Chapter 28 Moyo
Moyo
“DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?” NIYI ASKS AS HE PLAYS WITH A strand of my hair, the curl wrapping around his fingers in a practiced rhythm.
I raise my head from his chest, pulling my attention away from his soothing heartbeat and devoting it to his handsome face.
“Any more wine?” I ask.
“Of course. Coming right up, Gorgeous.”
I do a double take. “Now, who’s Gorgeous?”
He barely chuckles; instead, a gust of wind erupts from his nose. “So sorry, Sunshine,” he corrects, and I smile at him. “It’s barely been twenty-four hours, and you’ll only answer to that now?”
“Don’t introduce me to things you can’t maintain,” I say.
“Duly noted. Now let me go get you that wine. Red or white? Or rosé?”
“Red, please.”
As soon as he leaves, the cold sets in, and I put on a black sweater I find strewn across a chair.
“Keep it.” Niyi’s voice startles me, and I jump.
“Sorry for scaring you.” He laughs. “It’s just—wow!” He drops the open bottle of Pinot Noir and two wine glasses on his bedside table, then grabs my hips. “Please, keep the sweater. It looks better on you.” He wets his lips, and I lean in for another kiss.
This time, the kiss is sweet. Our hands roam, but it’s not a frenzy. We’re no longer filled with insatiable hunger. We’re full, but still indulging because who doesn’t like a sweet treat?
We land back on his bed, and I pull back from the kiss. We switch to a comfortable resting position with him seated, resting against the backboard, and me in between his legs.
After Cole, I honestly didn’t expect to find someone else.
I thought that after finding The One and promptly losing him, I'd never experience the love I always craved. But now, as I rest my head on Niyi’s broad chest and he plays with my hair, I know that Cole couldn’t have been my soulmate.
I’ve met someone who makes me feel seen and cared for in ways I never knew existed.
With an overwhelmingly full heart, I reach across Niyi for the wine bottle. I pour two glasses and hand him one.
“To us?” I raise my glass cautiously, because is there even an us? We haven’t spoken about it in specific terms, but it feels natural to say.
Niyi raises his. “To us.” The steadiness in his voice reassures me that we’ll figure it out.
There’s no set plan, but I’m leaning into this because perfection has led me nowhere. One thing is certain—how happy Niyi makes me. It’s a little terrifying, abandoning my dating plan, but an us feels inevitable. Written in the stars.
Grounding myself back in the moment, I clink my glass with his and take a sip. After two more glasses and a greedy amount of kisses, my stomach growls.
“Small chops? Or I still have leftovers from the Nigerian restaurant a few days ago?” Niyi offers.
In the past whirlwind of a day, I forgot I’d bumped into him at Anjie’s. “What’s left?”
“Mercury couldn’t finish their food, so I brought home their leftover jollof,” he says.
“They were at Anjie’s restaurant? Was this a Cupid’s Bow meeting?” I ask. Anjie’s gonna freak out when I tell her Mercury was in her private dining room while we were chatting in the kitchen.
“Your friend I met last night? She owns that place?” Niyi asks, bewildered.
“Small world, huh?”
“First, we live close to each other, now my cousin’s favorite restaurant is owned by your friend. Extremely small.”
I do a double take. “Mercury is your cousin?”
“That’s part of what I wanted to talk about,” Niyi says.
Remembering our first meeting with Mercury and the tidbits Niyi has mentioned about his relationship with his father, I say, “Is that why you were awkward in that first meeting? You don’t get along with family in general?”
“How about we get you something to eat first? This might be a long conversation.”
My interest in the Cupid’s Bow familial organization negates my hunger.
“No, I’d love to hear this,” I say excitedly, but Niyi’s sullen expression tempers my buzz.
“Aside from Merc, my family owns the company,” Niyi begins.
I nod, listening intently.
“My dad used to work as one of the matchmakers till he retired about two years ago, and I took over his position.”
“You’re a nepo baby? Got it.” I say, wrapping my head around things.
Niyi lets out a soft chuckle. “Yes. The other thing is…I don’t know how to explain this without sounding downright ridiculous.”
I take his hand, my concern brewing. “Explain it however. I’m listening.”
“Okay,” Niyi huffs, “Mercury is not their actual name or simply a moniker. It’s their title.”
“Title?”
“Stay with me here. This is where things sound like something out of a book.”
“Niyi, please go on.” I’m trying to remain calm, but my anxiety is starting to spike.
“Every planet has an essence, and some people here on earth embody the planets,” Niyi says.
“Elaborate.”
“My family is one of these vessels for the planets. Merc is Mercury…and I’m Saturn.”
Am I drunk? Is this all a weird dream? When I thought Niyi looked godly when naked, I didn’t mean it literally.
“Let me get this straight…you’re saying you and Mercury are the planets that orbit the sun in the sky.”
“In many ways, yes. Not literally of course, we’re not billions of years old. We’re conduits with the ability to harness the planets’ qualities.”
“So, how are you the planets then?” I ask, trying to make sense of the unimaginable. I hope he’s joking.
“The mantles have been passed down our bloodlines for generations,” he explains, deadly serious.
He believes every ridiculous word…great! Instead of falling for a cheater, I fell for one of the “we wuz kangz” hoteps. But instead of believing his family descended from Egyptian pharaohs, he thinks he’s from the cosmos.
My eyes narrow. “Prove it.”
Niyi chugs the wine left in his glass and then reaches for the half-empty bottle of Pinot.
“Okay, what do you know about Saturn?” His serious tone reminds me of the cold Niyi I first met, and not the man who’d ask “how high” if I said “jump.”
It reminds me of the change in Cole’s demeanor the night he walked in with his wife.
This can’t be happening again.
“Lessons, maturity, longevity.” The list comes out automatic, devoid of my usual brightness.
“Amazing,” Niyi says, offering a wide smile that feels more like him, but garners no reaction from me.
“So, we have powers. Everyone has different capabilities, and one of mine is time.” He pauses and rests his palms on the bottle.
I’m unsure what he’s doing, but he has the same hardened concentration of kids who visit the hospital for constipation.
His breathing slows until I no longer see the soft lift of his chest. My medical training kicks in. His grip on the bottle is strong and unrelenting, despite my efforts to separate the two. I check his neck for a pulse and I feel it thudding, but it fades with each beat.
“Niyi, wake up!” I yell, rubbing his sternum. Nothing.
I lift his eyelids and examine his pupils with my phone’s flashlight. Unresponsive.
What the fuck is going on?
“Niyi!” I put my hand to his lips and feel soft exhalations. Good, he’s still breathing. He’s alive but unresponsive.
“I don’t have my car, but everything will be all right. I’m here, and I’ll be taking you to a hospital. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m taking you to a hospital,” I repeat. Instead of calling 911—insurance rarely ever covers it—I order an Uber.
Right before I confirm the destination, Niyi gasps.
I scream, “Thank God! What the fuck, Niyi? You scared the living daylights outta me. I thought you were—”
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says. “But I’ve aged up the wine.”
“What?” I say and swiftly cancel the Uber request.
“I can manipulate time in objects. Wine has been my favorite test subject. Try it and see if it tastes the same.” His voice comes out strained, and not in a good way.
Niyi hands me his glass after pouring a hearty amount. Part of me doesn’t want to taste it because what he’s saying is impossible, but another part is intrigued.
I take a sip, and instead of the basic red wine from earlier, it has an even richer flavor than my Tignanello.
For extra measure, I take another sip of my almost empty glass and return to Niyi’s new pour.
I repeat this series of motions like a wind-up doll with one setting.
And just like the automaton, I return to the same conclusion, back to my starting point.
“It’s true,” I whisper in utter disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s true,” Niyi confirms.
“You’re gods?”
“Technically, yes.”
The truth only creates further questions. “So, Cupid’s Bow not using an algorithm is true?”
“For the matches Merc, and our other cousin Vee—Venus—set up, yes.”
Here I thought it was a marketing gimmick.
I play back Niyi’s words. He mentioned Mercury and Venus, but what about him? “Do you make matches too?” I ask, and he rubs his nape, as he does in awkward situations.
“As Saturn, I used an algorithm because up until literally yesterday, I didn’t have full control of my powers.”
“You just said…” I peter off, confused. First, he has powers, now he’s saying he doesn’t have powers.
“I was given the role, but unlike Merc and the rest of my family, I couldn’t get a handle on it. Probably because I hated it. I never wanted to be Saturn, except when I was a kid.”
“So, what changed? Why do you now have full control to go comatose aging wine?”
“You.”
That knocks the wind out of me. “Me?”
“My cousins have always said our powers are connected to our emotional state. I thought conceding to my father’s wishes and trying my hardest at the job would suffice, but I’ve struggled for months. Until last night, when I stopped pushing aside my feelings for you,” Niyi explains.
I’m speechless.
“You reminded me that I needed to do me and choose my path, even if it’s contrary to what I’ve been brought up to do. Using my full powers has been the scariest experience of my life, as you saw,” he says. “I never want to experience it again.”
“So what? You’re quitting Cupid’s Bow?”
“Quitting the job won’t be enough. I’ve been figuring out a way to get rid of everything.”
“Everything, meaning your powers?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean for us?” I ask, my voice shaking. “What if you can’t get rid of them?” The image of his unresponsive body fills my head.
“I will,” Niyi says, determined.
That’s not enough. “But what happens if you don’t?”
Niyi takes a deep breath. “I wouldn’t feel right doing that to you. I can’t expect you to be with someone who won’t be around due to his job. I know what it’s like to be raised by such a man, and I refuse to repeat the cycle.”
“That means…” Realization hits. I went against my better judgement only for things to end.
“I’ll find a way. Moyo, I promise you.” Niyi takes my hands. Where I’m unsure, he’s unwavering. The determination emanating from his every pore should bestow me with faith, but unfortunately, I can’t muster it. Once bitten, twice shy.
I pull my hands away.
“I need a moment. Or several,” I say, getting out of bed. I retrieve my dress from the floor.
“I understand,” Niyi says sadly.
Niyi follows me to the living room as I don my coat. He even opens the door for me.
“I’m not giving up on us, Moyo. Take all the time you need, but please don’t give up on me.”
With a stony face, I say, “Okay,” unsure if that’s even the truth.
What the hell am I supposed to do with a god who goes into unconscious states?