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HomeInkwrit Short StoriesRomanceJOANNE A ROMANCE STORY THAT WILL CAPTIVATE YOU (PT 5)

JOANNE A ROMANCE STORY THAT WILL CAPTIVATE YOU (PT 5)

A ROMANCE STORY THAT WILL CAPTIVATE YOU

“Tunde, you shouldn’t have,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I gazed upon his contrite countenance.

His features were illuminated by the soft glow of my car’s headlight.

Sinking to one knee, his eyes pleaded for forgiveness. “I’ve erred grievously, Joanne. I’ve failed to treat you with the respect and devotion you deserve.”

My hands previously still instinctively reached for his, as if drawn by an unseen force.

“I’m sorry” he said.

“Finally, a befitting conclusion”, I mused, a sense of closure washing over me.

Yet, our tender moment was short-lived as C-Note burst onto the scene, his hands clutching a rival bouquet of daffodils.

“Mi amor, forgive me!” he exclaimed, his mood wild with desperation. “I followed you back as soon as I was bailed from the station. Honestly I didn’t mean to act so stupid earlier.”

Tunde’s expression now tinged with unease as he rose to his feet. “What’s happening here?” he inquired.

I attempted to extricate myself from the unfolding drama but C-Note remained resolute. “Joanne, I swear I don’t know Kwame Afua from Adam. Ask Maria. Heck! I have changed since I met you. Please don’t end things like this.”

I shook my head, a gesture of finality as I implored him, “Return to your sister, C-Note. I am done with all these dramas.”

His grasp on my elbow tightened but Tunde intervened, his hand encircling C-Note’s wrist as well.

“Hands off my girl” he commanded, his tone firm with audacity.

“Your girl?” C-Note’s hands shrunk from me as if scorched. “Wait! Wait! Wait! So, you’re a whore Joanne?”

His words dripped with venom but I raised my hands to strike him only to be stayed by Tunde’s firm grasp. “He’s not worth it”, his muscles flexed as he drew me back.

Thus far, I refused to let C-Note depart with the notion that he had triumphed over me. “You’re a coward C”, I retorted. “Your sole purpose in life is to rely on your father’s money to bolster your lackluster singing career. You should be ashamed of yourself……”

His countenance suddenly fell at the completion of my statement. Retreating a step aback he abandoned the daffodils at my gate without a word or regret.

As I quickly reached for my phone, Maria’s name sprang to my lips but she preempted me, her call arriving with uncanny timing.

“Ah, Maria,” I interjected, a hint of trepidation in my voice. “C-Note just left my place.”

Her giggle, a mere whisper belied her true state.

“I’m sorry”, the past hour flashed before me casting a worried glance at Tunde.

“I’m at Grillo’s,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of desperation.

“Maria what are you doing there? Don’t you dare do anything stupid?”, I warned hastening to retrieve my car keys. But alas, I remained unsafe of the unfolding drama.

“Who is that guy that brought the flowers?” Tunde asked, his curiosity offended.

“Not now,” I responded brushing my lips against his in a warm kiss. “Get those fine abs in the car.”

“What happened to your windshield?” His gaze was suddenly fixed upon the shattered pane as he settled into the front seat.

“I swear I’ll explain later,” I answered, my tone communicating urgency as I hastened to reach Maria before her drinking calamity ensue.

On approaching my drive through, a familiar figure stood before us, her eyes wide with timidity.

“Sweet Jesus,” I shouted, my heart racing as I beheld Mrs. Afua pale and drawn. “Maa did I hit you?” I stammered, my voice trembling with concern.

“No, my child,” she apologized. “The thing is I haven’t seen Kwame since this afternoon. Did you know where he might be?”

I immediately feigned ignorance, my mind murmuring the implications. “Did you try calling him?” my tone slowly measured.

“Yes,” she sniveled. “They are saying he’s unreachable.”

I sighed, opening the rear door with a sense of foreboding. “Enter Maa”, I bid her as the skies above us unleashed a torrent of rain.

Tunde’s eyes locked onto mine again filled with a deeper understanding.

“What’s the matter?” he asked gently.

Mrs. Afua’s gaze narrowed, squinting her wide eyes with suspicion. “Hello, Tunde,” she greeted. “How many months is the baby?”

I stifled a gasp, my hand trembling on the wheel as Tunde threw a cold mirthless laugh.

“Two months ma,” he replied, that irony in every word.

We all guffawed as Grillo loomed before us. I steeled myself for the trials ahead knowing that my words had unwittingly drawn Maria back into the abyss of her addiction. Yet I remained calm because friendship can overcome even the most daunting of challenges, right?

The wrath however of the woman in the back seat was a different matter altogether. This birthday indeed had become a hellish ordeal.


Liked this story and want to read something similar click on the link to read Will you stop,” a flash fiction fantasy and join our WhatsApp group to receive latest story alert and be part of a bubbling community of readers and storytellers

 

WolfGang
WolfGang
Fantasy short story writer
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