Chapter 50
50
We doze off in each other’s arms, my head against his rising chest. For the first time in months, I’m in a state of total peace. I feel so blessed. I’ve been given a second chance by Wale, by Mayee, and my relationship with my parents is great. I feel as if I’ve evolved, not just as a writer, but as a person too.
Wale has barely gotten any sleep when he rolls out of bed and stumbles into his clothes.
Rubbing my eyes, I check the time on my phone. ‘Dude, it’s like eight o’clock in the morning. You don’t have to leave.’ I catch the last flash of brown skin before he buttons up his shirt.
Wale tidies his hair with his hands in front of the mirror. ‘I know. But there’s still some stuff that needs packing away at the venue that has to be out by nine. You free this afternoon?’
‘Yeah. What you thinking?’
‘Meet me at one at Anansi Books. I’ve got some notes.’
‘Notes?’
‘Yeah. On my memoir. It’s a solid draft but I’ve got a few comments.’
‘Yeah. Of course.’ I knew that.
He stoops over and gives me a long kiss, then grabs his phone and heads towards the door. ‘See you later, beautiful.’
‘Wale!’
He turns around.
‘Um, I want to tell you something. But once I say it, I don’t want there to be a long discussion about it or for you to bring it up again. I want to move on and put the past behind me.’
Wale looks at me with concern. He goes to kneel beside my bed and takes my hand in his.
I draw a breath. ‘It’s about Kojo.’ He braces himself. He inhales slowly and dips his head for me to carry on. ‘I was really inspired by the way you handled him yesterday. You didn’t allow him to get a rise out of you. You controlled the situation and, in turn, retained your power. I know I said my case would go nowhere if I reported it to the police – and I very much still believe that – and I don’t have the mental capacity to go through the whole justice system. But I would like some closure on what happened. Based on my terms. Which is why –’ I breathe a gulp of air into my lungs – ‘I’ve decided that I’m going to report Kojo anonymously to Crimestoppers. Who knows? Maybe it might help another woman in the future.’
Wale’s grip around my hand tightens. He’s peering at me with such pride and I can sense all the things he wants to say but isn’t, out of respect for my decision. Finally, he says, ‘That’s very brave of you,’ and he pulls me into him and holds me for as long as I need him to.
Later in the day, I go to meet Wale as planned. And when I stroll into Anansi Books, it’s filled with sunlight. Aunty Shirley looks fresh-faced as she grins at me from behind the counter.
‘He’s waiting for you.’
Wale is sitting in a black sweater facing the entrance. I feel a wash of déjà vu. Only we’re two completely different people now.
With the widest of smiles, he rises to his feet. My heart expands; my happiness is too big to contain.
‘You’re wearing Sasha,’ he says, bobbing the side of my glasses.
I give him a wink. ‘I know.’
We slide into our seats. On the table are two plastic cups. A distinctive nutty smell tickles my nose.
‘You’re too cute,’ I say with a smile. ‘Thanks.’ I take a sip. God, that tastes good. ‘Now, about these notes.’
Wale laughs. ‘I want to show you something.’ He rummages into his rucksack before pulling out a notebook. It’s one of those vintage-looking bound journals made out of tanned leather. ‘I wasn’t too sure when to share this with you. But I think now is a good time.’ He opens it and slides the book over to me. ‘When I returned home after The Villa , I started journaling again.’
Gingerly, I pull it close. Wale has already revealed so much. What else could he possibly have to say? I glance up at him for a beat and then I read.
16th August
I messed up. She will never take me back. I don’t think she’ll even talk to me ever again. For flip sake, that damn show was such a bad decision. She probably won’t even apply for the ghostwriter job, but if she does, I have to show her that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man now.
‘I’m confused. How did you know that Mayee recommended me for the job?’
His smile touches his eyes. He doesn’t answer straight away. ‘Well, I told Greg that Mayee represents this amazing British Nigerian author who just so happens to be a ghostwriter—’
It takes me a second to wrap my head around what he’s saying.
‘So, wait. Did you plan this?’
Wale is still smiling, the amusement growing in his face. ‘Only as far as asking Greg to send Mayee the job spec. The rest – fate took care of that. And, obviously, I didn’t plan on you writing a revenge book about me.’ He laughs.
‘So, it wasn’t a coincidence?’ All this time, Shona was right.
Wale laces his fingers with mine and holds my gaze. He looks as though he wants me to hang on to his every word. ‘While I was on the show, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,’ he says. ‘It was driving me nuts, and stupid me thought dating another girl would help. But all it did was make me miss you more. None of them came close to you, Tems.’
Warmth radiates from my chest.
‘I even tried to leave the show a couple of times. But the producers kept persuading me to stay.’
‘You wanted to leave? For me?’ My voice is so small, I can barely hear myself.
Wale tearfully swallows as he nods, his grasp tightening. ‘But I knew once I came back, I would have to earn your forgiveness. You had every right not to speak to me ever again – I wouldn’t have blamed you. Saying sorry over and over wouldn’t cut it. I had to show you that I was working on being a better man and that I was committed too. I didn’t only talk about my mental health during therapy. I talked about us.’
All this … for me?
‘The memoir worked in my favour,’ Wale goes on, his voice fraying. He clears his throat. ‘When I was presented with the opportunity, my first thought was Who the hell would want to read a book written by me? But then Greg said we could hire a ghostwriter. And, of course, you came to mind. To be honest, Tems, as much as I would like the public to see a different side of me, I don’t think I would have gone through with this project if you hadn’t come onboard.’
A single fat tear rolls down my cheek.
‘Remember, a few weeks ago, when we sat here?’ Gently, he lifts my glasses and brushes a delicate thumb against my lashline. ‘When I looked you in the face and said people assume that I’m too scared to love? Well, I’m telling you now, I’m not. I was just hesitant to say it. But not any more. I love you, Temi. I always have.’
My tears are flowing now. I was so desperate to hear him say this. I needed to know he was as far along with his feelings as I was with mine. That he could do what Seth couldn’t – be loud and vocal about how he felt about me when I needed to hear him say it the most.
I wipe my nose. Wale gets out a tissue and dabs my wet cheeks. I inhale deeply. ‘Whew,’ I say, breathing out.
He smiles. ‘I threw a lot at you. Take your time.’
So, I do. I sit quietly for a moment, taking everything in.
And then I lean over and kiss him passionately. Maybe it’s too much for a public setting. But I don’t care. Wale Bandele loves me and I love him.
‘I love you too,’ I tell him, relishing the feel of his beard against my palms. ‘I loved you then and I love you now. You’re pretty much the love of my life.’
We kiss again.
‘So,’ he says, sitting back in his chair, ‘how do you feel about being with a celebrity?’
‘Finally! You admit that you’re a celeb! And it’s fine. You’re not that famous.’ I bat a hand. ‘Besides, half the internet already knows who I am and next season you’ll be old news. Wait, does this mean you want to carry on doing the whole social media thing?’
Wale shrugs. ‘For the meantime. I’m gonna play the long game,’ he says, nodding. ‘I think the gala has taught me that I can carve my own lane for myself. I haven’t got a fully fleshed-out plan yet but I would like to do something with Black male carers in the future.’
As if I needed another reason to love this man.
‘And how about you – what’s next?’ he says, brushing light strokes on the back of my hand. ‘Have you got an idea for your next book?’
‘Not yet,’ I say. ‘But I’ll get there.’
‘ We ’ ll get there,’ Wale corrects me. He nudges his knee against mine under the table. ‘Speaking of books, I never did ask … The Ultimate Payback , how does it end? Did your characters get back together?’
Dionne’s suggestion comes to mind. Despite my original ending, Sophie and Wayne were always meant to find their way back to each other. I just needed to get out of their way.
And with a smile of someone who now, without question, wholeheartedly believes in fate, I reply, ‘It’s a romance, what do you think?’