Githinji’s posture was that of a snake oil salesman about to meet his biggest client. The lines on his grey suit could cut a fly. The ostentatious oak he sat on scintillated the light rays as the sun shone on the handle. Nyanda was late and not in a fashionable way. As the minutes ran by he recounted the designer dresses, spa visits and random shopping trips that happened on his watch.
Some would have said that Nyanda was high maintenance but he didn’t see it that way, she just contracted a mild case of dyslexia when she was being taught of the word budget. She could certainly spell the word, but the concept had been lost on her. Probably sold out with her old furniture. That’s why this year he was starting an argument with her a week before and making up a week after. She could sit home and mop as he planned an exit strategy.
It would start with a few off comments about her blog and the argument would practically build itself over the next few days. He sighed. When had he become so whipped? What hold did this woman have over him?
The answer came in the form of the scent of fresh oranges and lime wafting into his nose. He turned and saw her signing a book at the door. For some reason, he was always filled with the images of a forest after it rained when he imagined her.
She sat down and flashed a bright white smile that contrasted against her onyx black features.
“Nyanda,” he started, he even poured out a glass of sparkling water for her.
She smiled at his small courtesies. It was a year of dating and he still bit his lower lip when a gaze of approval was shot at him. What madness was he thinking? She deserved nothing but his best but reason reeled his heart in. His restaurant needed his best too.
“Githinji, I’ll cut to the chase. I think we should see other people.” Nyanda said.
“What?” The look on his face could have become a meme.
“I just don’t think we fit together, you know. We just don’t see life the same way but I hope we can still be friends.” She pushed her chair close to his and took a final picture. She smiled like a model while he had the look of someone who’d just been mugged.
“But I’ll still see you. In two week’s time.”
“for the reservations you made. Me and my new man we wanted to celebrate Valentine’s somewhere special and since you’re such a good cook, In fact, the best chef in the city. I thought we’d enjoy a dinner at your restaurant. I hope it won’t make things awkward. Don’t worry though, I know we’re done. He’ll pay for everything.”