We kissed.

A rare encounter(a short story).

Jul 17, 2025

*****

I thought I was in my soft girl era? nahh. I was having an “it’s all gonna work out” kinda year. I had a good job, with an insatiable boss and a steady income.

I was doing it. I was figuring things out.

I was going on dates with strange men with weird kinks, pursuing my writing career, working, coming home late on one of those “TGIF” days, exhausted.

Barely eating even when I was on a diet, sleeping by 2am, hanging out with my girls when they visited with loaded fries and pizza and I was probably feeling too lonely (my mild bipolar episodes)

Whenever I missed mum too much. I would pack my bags and head back to Abuja.

I wasn’t complaining. What more would a chill girl ask for? I was 27 craving love and cuddles.

I wanted to tell my own love story. I wanted to fall head over heels for someone and run away with them to Malibu.

I wanted to stay curled on my bed with my man watching “to all the boys I’ve loved before” when it’s pouring heavily outside even tho I wasn’t putting myself out there.

I told myself I was okay with the love songs, the couple reels, the dusty romance novels stacked on my shelf.

It was enough. Maybe it was enough. Maybe it wasn’t.

*****

Everything was perfect I guess until my new crush.

He moved in weeks ago.

Well-built, dark chocolate. Oddly quiet and calm. Lights out around 9pm. Wasn’t a people person. I had no idea if he was married, he looked like he was perfectly fine living alone in his late 40’s.

He rarely smiled and he always smelt like spice and cedar wood.

One tiring cold night. After spending hours proofreading the manuscripts that was sent to me via email.

I decided to stay up a little and read a short romance I came across on substack when I heard a knock on the door.

It was him. Towering over me like my guardian angel. His gaze was soft and kind, like he didn’t mean to bother me.

“Sorry I just figured that we’ve barely spoken…I just enjoy my space. Can I get your number tho incase of anything? I mean I felt I should have my neighbors number”

“I am Tobi by the way”

He kept stammering and straightening his shoulders like he was trying so hard to come out of his hard shell.

I noticed his eyes on me, I was avoiding his gaze and blushing inwardly. First impressions matter right? I had to maintain my diva composure.

So I gave him the number and bid him goodnight.

It didn’t take weeks for him to start opening up to me a little. All it took was a quick glance, greetings, a few compliments like “you smell nice” some silence and little awkwardness here and there.

This really wasn’t my style but this man was really good looking. I was dazed and sucked in by his lazy advances.

He was sweet-tempered. His energy greatly augmented my curiosity and men like him weren’t really my type.

And yeah I wanted love but not with someone older than me. I knew my type. I knew what I wanted. And it wasn’t him.

And they say love sneaks up on you sometimes with blindfolds. Mine came with several layers.

Tobi was a widower. His wife passed years ago. He said she died of a heart condition. I felt bad for the poor man. He lost someone who meant the world to him.

I wondered what he would have been like if she were still alive. People change when life forces them too.

He was a man of few words. He only talked when he needed to.

We slowly graduated from neighbors to something we both couldn’t explain. We had no idea what we were to each other but we valued the shared space and kindness.

He knew exactly the things I wanted to hear, I mean when do they not. I didn’t know if he’s sweetest words were spoken; out of love or out of boredom.

I couldn’t feel up the spaces his memories were eating into. All I did was linger. Be there for him when he didn’t even need me. I tried not to push through his boundaries.

My feelings for him intensified. I didn’t want to scare him off. It wasn’t pity. I really just enjoyed his company and weird humor.

I hated to be in that mood, where nothing felt wrong but nothing felt right either. He was still moving on from his past. And I was just a girl he was getting to know. His neighbor.

But he was just one of those people that slowly grow on you. Nothing feels complicated, everything just feels mild and gentle. That connection that feels surreal, unplanned and refreshing.

They just bring simplicity and meaning into our lives. The whispered affections, the littlest handshake and thoughtful gestures. Their presence even.

I started making up excuses. I would wait for him to leave for work first before heading out.

It continued repeatedly till he came knocking again.

“Are you busy”

Really? Well I was going to say “my response depends on the details you’re about to share” but no! I saw myself behaving foolishly and ended up saying

“No”

He didn’t even let me finish and walked into the house.

“You’ve been avoiding me, why?”

He sounded angry but his eyes were saying something completely different. He missed me too much and just wanted to talk to me.

“I’m not I’ve just been busy, I’m sorry and I’ve missed you”

I said almost audibly. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was nervous and confused on what to say next.

He walked over to where I was standing, close enough that I could feel his breath on my forehead.

“What did you say?”

“I said…I” ajeh I don’t know why I was stammering, but I was close to not knowing my alphabets.

“Look at me and talk Julia ” he said faintly but loud enough for me to hear

“I said I mis…I missed you”

I couldn’t breathe again. I knew when my father passed, I wouldn’t have sense again. A diva like me! Folding apart over a man.

Before I knew what was happening he kissed me. And I responded.

We kissed.

It was deliberate, it carried care. It spoke pain, loss, and a fresh start, it was adventurous.

He tasted like red wine and I probably tasted like lipgloss.

It was a hunger we both couldn’t quiet, a fire only him could ignite. It wasn’t want. It was need.

It was temptation wrapped in elegance. Softness with a wild edge.

We got lost in our world. Ripping off each other’s clothes like we were both searching for something we’ve buried in ourselves.

I grabbed unto him tightly like I wouldn’t be able to heal him if I didn’t.

It wasn’t cuddles and Netflix. It was soul searching. It was two souls unraveling each other.

After the sweats and gasps. We had wine. He wore my favorite hoodie. And we laughed and talked about the silliest things.

It was enough

I was never going to replace her. Her picture will always be hidden away in his old jeans down in the basement.

He would always blank out once in a while wishing she was still by his side.

I would be his sunrise. His breath of fresh air. A reminder that life was still beautiful. His distraction. His strength if it ever came back harder on rainy days.

I wanted to be that love that kissed his thoughts, memorized the stories in his eyes. I wanted to run my hands through the daydreams we haven’t lived yet and call them home.

He deserved to be watered selfishly.

A love that’s quiet and soft.

His peace.

That’s when I realized I was far gone. i didn’t want to be saved. I was head over heels in love with Mr Tobi.

I lingered.

If I perish I perish.