I Did Not Want To Fall For You

32: Why didn't you call?

That’s… good,” he chuckled.
“Good?”
“You just told me your ideal man.”
“So?”
“That’s good, very good,” he nodded, smiling to himself.
“Ok…” she drawled, staring at him suspiciously.
Her ideal man. That was what she had always imagined. Marriage was a big thing for her and she didn’t
want to jump into it with just anybody so it annoyed her when she heard stories about contract
marriages or parents forcing their children into marriages for business purposes. She detested it. It was
because they had the option of divorce. If divorce wasn’t an option, perhaps people would think thrice
before vowing. She didn’t like divorce and it wasn’t even an option for her because she was a Catholic.
“So…” he started, looking nervously at her, “you are not thinking anything into what I did?”
“What you did?”
“Looking at your… lips?”
She stared at him.
“You are not thinking anything extravagant?”
“Depends on your understanding of extravagant,” she teased. She knew what he meant but she didn’t
want to give him that satisfaction.
“Kamsi…” he sighed.
“I don’t know,” she defended, “my thoughts are for me to know and for you to wonder.”
He stared warily at her.
“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “you’re safe.”
“Good,” he nodded satisfactorily and looked her dead in the eye, “because we’re starting small.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you sent me a text?” Kaito demanded, frowning at her. Kamsi shrugged,
muttering a Physics formula silently to learn it. Kaito sighed, sitting next to her on the refectory bench.
The refectory was scanty as usual during night preps since they weren’t supposed to be there but in
their respective classes.
“Don’t you have a class to supervise?” She questioned. All the prefects were assigned classes to
supervise during night preps.
“I have a sick person to attend to,” he replied, opening a notebook.
“Sick person?”
“Nonso. He’s coming.”
“What’s wrong?” She asked worriedly.
“Nothing. That was our excuse.”
She hissed, “incompetent boys.”
“I actually have to monitor him,” he defended, “he has to take his drugs by 8:30 and Nonso being Nonso,
he’ll forget. I feel like his mother,” he sighed and she laughed.
“Good for you,” she mocked teasingly, “What else does he forget to do?”
“To sleep,” he cried, “he’s always on his phone or reading or gisting and he’s always stressing himself
out. He’s still weak, it has not been up to two weeks since the accident yet he’s behaving like it never
happened. Plus I have to massage his bad foot every night and it’s always a struggle because he doesn’t
like the pain and he’s always complaining of headaches and that he sometimes feels dizzy. Why won’t
he feel weak when he’s always jumping about? I just feel like caging him and locking him up so that…”
“Kaito,” she laughed, placing a hand over his mouth. He huffed, almost childishly, and rolled his eyes in
annoyance then he smiled, gently removing her hand.
“You’ve been calling my name a lot recently,” he commented and she rolled her eyes.
“I’ll help. Shebi, Nonso is coming?”
“Yup.”
“I’ll help to massage his leg,” she offered, “I’ll even enjoy his pain.”
“Just be careful so he won’t kick you in the face,” he chuckled.
“He wouldn’t dare,” she said confidently.
“You didn’t answer my question. You could have told me that you sent a text,” he complained.
“Told you when?” She asked, her eyes fixed on her Physics note.
“Yesterday.”
“What’s the difference between yesterday and today?”
“So you missed me?”
“What?”
“You said we were missed… a lot. Did you miss me?” he asked. He had a proud smirk on his face and she
wanted badly to wipe it off.
“I...” she paused. She didn’t want to lie and she didn’t want to tell him the truth either. The truth was
that she had missed a lot and that she had cried because of him, because of how weak and empty she
felt worrying about him, “I felt your absence.”
His smirk dropped then picked up again. “Same thing as you missing me. Just say it, it won’t kill you,” he
coaxed.
“I felt your absence,” she repeated and he rolled his eyes. They stayed silent for a few seconds and she
was about to apologize for not calling when he spoke.
“Well, I missed you,” he admitted softly. She looked at him, eyes wide. She had not expected him to be
honest.
“I missed you,” he repeated, smiling at her, “see, it’s not that hard. Say what you feel.”
She looked away, “how are you so sure I missed you?”
“I can feel it.”
She raised a brow and focused on her note.
“Why didn’t you call?” he asked suddenly.
She sighed and sat up. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Not an answer.”
“I… just… I’m sorry for not calling.”
He said nothing so she looked at him. He was staring down at the table. He didn’t look angry but she
didn’t like the hard look on his face.
“It was just for three days!” She exclaimed, “Why are you angry? It’s my choice!”
“That’s why you don’t like promises, huh?” He raised his head and gazed at her with a look that spelt
disappointment, “cause you break them.”
“I didn’t promise,” she snapped, getting angry.
“You gave me your word, same thing as making a promise. You shouldn’t deceive yourself,” he retorted
calmly. It annoyed her because she was the only one giving a reaction.
“And how is it your business?”
“You did wrong. Own up to it and stop skirting around.”
“I apologized, what else do you want?” She countered angrily, “what’s the big deal about calling? It was
just for three days and when I heard about the accident on Monday, I called. You didn’t pick up, you
even switched off your phone! Then, I sent the text. How was I supposed to know that something bad
was going to happen?”
“Friends keep contact and communicate regularly with or without accidents. That’s the way to show you
care about them and that’s how the foundation is built,” he replied her. He still looked blank and still
talked calm. It only fueled her anger. What stupid foundation!
“Because I told you about my marriage del, o kwa ya? I make my own choices. You can take your stupid
foundation and go to hell!” She barked and roughly grabbed her books but he hld her hands, stopping
her from leaving.
“Why are you angry?” He asked, gently, taking the books from her, “you’re only proving I’m right.”
She tried to leave again but he held her back for the second time.
“You promised to help massage Nonso’s leg,” he reminded her, “You can’t break another promise.”
She slammed her hand on the table, “I don’t break promises!”. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest
and tears pricked her eyes, familiar signs of an incoming breakdown.
“Then prove it,” he said, watching her, “and take a deep breath and tell me why you are crying.”
She swiped at the tears angrily. She felt stupid. She tried to leave and he stopped her again. She didn’t
want to cry, especially not in front of him.
“Nonso is coming. Do you want to tell him why you are crying?” he said and released her hands,
knowing she wouldn’t move. She dried her face, furious both at herself and at him.
“Tochukwu, you wicked beast, you left me alone. Kamsiyonna!” Nonso;s cheery voice cut through the
tense air.