“It’s not too late,” I said.
She looked at me.
“You really believe that?”
“I have to,” I said. “Because if I don’t, then what is the point of all this? The struggling? The waking up every morning? There has to be a reason. There has to be hope.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she reached across the table and touched my hand.
“You are a good man, Emmanuel,” she said. “I hope you know that.”
I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing.
The time slipped away like water through fingers.
We talked about everything and nothing. She told me about Idorenyin — how he had learned to ride a bicycle last month, how he had called her on her birthday and sung a song he had learned in school, how she kept his photograph under her pillow so she could see his face before she slept every night.
I told her about my childhood. About my father who worked too hard and died too young. About my mother who still called me every Sunday to ask when I was going to give her grandchildren.
“And what did you tell her?” Inemesit asked.
“I told her… soon,” I said. “But soon never comes.”
She didn’t say anything. She just nodded, as if she understood.
When the waiter brought the bill, I glanced at my phone.
3:47 P.M.
“Inemesit,” I said, “we should start heading back.”
She looked at the time and her eyes widened.
🔥💖OGA I WAN KNACK💖 – EPISODE TEN – A DIFFERENT KIND OF FIRE 💖🔥
