Love Finds A Way To The Heart - Episode 2

Ejiro, seated in the couch, was munching on an apple. He finished it and picked another one from the fruit bowl on the coffee table in front of him. After the second apple, he took his phone and logged into his Facebook account.

***

Gbemisola did wear the panties she’d found in that plastic bag. She’d made sure the toilet paper she’d used was carefully in place while she was slipping the panties on. Standing before the full-length mirror, she was checking herself out. She thought it a coincidence that the panties were black - the very colour she had a bias for when it comes to her underwear. She liked that fact that the panties provided full-rear coverage in its stretched-to-fit state. The thought of Ejiro breezing in without warning there and then, and finding her clad just in her bra and the panties, nagged at Gbemisola. So she quickly put on the skort and the t-shirt.

    She went back to the bathroom and fished out an empty polythene bag from her handbag. Afterwards she put that stained dress of hers together with her panties inside the poly bag. She then washed her hands and dried them. Shutting the bathroom door after her, she joined Ejiro in the living room. He looked up from his phone as she emerged

All episodes of this story can be found here >> https://www.ebonystory.com/story/love-finds-a-way-to-the-heart-1

. His eyes bathed her in admiration.

    ‘You look as fresh as freshwater fish.’

    Gbemisola snorted with laughter. ‘Thanks.’ She sat on the couch across from him. ‘By the way, the panties fit well.’

    ‘Oh. You wore them after all?’

    ‘Mm-hmm.’

    ‘It’s a pity I didn’t get to see how well the panties fit you.’

    Gbemisola caught the jocularity in Ejiro’s tone of voice. Jokingly, too, she said: ‘Aw, poor you.’ They both burst into laughter. After a moment’s pause, Gbemisola began: ‘It almost seems you had my size all figured out.’

    ‘Well, I made a mental note of your waist-hip measurement and I reckoned you measured twenty-eight and thirty-eight on both counts. Which, more or less, should place your shape wear size at either medium or size six?

    ‘Geeze! You’re unusual. It’s as though you solved mathematics with my measurement.’

    ‘I take it then that I got your measurements right?’

    ‘You said it! But I’m curious.’

    ‘About what?’

    ‘The clothes - everything.’

    ‘They are all brand new.’

    ‘That’s reassuring. But don’t they belong to… your girlfriend?’

    Ejiro gave a laugh that emanated from the depths of his bowels so much so that he could not help holding his stomach.

    ‘No.’ he finally said. The panties…the clothes – they’re all mine

    ‘How do you mean?’

    ‘I sell them. I own a women clothing store downtown. I tend to keep some stock here at home.’

    ‘Oh, I see.’

    ‘Care for an apple?’

    ‘Please.’  

    ‘Here it comes.’ Ejiro threw her an apple and she caught it deftly.

    ‘Mm. Not a bad catch!’

    ‘Well, I played handball at school.’

    ‘That’s nice.’

    Gbemisola went munchy on the apple while Ejiro glanced at his Facebook page.

    ‘Do you have a business card?’

    Ejiro looked up from his phone. ‘Yeah.’

    ‘I wouldn’t mind having your card.’

    ‘Okay.’ Ejiro dug into his pocket, brought out his wallet, from which he drew a business card that had crispness written all over it. He rose and walked up to Gbemisola. She took the card and looked through.

    ‘I need to go now.’

    ‘Really?’

    ‘Mm.’

    ‘Okay. Let me see you off then.’

    Gbemisola got up. ‘You’ve been a great help to me, Ejiro. Can I buy you lunch one of these days – if you’re free?’

    ‘Oh. No problem.’

    ‘All right.’

    With Ejiro in tow, Gbemisola walked towards the door. She wore her shoes. Ejiro opened the door, letting her out first. ‘Give me a sec,’ he said.

    ‘Okay.’

    Ejiro went and shut the windows.

    ‘We’re good to go now,’ he smiled. Gbemisola smiled back. They engaged in idle chat as they sauntered off.

                        ***

She drank the best part of a pot of coffee in the kitchen, waiting for him to get home.

    ‘You don’t have to wait up for me,’ he’d told her in the morning just before leaving. ‘I’ll be working late,’ he’d added. She had given him a bland look as he continued: ‘And be sure to lock up the backdoor as well as the front door. But lock the front door without the bolt. Simply–’

    ‘Use the key,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘I know that already. At least I‘ve never locked you out of the house ever since you’ve been coming home late recently?’

    Where, before, she would be the one to fall upon him and kiss him goodbye when he was set to leave for work, in recent times she hardly ever even made as if to kiss him whenever he said he was going. Noticing her reluctance and nonchalance of late, he would say: ‘So aren’t you going to give me a kiss?’ Then she would briskly kiss him – just the faintest touch of her lips to his cheek – whereupon he would take leave of her.

    She had now finished the coffee. No sooner had she thrown the coffee dregs down the sink than she heard the clock strike midnight. It was around this time her ears literally pricked up at the sound of the gate outside. She rinsed the coffee cup and replaced it. She’d barely got to the living room when she heard the key turning in the lock. He’d already entered and was locking the door, his back toward her, and he was yet unaware of her presence. Astonishment was largely writ on his face when he turned and saw her standing arms akimbo.

    ‘What are you doing up late at this hour?’

    ‘It’s funny that you’re pulling a face, you know. I’ve been… wondering why… why you’ve been coming home—’

    ‘But I told you I’d been working late.’

    She looked at him square in the face. After a pause, she went on: ‘I finally see why you’ve been working late for the past three weeks?’

    ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

    ‘The lipstick stains on your lapel.’

    Instantly his eyes darted towards the front of his white blazer. ‘Damn,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘Guilty or not guilty?’ Her characteristically sing-song voice was faintly mocking.

    ‘Honey… I–’

    ‘Save your breath, I believe you must have got the stain when she – whoever she is – was nuzzling up against you. She let out a sigh evincing disappointment, then continued: ‘I thought you’d at least have had the courtesy to come home early considering that today is mum’s remembrance day. I’d never planned on going alone to the cemetery to lay flowers on her grave. Yet I was there all by myself today. Ain’t that a first?’

    He caught a whiff of sarcasm in her voice. Conscience pricked his heart all at once. He opened his mouth to say something, but it felt as though his tongue had become heavy inside his mouth, making him unable to get any word out. His eyes dropped to the floor as he hung his head. She left him in this nonplussed state and made towards the door leading to her room. Just before she went inside, she cast a backwards glance at him.

    ‘I think it might do you some good if you remarry.’ Gbemisola entered her room pronto, then her father went towards the couch and plopped down on the sofa