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‘I’m. . . Kai, I’m sorry for what you went through out there.’

I’d imagined Malakai living it up, enjoying the freedom from my shackles, but knowing he was in pain lacerates me in a way that I didn’t expect, and I stop myself from saying, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there,’ because it’s nonsense and yet it’s the only thing that makes sense for me to say in this moment. Iamsorry he was hurting. Iamsorry I wasn’t there for him. Instead, I reach my hand out underwater for his. His hand clasps around mine immediately. It feels like a secret. In this underground indoor pool in this secret garden, underwater, we can hold hands and no one will know. We barely know.

Malakai looks down at me, eyes glistening with gratitude, before saying, ‘Tell me why you were upset today, Scotch. Please.’

I want to tell him that he’s forgotten the rules, but the pleasure at my nickname is so concentrated, so sweet, that I can’t bring myself to, and, besides, what are rules here? This place is like an airport: time doesn’t exist so the past doesn’t exist. You can have a beer at 6a.m., bare your soul to your ex in your underwear. I inhale deeply, and exhale something that’s been wrapped tightly around my chest.

‘We had viewings today. For the restaurant. One of them was a couple from Berkshire. They wanna make it into a cheese-and-wine bar. Sam and Cherry. Walked into Sákárà and said it “smelled exciting”. I don’t know how it came up, but they started talking about how much they loved Afrobeats–said their kid can’t get enough of Rema and Selena’s “Calm Down”.’

‘Oh. Right. I see.’ Malakai’s thumb strokes the inside of my palm absently and it’s making me slightly dizzy, the deliberate, small movements comforting me and sending chills through my form at the same time. He valiantly tucks in the multiple comments I know he has loading, giving me space for me to pull out my words.

‘It just made it real. I think I’ve sort of been . . . burying the truth of how it feels, you know? But it sucks. It really sucks to know that the place that was full of such love and family is going to be sucked of its soul. And Iloveport.’ Malakai shrugs.

‘Overrated. Port is just gentrified Magnum. You can get that from any bossman. You don’t need Sam and Strawberry for that—’ I laugh and I feel a knot unwind within me as I shake my head. ‘It just. . .scares me a little, if I’m honest. So much is changing. Aminah’s getting married, which is amazing, but it’schange. What if our relationship changes too? I feel it starting to happen and I can’t . . . I can’t afford to lose her. I’m already losing a home I’ve had for my entire life. My parents are moving to Lagos. I’m building a new career, which is exciting, but terrifying. I don’t have any real financial literacy so I’m bingeingIndustry. It’s not really helping. Also, I’m trespassing in a millionaire’s pool. What is happening? Who am I?’

‘Whoa.’ Malakai tugs at my hand, pulls me forward. I wade in front of him. He frowns gently at me. ‘What’s this? Look at that crease in between your eyes. Massive brain justwhirring.You’re Kiki Banjo. That ain’t just any name.’ He ducks his head and his hand tilts my chin up to ensure I’m looking him in the eye. It’s a move that would be bold in literally any other context, but in this one it doesn’t make sense that he would do anything else. It presses me more firmly into me, like I wasn’t sitting snug before. ‘It’s going to be OK. Change is good. This is just an evolution. It’s scary, but all good things are a little scary in the beginning. Shit, you know what I did when I found LA scary, but you’re way braver than me. Always have been, Scotch. You’ll find your feet, just give yourself a little grace. You’re always so hard on yourself, man. Why? Bottling things up. I need you to do unto yourself as you do to others.’ His smile slopes. ‘And, look, you and Aminah love each other and it will be fine. You will always be fine. Sákárà is a representation of something in you, you’re allowed to acknowledge what it means to you, and you’re gonna pour it into everything you do so it’s going to live forever. No matter what. And this isn’t just any millionaire’s pool–it’s my pool. I told you that already.’

My heart could double as a floaty it’s so full up, and maybe that’s why it leaks over to my eyes that instantly feel heavy. I manage to choke out a quiet, ‘Thank you K—Malakai.’ Malakai shakes his head in gentle dismissal of my gratitude, like what he’s just done was nothing, when it’s far from nothing. The ease by which he did it only cements how Not Nothing it was. No one has ever made me feel this way: secure in my skin and also transcending anything that could confine me. That’s depressing because no one has ever broken my heart like him either. Malakai’s face is so open, and earnest I want to run to it, but something makes my movements tacky, I keep getting stuck.

‘Why do you hate being called Kai now? Is that new? Or were you just humouring me for the entire duration of our relationship? Something you said I could say because it sounded cute?’

Malakai’s eyes fasten on to me tightly, and I see a tiny battle in him as he decides how much he wants to say. Maybe he’s trying to decide how extensively facts will implode this fragile truce we have going on.

He swallows. ‘I told Taré that because it was easier for me to say than the truth.’ His jaw tightens as he looks at something beyond my head, before meeting my gaze again, the heat in them curling the air in my throat. ‘I hate being called Kai by anyone who isn’t you.’ His voice is naked of affect, which overwhelms me because he’s saying it like it’s fact, and I really wish he wouldn’t do this, because it’s getting hard to remember things I should.

He lifts my chin with his thumb so I can look him in the eye. ‘That name belongs to you, Scotch. It’s yours. No matter what’s happened between us.’

It’s yours.It lands in me and wreaks havoc on my reasoning. I am tilting my neck to allow his hand to slip to my throat, and it does, because it knows what to do. His eyes dip to the tangle of gold necklaces lying against my clavicle, and he picks up a charm between his thumb and forefinger. ‘You’re still wearing it.’ It’s a chilli pepper pendant he gave me on our third anniversary. ‘Couldn’t find a scotch bonnet. You believe that? Hold that for now,’ he’d said then, ‘when I get my money up I’ll get one commissioned for my baby.’ I forgot I’m still wearing it. It’s part of my daily rotation of jewellery, part of me. I’ve never stopped wearing it. I don’t think I even noticed that I’ve never stopped wearing it until now.

‘It’s yours,’ I say.

Our noses graze, and his breath is fragrant, delicious. I want to keep it for myself and wear it on my wrists, taste it in my mouth. His other hand has wrapped round my waist, pressing me closer to him, and I feel his firm length against my softness. I let out a moan that I should technically be embarrassed by, but isn’t this whole thing technically embarrassing? Yet, I am not, I feel bold with it, secure with it. Malakai’s eyes flare at the sound of my pleasure, his breathing staggered as I slowly swirl on the hard evidence of our chaos, curving a leg around his hip so he can mould into me. His hand lowers to my butt cheek and he grips and groans, as I trace his lips, as I move to nip at his neck in possession, tongue branding him as I slide my hand down his chest, relishing the firm feel.It’s yours. Then I snag on the other part of his sentence.No matter what happened between us.Like our break-up was a mild disagreement, not a shattering of my world. Maybe it really is something he can brush under a carpet. Something light enough to flick away. I feel the sting of cool air waking me up from what was clearly a haze of nostalgia-fuelled delusion blurring my vision.

Shit, what am I doing? Why am I here, listening to R&B, wet-dry humpingmy ex?

I shake my head as I hop off of him and back away, ‘Nope. I can’t do this. You may be able to do this casual one-foot-in, one-foot-out shit, but I can’t. OK? I can’t do this.’

‘Scotch—’

‘You LEFT.’ My voice echoes across the room, my eyes hot and wet. ‘You left, Kai, and I was awreck.’My hand slaps hard and wet against my chest, my voice rasping. ‘It was humiliating. And you may be healed enough to do. . .whatever the fuck this is, but I’m not. I’m not built this way. I respect whatever we had enough not to dothis.Because this is a dead end. Shallow. And you know it, and maybe that’s why you want it, because there’s no future here. You said it yourself: you’re notbuiltfor long-term relationships. Sorry, but I can’t use my energy this way. I’ve worked way too hard on myself to be distracted by something that is never going to work.’

Malakai looks like he’s about to speak, eyes coruscating with conflicting emotions, the edge of his jaw pulled sharply, before he sniffs and nods. ‘You know what, Kiki, you’re right.’

Right. I am right. I’m so right. It’s not like I wanted him to fight back. Tell me I’m wrong, that actually he wants me, all of me. It’s not like I want him, all of him. This is good.

‘But don’t demonise me for something you were cool with three months ago,’ Malakai continues, steel falling over his eyes like a shield or an axe. ‘It’s better you tell the truth, which is you don’t like who I am, and it worked for you for a time, and now it doesn’t. Now I sully this idea you have of yourself. And that’s cool, Kiki. Really, it is. I just want you to be honest, since you’re the one who talks about truth so much. You never wanted this to work because you never really believed I was more than the fuckboi you first met in uni. Deep down. You know what I think? I think it gave you thrills to think you’d changed me. And it hurt your ego that I was the one who left, not you.’

My breathing becomes shallow with fury, hurt, exposure. My skin smarts. ‘You know what? Thank you for this, Malakai. You really clarified some things for me.’

‘Yeah, likewise, Kiki.’

My eyes narrow, and I’m so hot I feel like the water is steaming around me. I’ve never wished I could hate someone more. I realise in order to storm off I’m going to have to walk up the pool steps virtually naked, which really defangs how serious I am. Nevertheless, I cough and do just that, blood pumping hard in my ears, heart caught just as it was about to fall again, grateful, so grateful, that I stopped myself from being fooled twice.

Chapter 12

The Definition of Insanity

Four years ago