one. “This is goodbye for good,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the machines’ soft beeping.

As I turned to leave, his hand clasped onto my wrist, sending a shiver down my spine. “You can try to go, but make sure I don’t find you again,” he rasped, his voice rough yet filled with determination. I felt trapped, frozen in place, unable to move or speak as he pulled me closer, his touch firm yet strangely gentle.

Avoiding his gaze, I stared at the floor, struggling to find my voice. “I…I,” I stammered, but words failed me. It was as if he sensed my inner turmoil and took control of the moment. “Forget whatever you were going to say,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear, sending shivers through me. “Just know that I’ll always find you, no matter where you go.”

His words resonated with promise, threat, and a raw declaration of love, leaving me breathless and bewildered. “I didn’t mean to disrupt the moment, but I couldn’t resist responding to that kiss,” he confessed, his voice low and husky, adjusting his bed position with a press of a button.

The soft whir of machinery and gentle hum of monitors faded into the background as he shifted slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart raced wildly, struggling to maintain composure, my breath caught in my throat. “Please,” he pleaded softly, his words a gentle caress that stirred my soul.

His voice, the surge of emotions within me, and the magnetic pull between us were irresistible. My eyelids grew heavy, as if weighted by an invisible force, and an overwhelming urge to surrender to the moment washed over me. The hospital room faded away, leaving just the two of us entangled in unspoken emotions and untamed desires.

In that moment, a profound longing and connection enveloped me, our hearts seemingly beating in unison. The air crackled with tension, affirming that our love was undeniable, even against our will. Looking into his eyes, I glimpsed hope, redemption, and a love that could endure the darkest times.

Time seemed suspended as our lips met, the world around us dissolving into nothingness. After what felt like an eternity, we surfaced, gasping for breath like swimmers breaking free from deep waters. I settled into a chair, still dazed, my mind reeling from the intensity of our encounter.

Mike’s expression shifted, curiosity overcoming him. “So, where have you been? You look like you’ve been somewhere else,” he asked, his eyes a mix of curiosity and concern, hinting at his thoughts about my absence.

“Just a ladies’ night out,” I replied with a half-smile, hoping to dispel any misconceptions of a romantic liaison. “Definitely not a date,” I added, emphasizing that my feelings for him were unchanged. Mike chuckled, clearly amused by my response, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he watched me squirm.

“I heard someone couldn’t leave my side for nearly two weeks,” he teased, relishing the discomfort he caused. I felt a rush of embarrassment, mixed with frustration and defensiveness. “It’s getting late; maybe I should let you rest,” I suggested, reaching for my purse, ready to leave.

But Mike’s pleading look and gentle touch on my hand stopped me. “Please, don’t go,” he implored softly, his sincerity palpable. It was time to confront my feelings and stand up for myself.

“I’m tired of this, Mike,” I confessed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s too much for me, dealing with everything alone.” His expression changed, his gaze intense and searching, stirring my heart.

Then, unexpectedly, he uttered the words I never thought I’d hear: “I love you.” I was stunned, unsure how to respond. His eyes held mine firmly as he continued, “I’m not saying this now just because I’m here. I’ve expressed my love for you before, and you’ve never responded. I’ve given you time to think about it.”

“When?” I blurted out, the word escaping before I could think. Memories flooded my mind, searching for any sign of his affection.

Mike kept his gaze steady. “The day you shut yourself away, and your brother pleaded with me to give you time,” he recalled. The memory hit me hard, the pain of that moment still raw. I had hidden, unable to confront my feelings or face him. Tears welled in my eyes, emotions swirling within me.

“I… I…” I stammered, struggling to articulate my emotions. Mike’s expression softened, his patience and understanding unwavering. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything right now,” he reassured me gently. “But I think I understand how you feel about me. Otherwise, why would you tell the doctors you were my girlfriend?” His tone carried a hint of humor, and a genuine laugh escaped my lips, breaking the tension that had gripped us.

As we continued talking, the hospital room faded into the background. I barely noticed the beeping machines, the antiseptic smell, or the soft murmur of nurses in the hallway. All that mattered was the connection between us, the shared vulnerability and understanding in that moment.

The night unexpectedly turned pleasant, and I found myself enjoying Mike’s company. His jokes had me laughing, and at some point, I must have drifted off, only to be awakened by the hushed voices of nurses discussing a shift change.

With the first rays of dawn filtering through the hospital window, I sensed a shift between us. In those quiet hours, as we shared our fears and hopes, our relationship deepened. The vulnerability and honesty we shared formed a new bond, stronger than before. We weren’t just friends or former lovers anymore; we were two people who had seen each other at their most vulnerable and had chosen to stay.

In the fragile morning light, I felt a renewed purpose and an undeniable connection with Mike. Our past misunderstandings and emotional barriers started to crumble, replaced by mutual understanding and a shared vision for the future. This night had changed everything, and as I looked at Mike, I knew it was the start of a new chapter for both of us.

“Morning,” I greeted the nurses quietly, not wanting to disturb their shift transition. As they stepped outside with Mike’s chart, I realized it was already past six o’clock. It was time to make my exit. Mike’s charming smile caught my attention, and I returned it, but my determination to leave remained firm.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah,” I replied, “I need to make amends with Theresa. I ditched her last night, and I don’t want to leave things unresolved.” Part of it was true; I did need to apologize to Theresa. “But it’s only six o’clock; it’s still early,” Mike protested, clearly not ready for me to go. I offered an excuse, “Traffic on Malibongwe Drive can be a nightmare, and I don’t want to get stuck. I’ll come back later.”

As I headed for the door, Mike called out, “I think you’re forgetting something.” He placed a finger to his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I turned around, and he gestured for a proper kiss. His persistence left me with no choice, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his playful demand. I leaned in, feeling the softness of his lips and the gentle touch of his fingers on my chin. The scent of his cologne filled my senses as I planted a kiss on his cheek.

“There you go,” I said with a grin, feeling a flutter in my chest.

Mike wasn’t satisfied. “Nope,” he declared, his eyes dancing with amusement. “When you come back, I want a proper kiss. There’s no going back now.” His teasing tone made me laugh, and I finally made my exit, promising to return with the desired kiss. As I walked out of the hospital room, the antiseptic smell and beeping machines faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of Mike’s smile and the promise of our next encounter.

As I settled into the Uber, I couldn’t stop smiling, replaying the events of the night in my head. From leaving Theresa at Monte Casino to arriving at Life Hospital in Fourways in a matter of minutes, it had been a wild ride. I thought I’d find Mike asleep, but instead, I had an unexpected experience, spending the rest of the night lying next to him.

As I relived the moment he revealed his feelings for me, my heart skipped a beat. I remembered how I felt weak in the knees, unable to run away from the truth. The Uber driver’s voice broke into my thoughts, “We’re arriving at your destination.”

When I got home, I was surprised by Theresa’s understanding. I expected her to be upset, but instead, she was only concerned about my safety.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I ditched you,” I said as she opened the door.

“It’s okay, I was worried about you. Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes scanning my face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…I had an unexpected night,” I replied, still smiling.

“What happened?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“I went to see Mike, and…he told me how he feels,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Theresa’s expression softened. “And how do you feel?”

I took a deep breath, the words spilling out. “I feel like I can’t run away from this anymore. I have to face my feelings, and…I’m scared, but also excited.”

Theresa nodded, a gentle smile on her face. “You’re brave, and you’ll figure it out. Just be careful, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. “I will, thanks for understanding.”

The morning with Theresa was filled with animated updates about my previous night’s visit with Mike. While she had forgiven me for not informing her, she couldn’t resist making me feel a little guilty. To make amends, I decided to bribe her with a delicious breakfast and packed lunch. “Now you’re forgiven,” she said with a laugh, appreciating my culinary skills. We both chuckled, knowing that food was indeed my secret weapon.

As we enjoyed our meal, Theresa suggested, “Maybe you could take some of this to Mike. I’m sure he’s missing home-cooked meals.” Her idea struck a chord with me, and I contemplated the logistics of bringing homemade food to the hospital.

“I can’t right now, I’m going to work. Maybe I’ll go and see him later when everyone has left,” I replied, uncertain about the hospital’s regulations.

Theresa thought for a moment and then suggested, “Add more vegetables and protein so the nurses wouldn’t have an issue.”

With her advice, I decided to get a few things after work to make a pie to take with me during my next visit.

At work, I found myself buried under a mountain of patient files that needed my attention, as I hadn’t been in the office for a week. Missed sessions required rescheduling, and there was a lot to catch up on.

Entering Mike’s ward later that evening, I greeted him with a smile, placing the bag of food on the mini cupboard. His delighted expression conveyed just how welcome I was. I took a seat beside him, and he noted, “Late dinner.”

“Not late for me since I’ve been waiting for you to come,” I quipped, feeling his hand rest gently on mine. Then, out of the blue, he teased me, saying, “If you start forgetting now, how are you going to take care of our kids?”

My eyes widened in surprise; I couldn’t believe what he had just said. Mike simply laughed, as if it were the funniest joke in the world. “You made a promise this morning; don’t be so forgetful, or you’ll leave our child in a shopping cart while shopping, and I would never forgive you,” he added, his playful banter warming my heart. I felt a flutter in my chest, wondering if he was hinting at something more serious. Was he thinking about our future together? The thought sent a thrill through me, and I couldn’t help but smile.

The hospital’s fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead as I whiled away the long evening, surrounded by the hushed whispers of both life’s fragility and hope’s persistence. I couldn’t help but think about Mike’s comment, wondering what the future held for us.

As the clock ticked past eleven, I had promised not to leave Mike’s side since he was asleep from the medication. However, as the minutes turned into hours, he remained in a peaceful slumber, leaving me to wonder if my brother might drop by unexpectedly. Just when I began to grow impatient, a melodious ringtone pierced the air. I traced the sound to a phone hidden beneath Mike’s pillow and was surprised to see my brother calling. Quickly, I canceled the call, and just as I did, Mike stirred awake around eight.

“Hey,” I greeted him, his hand gently resting on mine, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I was thinking of leaving, but I didn’t want to do it while you were still asleep.” Rubbing his eyes, he asked, “What time is it?” I checked the clock and replied, “It’s past eight.” Concerned for my safety, he said, “Who’s picking you up? It’s not safe for you to be out this late.” I explained my hesitation, “Your phone rang, and it was my brother. I didn’t want him to find me here.”

Mike grabbed the phone and dialed my brother’s number, assuring him that it wasn’t a good time for a visit. His responses were curt, and I could hardly believe my ears. “Sure, see you tomorrow,” he concluded before hanging up. “I really should go now,” I insisted. Mike pondered for a moment, then relented, “I thought we talked about this. It’s not safe for you to take a cab this late. Let me arrange for someone to drive you home.” Resigned to staying the night, I agreed, “Okay, fine, I’ll sleep over, but I won’t make late visits a habit. My body can’t handle this kind of sleep, or I’ll end up with back problems.”

Mike was clearly pleased that I was staying and made an enticing offer, “You can sleep here,” he said, patting the bed. My initial hesitance was met with a determined shake of his head. “No, it’s not. We can both fit here,” he assured, his hands gesturing towards the entire bed. I replied, “I’m not sleepy yet. Maybe when I’m ready to sleep.” But he was having none of it. He pulled me up and began taking off my shoes, urging me, “Now. Get in.” Slightly unsure, I complied, and he positioned himself on his side. “You see, we fit perfectly,” he said with a mischievous smile that hinted at something more than just sharing a bed.

“You’ll be in pain. I don’t think sleeping like this is good for you,” I expressed my concerns.

Mike chuckled, “You worry too much. I’m fine, and if I’m in pain, the nurses will give me something. Now, sleep.” He kissed my head, and I couldn’t help but wish he’d fall asleep before me so I could say my prayers. We lay there, talking, and he expressed his curiosity about my life.

“You’d better tell that guy you were going out with that he must move on now. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Are you?” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything you said,” I replied, avoiding eye contact.

Mike grinned, “Well, you didn’t disagree either. So, I’m taking that as a yes.”

I laughed softly, the tension melting away as we settled into a comfortable silence. Despite my earlier concerns, lying next to him felt right, and I couldn’t deny the warmth that filled my heart. As the night wore on, we shared stories, laughed, and for the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.

Mike gently pulled my head to face him and kissed me passionately, leaving me breathless. His left arm held me in place, and after that intense kiss, he confessed, “I don’t need to say anything more because what I need is right here. But since you want to know, Ivile, I want to be with you. I’ve wasted so much time waiting for the right moment, but it seems there isn’t one. So, let’s make this the right time, my love.” My heart raced, and I was thankful to be in bed because my knees felt like they were losing their strength. His eyes locked onto mine as he continued, “I love you,” before pulling me into another passionate kiss.

As we lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I felt a sense of belonging and happiness that I had never experienced before. It was as if we were meant to be together, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for us. Mike’s confession had changed everything, and I knew that our relationship would never be the same again.

Lying uncomfortably beside Mike in the cramped hospital bed that night, a sudden revelation struck me. It was as though the world had conspired to teach me a valuable lesson. In that moment, I realized I had experienced true happiness, and it dawned on me that this could be my reality if I dared to confront life’s challenges head-on. With the pale hospital room as my backdrop, I resolved that I could no longer hide from my own emotions. Escaping from them was a strategy I could no longer afford. It was time to face my fears and uncertainties, one step at a time. I decided to surrender to the universe’s greater plan, allowing the will of God to guide me on this journey. It was a daunting but thrilling realization that I was embarking on a new chapter, one where I would follow the path of destiny and embrace the happiness I deserved.

I gingerly rose from the bed, taking extra care not to disturb Mike’s peaceful slumber. Settling back into the chair beside his bed, I rested my arms on the edge and buried my head in them. My mind was plagued with concerns, and the most pressing one was how to gracefully release Nathan from my life. Nathan had brought a sense of joy and companionship that I had been missing. It was clear he was eager to take our relationship to the next level. But breaking the news that I already had a boyfriend, while insisting we could only be friends, seemed unjust both to Nathan and Mike. I knew that even if I labeled my connection with Nathan as mere friendship, Mike would find it hard to accept, which only added to the complexity of the situation.

Dealing with this emotional tangle was something I dreaded. The last thing I wanted was to inflict pain on either Nathan or Mike. As I pondered a way forward, I came to a decision – I’d approach Mike and propose keeping our budding relationship discreet, far from prying eyes. I had no intention of involving anyone else in our business, including my brother and Mike’s family, whom I liked but wanted to shield from any false hopes. Our connection was still in its early stages, and neither of us knew where it was headed. It seemed like the most sensible way to navigate this complex situation without causing unnecessary turmoil.