Can we try again?

Eleven.

It was Buchi. His hands were in his pocket, and there was a smile on his face. He looked quite pleased to see me, but I could see that at the same time, he was a little bit taken aback by my appearance. I instantly knew it was my red, bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying.

For some reason, I was kind of glad it wasn't someone else, that it was Buchi standing in front of me in my wild appearance, because I knew that he'd already seen me at my worse.

"Hi," he said, still grinning.

"Hello," I replied, surprise still showing on my face at his unexpected appearance.

"I hope you don't mind me showing up like this, but I just came to see how you're coping."

"How very thoughtful of you." I said.

"So, how are you?" he asked me, already knowing what my answer would be.

I pursed my lips and didn't say anything.

"Still having troubles eh?" he said, eyeing my tummy.

I nodded. "Come on inside,"I motioned for him to come in. I don't know why I did that. I normally would not invite a stranger into our apartment, but there was something about Buchi which made him very trusting.

He took of his shoes by the door and followed me in. "Very nice place," he commented, looking around.

"Thanks. Please sit down."

I observed him discreetly. He was wearing a polo shirt on a faded blue skinny jean, which revealed his strongly built body. He had a somewhat babyish face, which made it difficult to guess how old he was. But I reckoned he was in his twenties, maybe mid or late. I found myself noticing features I didn't notice the first time I saw him; like his wide, flared nostrils and his full lips and the dimples on his right cheek.

What the hell was I doing?

"Would you like anything to eat or drink?" I offered, tearing my gaze away from him before he thinks I am a weirdo.

"No. Thank you though." He looked at me for some seconds and then he said. "How have you been doing all these while? You know after that day, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

He said the words so softly that it made my stomach flip and somehow, my heart beat increased. What was he was doing? What was he playing at?

"I could have called you to be honest, but I don't think I saved your number."

I swallowed. I was feeling things in my stomach now.

"Well, nothing's changed." I managed to say. "I'm still, you know . . ."

He nodded. "And you're not happy about it." He said it more like a statement than a question.

"Of course I'm not. It was unplanned for. I don't think anyone in my shoes would be."

"But there's nothing you can do, right? You just have to keep on going."

I huffed. "Sounds easy to say. I'm going back home tomorrow and I have no idea what I'm going to do. What I know is my parents will kill me."

"You can't be that certain." He said. "They will be upset at first, but I'm sure they'll soon begin to enjoy the notion of becoming a grandparent. Are you the first child?"

"The first daughter." I replied.

"Any children from your sibling?"

"No. I don't think that one even likes children."

"So, you see," the smile on his face was very reassuring. "They might not be as furious as you think they'll be."

"Well . . . " I started to say. "I dunno really know . . . But they would definitely not be happy if they hear I don't know who the father is."

"They don't have to know that, do they?"

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to explain.

"See," he sat forward. I couldn't stop looking at the hand gestures he made whilst he spoke. I wistfully wondered what it would feel like holding them.  "Just tell them that he has travelled abroad for . . . I dunno . . . for studies and that he'll be back. Tell them you have seen his parents and they know about it too."

"And?"

"And when he gets back you both will make plans to settle down. That would appease them a little bit, don't you think so?"

"But . . . what if he doesn't show up in the end, because he won't show up, obviously, he doesn't even know he's a father."

"One problem at a time, okay? When we get to that bridge we'll cross over it. Let's worry about that later."

There was something touching about the way he said 'we'. It made it feel as though he genuinely cared and it was like him saying we are in this together which made my insides feel warm.

I opened my mouth to say something else, but closed it again. It seemed like a pretty good idea. There would still be some sort of hurt in my parent, but it wouldn't be as much as if I told them I don't know the father of the baby. That would make me sound like a whore. At least, if I say he's my boyfriend, and he's studying at the moment in England but will be back, that's more reassuring; promising.

A grin gradually formed on my lips. I realized then, that the knot in my stomach caused by the anxiety of going back home had loosened a bit. Thanks to the gentleman in my living room.

"That . . . that doesn't sound like a bad idea," I told him.

"I know. I'm a genius abi."

I laughed. "Indeed."

I noticed him looking around to the bedroom door, his eyes searching around like he was trying to find something. He also looked pensive, like he wanted to ask me something, but didn't know how to.

And for some weird reason, I was anxious too, wondering what was on his mind. Was it what I thought it was? I was going to ask him when he opened his mouth to say, "Where's your friend, Oma, Is she home?"

Why was he asking for Oma? How did he even know I had a friend called Oma? It was then I recalled the afternoon he met her when he came back to give me my phone.

All of a sudden, it hit me.

The way he smiled at her that day, like a dog drooling over a piece of steak.

Buchi wasn't here for me. All the crap about wanting to see how I was coping was just a lie. He was here because he actually wanted to see Oma. He was using me as an excuse to do so. How stupid and gullible I've been, thinking he was actually interested in me. The realization made my stomach sink in disappointment and at the same time, bubble with anger. I felt like an idiot.  I wanted, at that point, to reach out and slap him for coming onto me like he really cared when all he wanted was to get to Oma.

But I had to act like a civilized human-being.

"She's out."  My reply was very sharp.

"Oh. Where to?" he asked

Really? He had the guts to ask where she's gone to.

"Why do you want to know?" I retorted, anger audible in my tone.

Buchi was visibly taken aback by my reaction. "Eh, nothing I . . . just wanted to know, that's all." He looked at me cautiously, wondering why there was a swift change in my attitude.

I shouldn't have snapped like that. Really, it was uncalled for. I, all of a sudden was filled with remorse. I liked Buchi, but to be honest, I didn't see any future between the two of us. Not in my situation. Not with a second-hand product like me. And if by any chance he has taken any interest in my friend, I should definitely not act in this way.

The anger boiling inside me, stifled down and calmly, I said, "I'm sure she'll be back soon."

Just as soon as I said that, the door swung wide open. "Girl you would not believe who I . . ." Oma's voice trailed away as she saw Buchi sitting in the living room. He had his sexy smile on. Her eyes flickered to me, then him and finally rested on me.

Thanks for reading everyone. And yes, please, keep the votes coming. Also comment too.