I couldn’t face him alone. That was why I told Zioh I had plans with Andi—a lie, of course. What I needed from my best friend this morning was his support in facing Tsabinu.
I’d been here for several minutes, standing outside Andi’s apartment, but there was still no response.
Was he alright?
When the bell didn’t work, I began banging on the door. “Andi!” I called, raising my voice but keeping it at a half-whisper, afraid of disturbing the neighbors. “Ndi!” I repeated.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the door pin clicked as it was pressed. Relief rushed through me as the door opened, and I was ready to unleash a tirade, but the words died in my throat.
“Are you hibernating, or—”
My sentence cut off when the person who came out of the door wasn’t Andi. In fact, it wasn’t a man at all.
It was a woman.
A tall, stunning woman who left me too stunned to speak.
The woman was breathtaking. Tall, with damp hair wrapped in a towel atop her head, her skin was porcelain-pale, her nose defined, and her eyes gleamed as though they held their own light. It was dazzling when she smiled at me—awkward yet radiant, dimples surfacing, and her eyes mirroring the smile.
Absolutely gorgeous.
My awe instantly soured into a wave of embarrassment.
Crap.Damn you, Andi.
All the scenarios spinning in my head sent heat to my cheeks, and I forced a crooked smile. Poor girl. A woman this divine surely didn’t belong with a weirdo like Andi. Just a week ago, I saw his pics partying and dancing with foreign girls at some club. And now this? He had a girlfriend, or maybe a fwb, this stunning?
Typical shameless asshole.
The woman tightened the belt of her bathrobe. Brilliant. I’d interrupted her at the worst possible time.
“Ex–excuse me… May I help you?” she asked, her accent betraying that she wasn’t used to speaking the language here, or perhaps the accent just felt awkward.
“Ah, sorry,” I stammered, shaking my head and lifting my gaze to her. Was she a model? She was so tall and slim. “I’m looking for my friend… Andi.”
Her smile softened. “Ah… Andi’s friend?” Her delicate tone reminded me of Tsabinu’s gentle way of speaking. She pointed at me, and I nodded, flashing a sheepish grin.
“Yes… I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” I muttered, guilt curling in my chest. I couldn’t help noticing her damp frame, and I shifted in a small motion.
Curse every ounce of this shame. It felt as though she could read the awkward mess of my thoughts; she studied me, then let out a graceful little laugh. “Ah, no… Allow me to introduce myself.” She extended her hand. “I’m his Ce—” She shook her head, then tried again with a gentler voice. Her tone was soothing, the sort of voice that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. “I’m Andi’s sister. My name is Ladie Yang.”
And damn my filthy imagination to the pits.
My cheeks blazed hotter, mortification spreading through me. Hurriedly, I clasped her hand, caught between shock and shame, and I forced a wobbly smile. “S-sorry… Ci—” I stammered, fumbling for the right honorific. “Mbak… Mrs—”
Huh…
Communication Studies, my ass.
Ladie laughed again. “Just call me Ladie,” she offered.
I forced myself to keep smiling when a knot tightenedin my chest.
First, I had no idea Andi even had a sister. He was always so private, never even inviting us over to his house. Since middle school, I’d probably visited his house fewer than ten times, and it was only because we had to work on our assignment there, where there were animals or objects we could use for it. And his place had been eerily quiet; he’d always claimed his parents were too busy.
Second, I’d never once seen a photo of this stunning woman. Not on the walls, not on the shelves. Nothing.
Third, it was only after we’d started working that he invited me over more often, once he’d moved into this apartment to live independently.
