Love and Romance StoriesNaija Stories

The Party

At the party, I got uneasy and decided to go outside for some air. The noise was just too much and I wasn’t totally in my right mind. Moving through the crowd was a very hard task; no one noticed me, like I did not exist. Everyone was drowned in the music and dance going on, and I had barely smuggled myself out when a hand squeezed my buttocks. I stopped and looked back, the house was semi-dark and faces weren’t clear. I was loosing it.

“Thunder fire you,” I muttered under my breath to whoever it was that did that and left the party room.

Stepping out, I was greeted by a very soothing breeze, the kind that makes you feel like all your worries have been washed away.

My friends brought me to this party to help me get over my breakup with Kelvin. I’d been in a relationship with Kelvin for over five years and I was already seeing a marriage with him; until I found out that he had been cheating on me, and even had a son with the lady. That was the height of it and I couldn’t take it. So I ended the relationship.

But it wasn’t easy for me. My history with Kelvin was so strong that I was scared that I couldn’t live without him. For days I locked myself in my room crying, and at a point my friends had to break down the door because they feared I might do something bad to myself. I really would have.

That night and despite my pleas, they dragged me to the party, hoping it would help brighten my mood but it made it worse. I was not comfortable at all. I need a break, a break from all these, a break from life itself.

***

I stopped and listened again. Yes I was sure it wasn’t my head playing the music to me. Someone was actually playing a flute beside the house. Slowly I walked towards the corner of the house and saw him. He was so engrossed in his flute that he didn’t even see me standing there. I stood watching him play; somehow the melodious tunes of his flute gave my soul this resounding feeling that everything would be all right soon.

The young man was probably in his late twenties, he was fair and not very tall. Oh damn—I had a thing for tall guys. Kelvin was tall! Oh Kelvin… I got sad again. Why did I even remember him now?

I made to turn and the music stopped.

“Hey.” I froze. “Hello,” he called out again and came to face me.

“Hi.” I was smiling at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ehm… I came to the party. Just came out here to… ehm… ehm—”

“Get away?”

I didn’t respond. He was right.

“Valerian.” He offered a handshake.

“I’m Chioma.” I shook his hand.

“So Chioma… why not join me here? I have enough space for two.”

I smiled, hesitated for a while, then walked back to the pavement where he was sitting earlier. We sat down. Then silence, awkward silence.

“So tell me, who is this Chioma?”

“Ehm… me?”

“Yes, I know it’s you. Tell me about you.”

My head was blank. What exactly do I tell him? Is there anything about me that I could share with him?

“Well… I am just—me”

He smiled and kept staring at me.

“What?!” I was getting uncomfortable.

“What?”

“What are you staring at?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Our eyes were locked on each other’s. His face came closer, and closer, and closer. I didn’t move, my heart was beating faster this time. I was confused.

He kissed me.

The kiss was gentle and lovely, it was reassuring and comforting. He didn’t need to say any words to me. The kiss was doing the talking. The kiss told me that everything would be okay with him. I closed my eyes and allowed the kiss take over me.

***

The next morning, I got a text.

“Hi Chioma, please send me a picture of you smiling. I want to stare at it all day.”

I smiled and clicked on my favourite photo. Whatever this was, I hope it doesn’t die soon.

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