As soon as I stepped off the plane at Murtala Muhammed International Airport, the humidity wrapped me like a thick damp shroud. The air was thick with the familiar, dusty chill of Harmattan, and I could almost taste Christmas in the dryness and the cool that nipped at my cheeks. It had been five years since I left Nigeria. I had promised myself I wouldn’t return. Yet here I was, back for Christmas, with my suitcase stuffed with chocolates and branded T-shirts for the unavoidable relatives, a sleek, polished wristwatch for my Dad, and a gleaming beige Chanel handbag for my Mum. My suitcase was overflowing with Christmas presents, yet my heart felt oddly empty. Coming back only unearthed memories I’d much rather leave buried.
I smiled as I entered the arrival hall, where my parents awaited me. My mother’s excited figure caught my eye. Her face lit up with joy, and I felt my heart swell. She raced toward me, arms outstretched, and enveloped me in a tight embrace.
“Oko mi! How have you been?” she exclaimed.
“You look pale. Haven’t you been eating well?” Her voice laced with concern.
“Let’s at least get home before you start interrogating the poor child,” my dad chimed in, his tone playful yet warm. He looked leaner, with grey hair speckling his beard.
“Mum, Dad, it’s so good to be finally home. I missed you so much,” I replied, my voice catching slightly as I stepped back to take in their familiar faces.
“Let’s go. I’ve prepared your favourite meal!” my mum squealed with excitement.
******
Our street hadn’t changed much. As we drove in, I caught a glimpse of a man wrestling with a hose in his front yard, his little girl giggling as she tried to help him. He wore a black T-shirt with an inscription I couldn’t quite make out. His pale green shorts hugged his well-toned thighs. I swallowed hard, unable to look away from how fit he looked. When he looked up just as we passed, our eyes met and my heart did a strange little skip. There was something about the way his eyes met mine that made my breath catch. There was a quick flutter in my stomach that I couldn’t ignore. My skin prickled, and for a split second, I felt warmth spread across my cheeks.
“He’s the new neighbour,” my mom said as we drove into our compound, catching the direction of my gaze. “He moved in with his daughter a few months ago. Lost his wife a couple of years back. Such a nice man.” Her tone was soft and sympathetic. I brushed off the strange flutter in my chest and focused on unpacking, determined not to dwell on anyone who might complicate my life again.
The next morning, I spotted him again as I headed out to the balcony to enjoy the quiet air. This time, he was on his porch, setting up a small playground, his daughter trailing behind him, her tiny hand clutching a worn-out teddy bear. I hesitated but then decided to be friendly. I waved, a small gesture, and to my surprise, he waved back, a warm smile spreading across his face. Moments later, he was walking over, his daughter skipping behind him.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. Up close, he was even more striking. Tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and a defined chest, his dark skin glowed under the sun. He has dark brown eyes, framed by thick eyebrows, and his strong jawline was softened by a neatly groomed beard. A pair of cute lips, full yet subtly defined, curved into a gentle smile, revealing the dimples just a few inches below those succulent juicy lips. What is wrong with me? It then occurred to me that I had not responded to his greetings.
“Good morning,” I finally replied, trying to keep my composure. “I’m Adetoun.”
“Femi,” he said, extending his hand. “And this little one is Teniola.”
Teniola peered at me shyly from behind her father’s leg, her big brown eyes curious. I smiled and waved at her, feeling a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. Femi chatted easily, sharing stories about his daughter and the adjustments they had made since moving in. It was effortless, talking to him. It felt like two friends reconnecting rather than strangers meeting for the first time.
Femi and I fell into a natural routine as the days went by. Every morning, I’d find him on his porch, and we’d exchange smiles and a few words that somehow always left me feeling lighter. Sometimes, he’d invite me to join him and Teniola for a stroll in the neighbourhood. Other times, he’d drop by in the evenings, casually leaning against my parents’ gate, and we’d chat about anything and everything.
On Christmas Eve, my parents decided to host a small gathering, and I couldn’t help but invite Femi and Teniola. My mom prepared her famous jollof rice and chicken, and we set up the living room with twinkling lights and a large Christmas tree decorated with colourful ornaments.
When Femi arrived, Teniola’s eyes widened in delight at the sight of the decorations. She bounced over to the tree, her laughter ringing through the room. “Wow, dad look!” she exclaimed, reaching for a bright red ornament.
“Easy there, my little explorer.” Femi said with a chuckle as he helped her. The joy on his face made my heart swell.
Dinner was lively. Femi got on well with my parents. It was clear how much they adored him. After dinner, we settled into the living room, where my mom suddenly said, “Toun, I forgot to mention that your father and I will be heading to church for Christmas Eve.”
“Oh, let me get dressed. I’ll come with you!” I replied eagerly.
“No, no, no… We have a guest,” she said, her tone playful. “You have to entertain him. Teni, would you like to go to church with Grandma and Grandpa?”
“Yessss!” Teni squealed, jumping up with excitement. My mom wore a mischievous smile, and I immediately recognized her plan. She shot me a wink.
“Don’t worry, Femi. Teni is in safe hands,” my mom assured him.
“Oh, it’s fine, ma,” he replied, his bright smile radiating warmth. “Teni, be a good girl, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy!” she beamed. With that, they left, and I suddenly felt nervous.
“My mom is unbelievable,” I said, shaking my head. Femi laughed, and I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. He wore a blue shirt with a few buttons undone, revealing his toned chest muscles. ‘Get a grip, Toun,’ I chastised myself.
“Well, it worked. We needed some time to ourselves, and with Teni around, that’s been nearly impossible,” he said, and I couldn’t agree more.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he added softly, and I felt a rush of warmth. This guy was stirring something inside me. I must have been love-starved because he made such little effort with grand effects. I wore a carefully selected black gown that hugged my curves in all the right places. So, the dress was scoring me points.
“You don’t look bad yourself,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light while my heart raced.
Femi’s expression suddenly got serious. “I want to know more about you, Adetoun. Tell me everything.”
I hesitated but felt an undeniable urge to open up. “I left Nigeria five years ago after my marriage fell apart. My ex- husband was unfaithful and even had a child outside our marriage.” My voice wavered as I spoke, recalling the pain of that chapter in my life.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and I could see the empathy in his gaze. “You deserve so much better.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, my heart swelling. “But I’m better now. Or at least, I’m trying to be.”
He nodded, a quiet understanding passing between us. “I lost my wife two years ago,” he shared, his voice just as soft. “Breast cancer. She was… she was everything to me. Teniola barely remembers her mom. It breaks my heart sometimes.”
“That’s really sad. I’m so sorry for your loss. How are you holding up? Raising a child all by yourself must be overwhelming.”
“Yes, it is. But I’m learning, I guess. No matter how hard I try to give my all to Teni, there’s always a void. She needs a mother. I can’t fill that void. I will never be enough for her.”
“She loves you, and she knows you would do anything for her. That is more than enough.” I said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Femi looked over at me, his eyes filled with an emotion that felt new. “I never thought I’d feel this way again,” he said softly. “You’ve made this Christmas unforgettable.”
My heart raced, every nerve in my body tingling. His gaze held mine, filled with a vulnerability that mirrored my own. And in that moment, I knew. I knew he was breaking down the walls I had built so carefully around my heart.
“This is the happiest I have been in a long time,” I admitted, my voice trembling.
He reached up, brushing aside a stray strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. As he leaned in, the warmth of his breath mingled with mine, creating a tantalizing tension. Our lips met softly at first, a tentative exploration that quickly ignited into something deeper and more urgent. His mouth moved against mine, coaxing and teasing as if he were savouring every moment. I could taste the sweetness of the wine on his lips, and the world around us faded away. He pulled me closer, his hands slipping around my waist, pressing our bodies together. Time stood still, and nothing else mattered.
All I could hear was the soft tune of “Silent Night” playing on the radio, and all I felt was a sense of peace. I knew that no matter where life took us, this December would always be one to remember.
