Unavoidably Yours.

Chapter Nine: "A promise is a promise."

ENITAN

By half past six, the frenzied energy of the standard workday has completely evaporated. One by one, the fluorescent panels overhead blink out as people log off. The junior analysts cleared out twenty minutes ago, rushing to beat the worst of the evening traffic, and the audit team abandoned their corner shortly after.

Even the cleaning crew has started making slow, methodical laps around the perimeter of the building, the faint rustle of trash bags echoing in the background.

Enitan is still staring at the exact same spreadsheet.

A familiar, dull ache has settled firmly between her eyes, and her laptop screen glows back at her like an accusation. Three browser tabs remain open: two conflicting valuation reports and an email from one high-net-worth client who clearly views project deadlines as a suggestion.

Her phone vibrates against the desk. She ignores it, tracking a row of formula errors. A minute later, it vibrates again.

This time she glances down, her eyes catching the name on the lock screen. A soft smile touches her lips before she can think to stop it.

Kitan:

What time do you people actually close?

She frowns slightly, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Enitan:

I don’t get. We as how?

Kitan:

What time do you close from work?

Enitan:

Why?

The response arrives almost before she can lock the device.

Kitan:

Because I have been downstairs for thirty minutes and literally everybody else appears interested in going home except you.

Enitan sits up straight, her chair creaking in the quiet office.

Enitan:

Downstairs where?

Kitan:

Where else? Your office.

She stares blankly at the screen. She types out a response, deletes it, and types again.

Enitan:

I have so many questions. Why are you here? Why didn’t you call to tell me you had gotten here?

Kitan:

One, I promised you dinner. And for your other questions, I didn’t want to disturb you in case you were busy.

She shakes her head, a helpless grin taking over her face.

Enitan:

Give me five minutes.

Kitan:

I’ve already given you thirty.

Enitan:

Five more, please.

Kitan:

Fine. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.

Enitan:

Or what? Lmao. Anyway, thank you.

Kitan:

Don’t thank me yet. Just do fast and come.

***********

Ten minutes later, Enitan is strutting through the semi-empty building lobby. Only the security desk remains occupied, the guard offering a familiar nod as she walks past.

She spots Kitan almost immediately. His car is parked beneath the bright glow of one of the overhead compound lights.

He is leaning against the driver’s door, looking down at his phone. Sleeves rolled up. Tie gone. The top button of his shirt undone. For a man who had spent most of the afternoon being tortured by tuxedo fittings, he looked surprisingly relaxed.

He looks up as she approaches. “There she is.”

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” she says.

“It’s fine. A promise is a promise.” He stretches over to open the passenger door for her.

Only after she settles into the cool leather seat does she notice the brown takeaway bags resting in the back. “Wait. You actually bought food?”

His hand flies dramatically to his chest. “What do you take me for? Considering the day you’ve most likely had, I figured this was a better choice than dragging you to sit at a restaurant.” He reaches back and passes one of the containers over.

The rich, savory aroma of an assortment of grilled proteins and spices is enough to make her stomach betray her with a loud rumble. It is slightly embarrassing, mostly because she suddenly realizes she hasn’t had a proper meal since noon.

Kitan frowns, turning his head to look directly at her. “When last did you eat, madam?”

She carefully pops the lid of the container. “I don’t think you will like the answer that question, boss”

“Is your health a joke to you? One of these days, you will actually pass out.”

Enitan just laughs, too happy about the food to argue.

“So, you have two options,” Kitan says, turning the key in the ignition. “Option one: we sit here in the parking lot, eat, and gist, after which you drive home. Option two: I drive behind you to your place, hand over the food, and let you change into something comfortable so you can eat in peace.”

Enitan doesn’t even hesitate. “Option two. Definitely option two. I need to get out of these clothes. Plus, these shoes,” she points down at the stilettos on her feet, “are killing me.”

“I thought babes always carry slippers in their bags to change into?”

“I have slippers in my car, to be fair. But I try not to ever need them.”

“Mama the mama,” he hails her, a grin breaking across his face.

As she reaches for the door handle, Kitan stops her. “Wait. Where are you parked?”

“Just over by the annex side,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the darker edge of the compound. “It’s not that far.”

Kitan shifts the car into gear. “Slide back in. I’ll drive you to your car.”

“Kitan, it’s literally a two-minute walk,” she says, laughing.

“And you are not stressing yourself on my watch. Sit down, abeg.”

She pulls the door shut with an amused roll of her eyes as he navigates the short distance across the lot. He pulls up right alongside her sedan, his headlights illuminating her driver’s side.

Enitan pops her door open and steps out, but before she makes a move toward her own car, she turns back and leans against his open window with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Or should we race to the house? Last person to get there is a goat.”

Kitan looks at her, his expression instantly shifting into comical mortification. “Do you have a death wish? Because if you do, you can confide in me o. You want us to race where? On Lagos roads? At night?” He shakes his head, completely baffled. “No sense of self-preservation at all. Is this how you casually play with your life?”

Enitan bursts out laughing. “Oya, no vex. I’ll see you at the house.”

“Drive safely,” he grumbles, though a small smile threatens the corner of his lips.

He doesn’t put his car in drive or move an inch. He just waits, keeping his headlights trained on her until she unlocks her door, settles inside, and starts her ignition. Only when her taillights flare to life does he shift into gear to follow her out of the gate.

*********

Twenty-five minutes later, Kitan pulls up right behind her car in the driveway of her apartment block. He kills his engine, grabs the food bags, and meets her at the entrance.

As she unlocks the front door, the stress of the day finally settles into her limbs. She turns around to take the containers from him, but as he hands them over, he clears his throat lightly.

“Thank you, Eni,” he says softly.

She looks up, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “For what?”

“For today. I really don’t want to imagine what it would have been like if you didn’t show up to rescue me.”

Enitan lets out a soft laugh. “Anytime, Kit Kat. But I’m sure you would have survived.”

What she doesn’t say is that she would have dropped everything to come, even if he hadn’t begged.

She looks at the brown bags in her hand, then at him standing under the porch light, looking equally exhausted. It feels wrong to just send him back empty-handed.

“You know... there’s too much food here for one person anyway. And I’m almost sure you haven’t eaten either. Come in, let’s just eat it together.”

Kitan hesitates for a fraction of a second before a grateful smile touches his face. “Yeah? Alright. Thanks.”

***************

While Kitan sets the food on the dining table, Enitan disappears into her bedroom to change. When she returns, she has switched into an oversized vintage t-shirt and sweatpants. Her bone straight wig is off, leaving her hair in neat, simple cornrows, her face completely wiped clean of makeup.

They eat straight out of the containers, a random sitcom playing softly in the background that neither of them is actually watching. They talk about everything and nothing, slipping back into the effortless sync they’ve shared for years.

Eventually, Kitan pushes his container aside and checks his watch. He lets out a slow breath and stands up. “Let me not keep you up any longer. You’ve had a crazy long day.”

Enitan rises with him, walking him toward the front door. “Yeah. Tomorrow is going to be another battle with the Greenfield board.”

“You’ll crush it,” he says, turning around at the threshold.

They stand in the small entryway, the space suddenly feeling a little smaller than it did a moment ago.

Kitan looks down at her, taking in the soft line of her jaw and the casual, undone look of her hair in the dim porch light. Enitan catches him watching her, her breath hitching slightly as the easy banter evaporates, leaving a strange, charged static between them.

Kitan clears his throat, breaking the spell, though his eyes linger for a beat longer. “Goodnight, Eni.”

“Goodnight, Kit,” she murmurs, offering a soft smile. “Drive safely.”

He nods and steps out, and she closes the door, leaning her back against the wood for a few seconds, wondering why her heart is suddenly beating a little faster.

She is in the kitchen rinsing out the dining plates when her phone buzzes on the counter. She picks it up.

Kitan:

Check your front door.

Enitan frowns in confusion. She walks back to the entrance, turns the lock, and pulls the door open.

Sitting right on her welcome mat is a brown cardboard box, topped with a smaller, distinctively deep purple carton.

She gasps, recognizing the Ribena packaging instantly as she drops to her knees to inspect it. Inside the box is a bulk pack of the classic, old-school Cheeseballs, the exact ones from secondary school that had long been replaced by the newer ones in circulation.

A massive, breathless laugh escapes her. She grabs the stash, locks the door, and rapidly begins typing a text before realizing he’s probably driving. Abandoning the message, she hits his name and presses the phone to her ear.

Kitan answers on the first ring.

“You actually found them!” Enitan squeals, her voice full of pure, unadulterated glee as she cradles the Cheeseballs in her arm. “Oh my gosh, where did you even find the old ones? I can’t believe this!”

Even without seeing him, she can practically hear the triumphant grin stretching across his face over the line.

“I told you,” Kitan says, his deep voice laced with amusement. “A promise is a promise. I had to pull a few favors at a wholesale store in Surulere.”

“You are actually insane,” she laughs.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says softly. “Now, go to bed, please. You’ve had a long day.”

“Thank you, Kit Kat. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The line goes dead, and Enitan stands in her living room, looking down at the red and yellow packaging with a smile that she knows isn’t going to fade anytime soon.

---

Author’s Note: What was your favourite part from this chapter? It was so sweet to write.🥹

Catch up: Chapter one, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, and Chapter Eight.

See you next week Monday.🫶🏽