Page 264 of Invisible Bars
I felt a rush of uncertainty and stammered, “Um…”
“If it’s okay!” she rushed. “I understand if it’s not! I realize this is a big request, and it’s not something you can just answer in a heartbeat. It’s just… I feel like you represent a part of my life that has been missing for so long. I'd like to understand you better… to see the way you live your daily life. Honestly, the thought of going back to Nigeria fills me with dread.”
I hesitated, my heart fluttering with conflicting emotions.
“I’m not saying no, but… I need to t-talk to my husband first,” I finally said, trying to mask my own trepidation.
She nodded solemnly. "Of course. I’m not trying to force anything."
“I’ll let you know before you leave,” I assured, then stood. “As for now, let’s g-get out of this heat and find something to eat. I know a spot that won’t burn our backs while we chew."
Chiamaka perked up immediately. “Good… because I’m starving! All I had this morning was some hotel fruit that tasted like it missed its calling as a paper towel.”
After dinner, Imanio and I retreated to the living room. I wore his shirt and nothing else, curled into him on the sofa like a comma. He was engrossed in his phone, eyes scrolling through a stream of notifications, while his left hand rested gently on my hip. The TV played softly in the background, an engaging docuseries that neither of us was truly watching but provided a low hum of distraction.
“I talked to my sister,” I announced.
He lifted his gaze from the screen and gave me his full attention, intrigued.
“Oh, yeah? How did that go?”
“She’s sweet, funny, smart… and endlessly curious,” I replied, a smile creeping onto my face at the thought of her. “Oh, and a little too eager to lose her virginity to the hotel bellhop, but not r-reckless. She said he got a dimple and gave her a free bottled water.” I shrugged, laughing.
Imanio snorted. “A dimple and a Dasani? Damn. That’s the starter pack for danger these days?”
I burst out laughing, the joyous sound filling the cozy room, but just as quickly, a tic slipped out, catching me off guard.
“Free water for the womb!” I yelped, my eyes widening in shock as I pressed my hands to my mouth.
He threw his head back against the couch, laughter spilling from him.
“Nah, free water for the womb is wild,” he managed between breaths.
“I hate you!” I muttered playfully, burying my face against his chest.
"You love me,” he replied casually. “And I love when yo’ brain gets creative under pressure.”
I mumbled into his shirt, “Y-you better, ‘cause it’s not going anywhere.”
Imanio tilted my chin so I had to look at him.
“Real shit… I do love you, Naji.”
The words hit me like an unexpected gust of wind, knocking the air right out of me.
My body jerked, and before I could catch it, I shouted,“Love me down with a spatula! Oh my God,” I groaned, mortified, covering my face with both hands. “Did I really just say?—”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you did.”
“I was surprised! My t-tics don’t do well with confessions!” I protested, still attempting to hide my flushed face.
Imanio gently pulled my hands away.
“Well, get used to hearing it… ‘cause I meant it.”
“I l-love you too,” I whispered, softer than I intended.
Crazy thing is… we hadn’t even known each other two full months. But love isn’t measured in hours or weeks; it’s measured in moments and how someone makes your spirit settle when the world wants to spin you apart. And with Imanio, it felt like my heart had finally found its home.
