Page 24

We drifted apart.

Without knowing it, Malakai and I had a PR line. The last scraps of our connection worked to bond us in the lie. It didn’t really make any sense. Malakai and I didn’t have a love that was capable of becoming brittle and thin enough to snap. Our love was many things, but flimsy wasn’t one of them. We were stubborn in our own ways, we bickered, he clammed up and I lashed out, but the material of which our bond was made wouldn’t allow us to drift. It needed a severance, a brutal tectonic cleaving. Our love was obtrusive and decadent. It coated us, soaked us and maybe that was the issue. It overwhelmed us, bent our bones till we broke.

Aminah knows a little more, but at the time it was too raw for me to intricately unpack without bleeding out more– so I told her the Cliff Notes, and as time went on and I healed further I was terrified of regression, terrified of reinfection, so I kept details to myself.

We drifted apart.

Besides,Ibarely know what happened. All I really know, all that matters, is that one day we were, and the next we were not. One day my heart was intact, the other it was scattered into so many pieces I still don’t know if I’ve got all of them back. I need to protect what I’ve got left. We’re standing with a notable gap between us and Unsaids fill the space. Malakai’s eyes scan me with idle curiosity, a quick lick of my face, my form, that jarringly leaves flaming trails that makes my nipples pucker in alertness. I sway into the still. Oh. Absolutely not. This is just my body recalibrating to the shock of being around him. Which means I need to not be around him.

I step back. ‘Well. I’m sure you have people that would love to catch up with you. I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Look, Kiki. This doesn’t have to be weird.’

I release a little huff of humour. ‘We were doing so well pretending it wasn’t till you said that.’

Malakai pushes a hand in his pocket, in what is a vexingly sexy move and tilts his head. ‘Were we?’

I clear my throat. ‘Fine, yes. Clearly, it’s a little awkward, and obviously we can’t be like. . .friends.’The word feels sharp. It grazes my heart in my throat on its way out. ‘But–’ I force a breeze into my words, which is a true miracle, because I feel kind of airless inside– ‘we just need to doula our best friends down the aisle and help throw them a Big Fat West African Wedding. That’s our only job. To love them through this and keep the peace. This isn’t about us. We communicate to facilitate activities.’

Malakai nods in agreement. ‘We’re colleagues.’

‘Acquaintances,’ I affirm.

Malakai’s mouth lopes in a dangerous slope that’s as playful as a knife suspended in the dark. ‘Just try not to be distracted by the fact that you’ve seen me naked. It’s unprofessional.’

I squint into the air in thought, tilting my head.

Bemusement colours his face. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Trying to pick you out in my mental line-up of torsos and dicks.’

Malakai’s laugh is satisfyingly low and deep and I resent the flutter it elicits in my core. ‘Wow. You know, Kiki, acting like I’m not memorable isn’t a lie I would go with. Go for something believable at least.’

I maintain my perplexed look. ‘Remind me real quick, were you the one with the–’ I curve my hand slightly– ‘Oh, wait, that was. . .’ I release a slow smile in feigned recollection. ‘Well, never mind.’

Malakai shakes his head slowly, eyes twinkling in challenge. ‘Nah, I get it. Telling yourself you don’t remember is how you console yourself over the loss.’

I laugh loudly, as if what he’s saying is ridiculous, and that I am not, in fact, lying through my teeth, because of course I remember. In fact, I probably remember too much, if I’m going to be honest. Which I won’t be doing. ‘Thank you for your concern, but I’m good. Well taken care of.’

‘What a relief, because, you know, thatwasa primary concern of mine. I would lie awake at night, thinking,Man, you know what? I hope Kiki’s getting her back broke tonight.’

I match the dryness in his voice. ‘Oh, so you’re saying I have you to thank for my orgasms?’

‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.’

Unfortunately, I flew into that, a silly little bird into floor-to-ceiling windows in the form of a tall, handsome, broad headache of a man. I repress the primal leap to open my mouth and respond to this, but the embers in his gaze make the words turn to ash. I briefly flick my eyes to the bauble lights above us in an eye-roll and conjure new words.

‘You must not remember who I am, Malakai. Iknowyou. And you can’t do your smooth pretty fuckboi shit on me—’

‘So you still think I’m pretty—’

I ignore the shit-eating curve of his lips. ‘I’m not one of your LA septum-piercing plant mum girls who hear your accent and get weak at the knees, because they think you’re Damson Idris.’

‘Kiki, this is the second time you’ve called me peng in five seconds. And I’m hencher than Damson Idris. Also, that’s very specific. You been stalking the girls I’ve been seeing?’

Please. So arrogant. It was once, and it was over a year ago. I ignore him.

‘They’re not seeing your face. They’re just hearing your accent. They hear one “innit” and start shaking. Anyway, I’ve seen what you’re like around cats. You can’t be on your gyalis shit around someone who has seen you freak out when one brushes up against your leg.’