Page 50 of Two’s Better

I wanted to kiss her, now and always. Just because.

“Thank you for this,” she said earnestly.

“You’re very welcome.” I closed the laptop, using the brief moment to get my head back in the game. I thought about moving the device but remembered the other half of my plan and left it between us, balanced on my left thigh and her right. “So. You ready to talk about it?”

She sighed, resting her head against the wall. I mirrored her pose, taking my eyes off her so she wouldn’t feel pressured.

“My father also called,” I admitted, just in case it’d make it easier. “So, I kind of get the gist.”

“Right. Yeah. So. Yeah. I’m assuming he told you about our updated career paths?”

“Yup.”

“Right. Anyway. So. He just—he laid the whole plan out and was waiting for my acceptance, and I just couldn’t do it.” I fished for her hand in the space between us, holding it lightly. She slid her fingers between mine, and inhaled again. “He was very upset, Uzi.”

My heart ached for her. “I’m so sorry, Fure. Did he ... say anything?”

“Not really. I think he was in shock. He just ... ended the call.”

“Right.” I tried to look on the bright side. “Give him some time, all right? Like I said before, he’s not an unreasonable man. Sure, he’s upset right now, but he won’t be upset forever. He’ll take some space to calm down, then I’m sure he’ll call you again. But! Before then ...” I grabbed my laptop and flipped it open again, then clicked on my browser. I had the settings saved so any tabs I left open when I closed it automatically came up when I re-opened it.

“What’s happening right now?” Ofure asked, her eyes flying over the tabs.

“We’re brainstorming,” I replied, flashing her a grin.

“Brainstorming?”

“Yup. I did some research after you told me you wanted to quit, but you weren’t sure what you did want to do. So, here are a few options. Obviously, you don’t have to pick from the list I’ve made, but I thought we could get a head start.”

“Uzi.” She sounded overwhelmed.

“You’re welcome,” I said cheekily, grinning when she laughed softly. “So. First up, we have Culinary Arts, or something food related.” She loved cooking and was amazing at it, so this seemed like a no-brainer.

So colour me surprised when she said, “Oh, fuck no.”

I blinked.

She laughed a little. “Sorry for the dramatics. But—that was the first thing I thought of, too. I don’t know how to explain why I’m not interested; you’re an only child, plus, no offense, but you’re a guy, and I don’t know if you’ll get it.”

I shifted around to face her, smirking slightly. “No offense taken. Now, try me.”

She exhaled. “Ever since I was a kid, even before my brothers were born, my life has been spent in the kitchen. I’m not—I’m not saying this to paint my mother as a bad person, but she’s basically been raising me to be a good little housewife. I cleaned, I cooked, I washed, I ironed. Which, fine. I was the first born, so I thought it was my due. But as my brothers had gotten older”—she and her triplet siblings were five years apart—“I’d naively thought the same rules would apply to them. It did not. I kept on cleaning the house, by myself—their rooms included—washing their clothes, making breakfast, lunch, dinner and fucking snacks when they demanded it that one day, I just snapped.

“Why were they allowed to sleep in and do basically nothing to keep the house functioning, but when it came to me, it was suddenly my duty? That was the moment the feminist in me was born, by the way.” I laughed a little, knowing she’d meant me to. “It was only after we came abroad that I started to love cooking; before then, it has only ever felt like a chore. And I really don’t want to taint that by turning it into a career. Besides, my mother and I had a whole fight about this; I can’t let her think she was right when she said homemaking was every woman’s true calling.”

I snorted. Then I dramatically closed the tab. “Okay. Nothing homemaking related, then. What about a business degree?” That was what Dayo was doing. With a business degree, she’d at least have the option of becoming an entrepreneur at anything of her choosing when we go back home.

Ofure wrinkled her nose. She made an indecisive noise. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Right. We’ll put a pin in that.” I decided to bring out the big guns. “What about art in general?”

Only the fact that I knew her so well made me notice the minute change in her expression; her eyes widened slightly, her lower lip pursing. I immediately dug my claws in.

“Yes?” I pushed. “You look like you might want that.”

Her eyes dropped to our joined hands. “I ... I mean ...” Her voice was so thick with longing it made my own heart ache.

“The entire reason you’re in this predicament is because of your love for art. And your general creativity, of course. So, why not just remove the technical aspect and just do that?”