Chapter 22 #3
Za : Are you okay?
Za : Please just come home.
The guilt comes back in full force.
I unlock the door and step into the flat. It’s quiet. No TV. No musical music. No kitchen noises. That alone tells me she’s been worried.
I shut the door softly.
“Hey,” I call out.
Then I hear movement from the living room.
Za appears in the hallway, bonnet on, robe tied properly this time, eyes puffy like she’s been trying not to cry and failing at it.
She stops when she sees me. Her expression shifts between relief and annoyance, like she’s fighting the urge to cuss me out and hug me at the same time.
“Hi,” she says, voice small.
I stand there awkwardly for half a second because suddenly I don’t know where to put my hands.
I feel twelve years old.
“I called,” Za says.
“I know,” I reply. “I came home so we could talk face to face.”
She nods once.
“I’m sorry,” I add quickly, because if I don’t say it now I might not at all. “About me being distant. I’m sorry.”
Za’s brows knit. “Frankie…”
“I’ve been moving weird. Ignoring you. Leaving you in the dark. It wasn’t fair.I just been—”
She closes the distance in two steps and wraps her arms around me.
It’s sudden and tight and it almost breaks me.
I stand stiff for a moment, shocked by how much I needed it. Then my arms come up around her and I hug her back, just as tight. My throat burns.
“No, no,” Za murmurs into my shoulder. “I get it.”
I pull back slightly. “You do?”
She nods, sniffing. “I didn’t have your back after the awards.”
I freeze. Za steps back fully now, arms still half around me, looking up at my face.
“I was trying to do the ‘grace’ thing and be the bigger person cause I didn’t want to make you feel worse about not winning. But I ended up making you feel alone.” Za wipes under her eye with the sleeve of her robe. “I’m so sorry, Cici.”
“I’m sorry too, Zee.”
“It’s okay.” Za takes a breath then reaches for my hand. “You scared me.”
“I know.”
“No,” she says, squeezing my hand. “Like properly. You didn’t come home. You didn’t answer my calls. Your location was off. Where were you?”
“I stayed with a…friend.” I half lied.
Za eyes me. I swallow. We stand there for a second, holding hands.
Za wipes her face again, then takes a shaky breath. “I don’t care what you do or who you date,” she says suddenly.
I go still. She continues, steadying herself. “I don’t care who you sleep with. Even if they’re just “friends”. I just… I need you to be safe.”
My heart thuds.
Za tilts her head. “Do you hear me?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah. I hear you.”
She squints at me like she can sense something in my face. Like she can feel the unsaid.
I hold my expression still. Neutral.
CEO mode. Friend mode? Anything fucking mode that isn’t confession mode.
“I won’t disappear anymore,” I promise. It comes out more emotional than I mean it to.
Za’s eyes soften. “Okay.”
I swallow. “And I’m sorry again.”
Za pulls me into another hug, slower this time. “It’s alright. I’m sorry too.”
I hug her back, eyes squeezed shut. Part of me wants to tell her everything. Right now. While she’s holding me. While she’s being soft. While she’s saying she’ll accept whoever I’m with...
But the other part of me can already see her face when she realises who.
And I can’t do that to her tonight. So I stay quiet. I breathe her in. I let her love me.
Za pulls back first, wiping her nose with the back of her hand again like she’s annoyed at herself for crying.
“Come,” she says, tugging my hand. “Sit with me.”
We go to the couch. She drops down, and I sink beside her. The flat feels warmer now, not because anything’s changed, but because we’re speaking again.
Za nudges my shoulder. “You hungry?”
“No.”
“Liar,” Za huffs like she knew it. “I’ll make something.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” she says firmly, then pauses. “Also… I’m trying to learn how to be a better friend. Like you.”
Christ.
I glance at her. “Za, you’re already too good.”
She rolls her eyes before disappearing into the kitchen. “Let me compliment you without you fighting it.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I check it:
Big Man Bari: u 2 good?
I sent back a thumbs up before Za came back from the kitchen with two mugs, set them down on the coffee table, then sit beside me again. She doesn’t drink straight away.
“I talked to Jabari,” she says.
My shoulders tense before I can stop them.
“Oh?” I keep my voice neutral. Casual. Like my pulse hasn’t just jumped.
“Yeah.” She glances at me. “I called him earlier.”
I hum. “And?”
Za exhales. “He gave you a lot of… grace.”
I snort before I can help myself. She shoots me a look. “I’m being serious, Frankie.”
I shut up.
“He… cares,” Za says carefully. “Like—he really cares about you.”
I shake my head lightly. “I don’t think—”
“I’m not finished,” she cuts in, not unkindly. “He defended you in IG. Openly. He doesn’t do that. Not like that. And he’s not annoyed when I bring you up anymore.”
I glance at her. “Anymore?”
She nods. “Before, he’d roll his eyes or change the subject. Now he actually asks how you’re doing.”
My chest feels like it’s on fire.
“And,” she adds softly, “you’re not as annoyed with him either.”
I stiffen. “Chinaza—”
She turns fully toward me now, her expression accusatory.
“Is something going on with you two?”
There it is.
I open my mouth to talk then close it. My mind races through a thousand versions of the truth and every single one ends with her hurt. Her eyes flick over my face, waiting.
Hoping.
My heart pounds. I hate lying to her. I hate how easy it would be to tell her everything and let it all fall apart at once.
Yet.
I force myself to breathe.
“No.”
It comes out quiet. Za studies me for a long second.
“Okay,” she says eventually.
She doesn’t sound convinced. But she doesn’t push.
She nods once, then she reaches for her mug and takes a sip. I release a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.
“But,” Za adds after a moment, eyes still on her tea, “if there ever is… you’d tell me, right?”
My chest aches.
“Yeah,” I say. “I would.”
She nods again. “Good.”
She leans her head against my shoulder, like she’s done a thousand times before.
And I sit there letting her, knowing I’ve just crossed a line I can’t uncross.