Binary Hearts

11| Unspoken Words 😊

Tunde glanced at Adaora as they settled into the living room. "Is this how you always work overtime? And where’s your car?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

Adaora sighed, a tired smile playing on her lips. "No, it's not a usual thing. Tonight was an exception. My car is locked outside the company. Chidi Okoye gave me a ride home."

A long silence hung between them. Tunde finally broke it. "I didn’t know you’ve become so important to him."

"You're jealous, aren’t you?" Adaora teased, though her eyes searched his for a deeper reaction.

"It was just a sign of appreciation. I did well on the project they assigned us that's why," she added.

Tunde let out a contemplative "hmmm." "Trust me. Chidi Okoye isn’t someone to... well, let's leave that," she said, waving off the topic with a flick of her wrist.

"So, tell me... how did you do so well?" Tunde asked, shifting the focus back to her.

They talked for a while, Adaora explaining the intricacies of her design and the hard work she put into it and how he was a source of her inspiration. Tunde listened intently, occasionally interjecting with questions and comments that showed how much he admired her dedication and talent.

As the night grew older, Adaora noticed the time. "It's really late. We should go to sleep," she suggested.

"Yeah, you're right," Tunde agreed. They tidied up the living room, exchanged goodnights, and retreated to their separate rooms.

A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded on Adaora's door. "Come in," she called, puzzled.

Tunde entered, his face a mask of uncertainty. "Why are you here?" she asked curiously.

Without a word, Tunde walked over to her bed and lay flat beside her. Adaora felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. "What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I was a bit scared. I remembered when my mother died," Tunde admitted, his voice cracking slightly.

Adaora's heart ached for him. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his hands. "I'm so sorry, Tunde," she said softly.

"You know... I had a plan for you today, that’s why I'm still on the island," he confessed.

Adaora looked into his eyes, her curiosity piqued. "What plan?"

For a moment, Tunde seemed lost, mesmerized by her beauty and the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. He cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts. "I decided to take you somewhere. When we get there, you’ll know."

"Can we go tomorrow before you head to the company?" He asked, his eyes filled with anticipation.

"Alright, no problem. I’m still wondering what and where it could be," Ada said, a small smile playing on her lips.

They bid each other goodnight, their bodies close but not touching. Tunde pretended to sleep, but his mind was racing. He found himself staring at Adaora's face, admiring the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the soft curves of her features illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the window.

Little did he know, Adaora was also wide awake, acutely aware of his stares. She felt a strange comfort in his closeness, a sense of safety she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Tunde's voice broke the silence, barely more than a whisper. "There's something about you that changed my life. I don't know what it is, but it feels like you’ve given me confidence and taken away my sorrows. I felt a connection the moment I set my eyes on you. I don’t know if it’s love because I don’t know what love is, but this feeling I have... I only felt it when I still had my mom. I'm glad I met you, and I'm ready to protect you."

As Tunde spoke, tears began to roll down his face, his vulnerability exposed in the moonlit room. Adaora, hearing every heartfelt word, felt a surge of emotion. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, to hold him close, but she kept her eyes shut, pretending to sleep.

When Tunde’s tears fell onto her cheeks, she felt an overwhelming urge to hug him, to assure him he wasn’t alone. Yet, she remained still, her heart aching for him, caught between the need to comfort him and maintaining the facade of sleep.