Love, flicker, Burn: Entry 5

Tiide Olufola- Carson

Lagos (The Paris gist)

I was back in my wonderfully hot Lagos. Dara had ordered me to call Lanre, he had gone berserk while I was away searching for me. That made me sad, he deserved better, much better. I should have at least sent him a message to tell him I’d be away. Things were complicated before I left for Barcelona but now things were past complicated, they were now a fusion of convoluted and catastrophic.

I blame the combination of Paris and the rain, but only by a fraction. It didn't help that Ugo was looking so good that day either, more Guerlain intoxication. Plus it WAS Paris!  

That day, I left the lingerie shop and went out to meet Ugo. We had a light lunch on the sixth floor of the galleries and talked for most of the afternoon. We decided to go for a walk since the rain had stopped or so we thought. It had merely lightened into a drizzle. I think Paris got the best of Ugo too. He kissed me under the umbrella, in the light drizzle and I am certain the earth stopped. It felt so familiar and perfect but my Lanre-bone tickled. It was a joke Lanre and I had. He always teased that I had his rib, like how Eve had Adam's. Every time we had a fight, I missed him insanely and usually couldn't eat or sleep, while he went on with life, eating, drinking and happy, we concluded it was the Lanre-bone in me. 

When Ugo pulled back to look at me, he had that look, I had seen it too many times and all Lanre-bone thoughts vaporized. I was secretly grateful for the new lingerie. My heart began to beat wildly. This was wrong. But then again this was Ugo, who I dated for four years, he was in a substantial part of my romance-related memories. More than ever I regretted rebounding with Lanre.  I clearly wasn't over Ugo. He had just simply been out of sight and subsequently out of mind. This situation did not need to escalate. I could contain it. I would tell Ugo that I was seeing someone and it was complicated. Then we could deal with this rationally.

The problem was, my mind had lost the ability to string together a sentence. It was instead filled with the fragrance of the rain and coffee from a near-by cafe. 'Ugo, I can't...', I had to fight for the last eleven months and whatever Lanre and I had left.

Ugo looked intensely at me, that way he looked like he saw my soul, tilted the umbrella a little to the left so that we were standing beneath the drizzle and then kissed me again. This time in a get-a-room-kind of way. Right there beneath the Parisian sky, everything came flooding back. Everything we ever shared or made. All my defenses crashed and I stood there, unable to remember the last time my head swam and my tummy was a butterfly cage. I began to miss the spontaneity and intensity of what we had. Lanre could never kiss me in public. ‎Lanre and I never had sex; either because I was bitter about my breakup with Ugo, or because he was willing to wait. And these were the reasons I did love Lanre but..... 

Ugo hailed a ‎taxi and we got in. 'Rue de Antoine Géroux, 37', I said to the driver.  

As we sped along, Ugo said he thought we should get back together. He said he couldn't find anyone he loved more than me or even remotely like me. The taxi driver glanced at us in the mirror and pretended not to understand English. 

I admit my judgment was a little clouded with all the kisses and the butterflies he had set off in my tummy. This was all I wanted to hear eleven months ago. My heart was throbbing dangerously, I held on to my shopping bags like they were a life line. We got to Camilé’s address. ‘15 Euro’, the driver said, clearly eager to be away from the palpable energy we were generating in his car. 

Ugo paid the driver while I tried to open the door of the apartment complex. We tumbled into the elevator and I hit 5, exploding with excitement and urgency. Ugo hit ‎the red emergency button and pulled me into a kiss. A kiss and some. 

To be continued...

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