Surprise, Surprise!
15
__________ _
Excitement courses through me as I step off the plane onto UK soil. Days have blurred together as I planned this surprise visit. The random and birthday gifts I sent to my man in the past paid off because now I have his exact address without having to ask. It would have been cool to have him pick me up here, but the element of surprise will be ruined. Oh, and it was when I was about to board my flight I remembered that I don’t trust airplanes. In the end, it was anything for my man.
Navigating my way out of the bustling airport into the pleasant, cloudy day, you’d think I’m a seasoned globe trotter who knows her way around this airport. Truth is, I’m just one lucky girl, thrilled to be seeing her man!
I call for an Uber and the car arrives promptly. When I settle into the backseat, the hum of the engine soothes my racing heart. The cityscape passes by, and I take in the unfamiliar surroundings—streets lined with elegant buildings, people walking alone and in groups. It’s different from Dublin, yet there’s a familiarity to the urban rhythm that makes me feel right at home .
At home…
I gaze at my reflection in the Uber’s window, and a stranger stares back—a person with a new identity, a foreign version of myself. A smile starts forming on my lips, but a haunting voice in my head whispers—does feeling at home here mean I’m becoming a stranger to my roots? What parts of my former self am I losing in this pursuit of a different life?
My heart pounds faster with each passing street, and I force myself to shake off the lingering unease that is silently plaguing me, shifting my focus to here and now. Am I excited to be in the UK? Or nervous about seeing Special after almost three years?
Yes, to all!
This moment, reuniting with Special, is a moment I’ve dreamt of for so long. And now, here I am, mere moments away from being in his presence and my fingers are becoming sweaty, betraying my composed exterior.
As the car approaches Special’s apartment building, I’m debating whether to wear a smile or a laugh when we see. Should I fling myself at him? I honestly don’t know what to do!
Letting out a long exhale, I agree I’ll let the scene play out.
When the car comes to a halt, a huge lump forms in my throat, intensifying my nervousness. Swallowing hard, I force out a thank you to the driver and step out onto the pavement. My heart races as I take in the tall building. With the help of the driver, I retrieve my luggage from the trunk, thanking him once more.
Taking a deep breath to quell the fluttering butterflies in my stomach, I make my way inside and up the stairs, my mind racing a mile a minute with each step.
I reach his apartment door, raise my hand to knock, then hesitate, my hand hanging mid-air. What if he’s busy with work? What if he’s caught up in a meeting? I’m so nervous, it’s as though I want to do the number two.
Gathering courage, I rap my knuckles against the door, the sound echoing through the corridor. In what feels like a mere second, the door swings open, and there he is—Special.
Oh!
My heart !
A perplexed frown shapes his features, and my heart responds with a staccato rhythm, struggling for oxygen.
As the door creaks open wider, I drink in every detail of his appearance. He’s still tall and athletic, every bit the Special I remember. But some things are not the same—he’s changed, I note, my pulse quickening at the sight of his cocoa skin, which now glows in a different light, appearing fairer. He's sporting a cute medium goatee now. I notice the thin smile lines gracing the corners of his eyes, adding a distinguished charm to his features, making him look sexier than ever. These are subtle transformations, yet enough to redefine his appeal.
Time has been both kind and transformative, shaping him into a version that exudes a new kind of magnetism. Despite the passing of time since I waved him goodbye at the Murtala Muhammed International airport, he remains undeniably handsome, his presence commanding attention and stirring teasing emotions within me. This realization washes over me like a wave, leaving me momentarily breathless as I drink in the sight of him, the essence of who he is, and who he has become in my absence.
Our eyes lock, and the air becomes charged. I open my mouth to speak, but the sensation of being in his presence after such a prolonged absence tingles through my senses, leaving me speechless. I just want to touch him. Hold him. Be in his arms. And—and melt into him.
“Fifi?” His voice sends shivers down my spine, his smile, still as captivating as ever.
I smile back, hoping my nervous energy isn’t too obvious, as relief and happiness begin to replace it. “Hey, Spesh. Can I—”
“—Come here.” He pulls me into a warm embrace without waiting for me to complete my thought or sentence.
I wrap my arms around him, taking in his scent which is new and exciting.
All the worries, all the uncertainties, they melt away. Tears threaten to form, and I laugh them away.
He pulls away from me, reaching around for my luggage. “You ehn!”
“Tell me you weren’t surprised.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “After you,” he says, guiding me into his apartment. “You’re lucky I don’t have plans this evening. ”
“How would you?” I tease, tongue in cheek, “When your PA is here.”
As we step inside his apartment, it automatically somehow feels like home. His living room is adorned with minimalist furniture, featuring clean lines and neutral tones that create an open and airy atmosphere. Subtle hints of his personality are scattered around—the books on the shelves, and the touch of whimsy in the simplistic artwork on the walls. A comfortable yet stylish creamy white three-seater cushion beckons for relaxation, adorned with strategically placed throws and a couple of well-chosen single cushions. I spy a laptop open on the coffee table. He explains that he was wrapping up with work when I knocked. Our talk moves on to the similarities and differences between the UK and Ireland.
In his presence, I feel a sense of familiarity and comfort, a feeling that I’ve finally returned to where I belong. Does he notice any change in me? Is he feeling the way I feel? Is he comfortable around me?
I look at him, like really look at him, and I see our past, the promise of our future, and the beauty of a love that remains as constant as the passage of time. Our kids would look so cute—Wait. What was that?!
Um… I need to reconfigure my brain. Life is just getting better, no need to start rushing things that will follow with time.
Using a playful grin to cover my unusual thoughts, I spread my arms across the back of his couch. “So, this is how you’re enjoying your new kingdom, huh?”
He chuckles, a warmth in his eyes that’s so familiar and more powerful in person than over video calls. “Yep, welcome to my humble abode.” He taps a couple of things on his laptop, before closing it.
I glance around his apartment, taking in the curated space that reflects his personality—cute, neat and clean. “Humble indeed. You’ve really upgraded from the days of living with four guys in that cramped apartment.”
His laughter fills the room, a melodic sound that’s been absent from my life for far too long. “You came all the way to tell me this?”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Smirking, I pat the throw pillow beside me. “I like what you’ve done with it. This place feels like luxury compared to that one. ”
He winces and I chuckle, continuing my torture. Leaning forward, I rest my chin on my hand, my lips curving into a smile. “Remember when you moved to that apartment, and you called me to give me a tour?”
His eyes twinkle with recognition, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “Ah, yes. I remember that. You laughed at the chaos.”
I nod, a chuckle escaping my lips. “It was like a tornado hit the place. I could barely hear you over the noise in the background.”
His gaze softens. “But you still stayed on the call, even though it was chaos.”
“Well,” I shrug playfully, “someone had to make sure you didn’t trip over something and end up with a broken arm.”
He lets out a hearty laugh, a sound that's pure music to my ears. “You always had my back.”
Have. Have your back.
A comfortable silence settles between us, and I simply stare at him, blessed to be here. Sharing this space and time with him.
He moves from the coffee table area to sit beside me. Close enough, but not as close as I want to be. At the same time, I wish he remained over there, so I can keep staring at him.
Whew, what exactly do I want?
“So,” I clear my throat, “are you going to give me an in-person tour of this palace, or do I have to imagine it all from this angle?”
Special stands up, motioning for me to follow him. “Oh, you’ll get the grand tour, don’t worry.”
“I’m not saying—”
“Come on. Get up,” he teases in a mock tone, “let’s get this in-person tour done with.”
Laughing, I stand and follow him, feeling a sense of contentment. Should I reach out to hold his hand or… I’ll just walk behind him.
If he notices my worry, he doesn’t act like it. He simply reaches for my hand, guiding me through his apartment, his voice animated as he points out various features. My attention is split between his words, his form and the sensations his touch on my hand ignites. As we step out of the quaint bathroom, his skin brushes against mine, sending a jol t of electricity through my veins, awakening a dormant desire that’s been building for years.
“I thought you meant I should go out first nau,” I say, laughing self-consciously in an attempt to hide his effect on me.
I try to focus on our conversation, on the laughter that flows effortlessly between us, but my thoughts keep drifting to this undeniable pull I feel towards him. His presence, his warmth, it’s all too familiar, yet there’s an intensity to it now that wasn’t there before.
He leads me to a cozy corner of the living room that has sunlight filtering through the window casting a soft glow around us. As we settle into the comfortable chairs, he doesn’t let go of my hand, his fingers intertwine with mine as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Does he know what this simple gesture is stirring within me? Or that the weight of his hand in mine, and the warmth radiating between us is messing with my principles.
Minutes tick by, we continue to talk and laugh, while an internal conflict rages within me.
This… this attraction I’m feeling towards him is undeniable. Does he feel it too? I think the way he’s holding onto my hand confirms this mutual pull between us.
Careful! You’re misinterpreting things. You came to see him, not to carry his babies.
That’s not a bad idea…
My mind races, torn between the intensity of my emotions and the practicalities I must consider.
This laughter, this ease, this connection—it’s all like a dream. A dream I’m afraid to fully embrace for fear of the unknown.
Whenever his gaze meets mine, I see a flicker of emotions that matches my own. He speaks animatedly, as though excited to have me here in person. These bits are enough to give me peace of mind.
“You must be hungry,” he says. “Pizza?”
I shrug, squeezing his hand. “Anything is fine. ”
He pulls out his phone with one hand while the other remains entwined with mine and begins placing an order. “I’ve got a bottle of wine I’ve been keeping for your visit.” He smiles.
“I’d love that, too.”
Much later, as we eat, a sense of contentment washes over me as I stare at the man before me, laughing at something I said. I’ve never doubted I made the right choice. Whatever the future holds, this is all that truly matters.