My mom passed when I was about ten and she seemed happy, despite everything, but there’s no way that Dad could have been a healthy partner when his very being didn’t allow him to be present. I will not be making that mistake. Maybe that’s why Dad gave me the power when I was single. Maybe he thought I’d fall in love with being Saturn, the way he did after Mom passed, and I wouldn’t find the time to fall in love with anything else.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. One thing is clear, I can’t bring Moyo into this complicated situation.
“Niyi,” Merc says, redirecting me back to our conversation, “do you still want me to find the Jakandes and see if there’s anyone willing to take the mantle?”
With the freedom to live a normal life on my mind, I answer, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Date #3
THE DOORBELL RINGS, AND FOR ONCE, I WELCOME THEsound.
I look in the mirror, fluffing my curls and applying one last coat of gloss before opening the door. Niyi’s there, smile wider than ever. The black sweater he has on contrasts with my white sweater dress.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey.”
I lock my door, then step closer to him. His fingers immediately find mine, and we fit like a glove. The spark from all the earlier times we’ve touched is present, and this time, I get to appreciate the current.
“So, where are we going?” I ask, noticing his car isn’t here.
“Wine tasting, except it’s my personal collection.” He pauses to assess my reaction. “Thought going to my place would give us privacy, and the space to talk after.”
“You’re inviting me over?”
“If you’d do me the honor.”
“Let’s see how you live,” I say.
He laughs. “Why do I feel like I’m about to get judged?”
“Lean into it, you’ll survive. Maybe.”
“I’m at your mercy, Sunshine.” He squeezes my hand. I squeeze back, fighting the urge to kiss him on our walk. And from the gleam in his eyes, I imagine he’s thinking the same thing.
I pause when my favorite house in the neighborhood catches my eye. The light green roof and complementary mint walls with stone veneer siding at the bottom look as stunning as usual.
“You like that house?” Niyi asks.
“Gorgeous roof, well-kept lawn, what’s not to love?” I respond and then notice the amusement on his face.
“What?” I ask.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “Ready to see the inside?”
My jaw drops. The longer I’m in his presence, the more things I discover, but this takes the cake. There’s no way Niyi owns my dream house.
If all his surprises are this good, I might have to deviate from my plans more often. If I’d stuck with my perfectionist ways, I never would have met Niyi. Funny how life works.
“You’re joking?”
“I’d never.” He leads us up the steps. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
The black leather couch catches my eye first. Then I’m drawn to all the ceramic details littered around the living room. A white-and-green striped jewelry bowl sits on the coffee table, along with a thin, dark-green cylinder vase and a few white-and-gray marbled coasters.
“How’d I do?” Niyi asks, recapturing my attention.
I take my eyes from the beautiful details to his stunning face. “Better than I expected. Not perfect,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes, “but decent.”
