Church Girl: Couch

Instead of sitting on the couch, he sat on the single seat. Her favorite seat. Through her reading, wild thoughts and TV documentaries, she sees the world from this place, it is her far-seeing place. It is also the same place she nursed all her heartbreaks, and mourned her mother when the floor was too cold. Anyone who sits there has a special place in her heart. He did not know all that. It is the reason why he decided to sit there. He thought the couch was her sanctuary and sitting there would have been intrusive.

She called him from the bedroom. He hesitated. It cannot be that easy, he thought. But went to check anyway. He saw someone peeping through a half open door, with one hand across her chest, holding the towel.

She told him, “make yourself comfortable, I need to take a quick shower, I will be back in a short while.”

“How comfortable?” He asked.

She didn’t hear, she had already locked the door. A door that had seen better days- with mature wood peeping through the chipped paint. He lingered, he wanted to listen to her shower. He leaned on one side towards the door, then heard her open the shower. He imagined her standing looking up into the shower with her eyes closed. Imagined how every drop is hitting her forehead, some flowing to her mane while the rest makes way down. He wanted to jump in.

Back in the sitting room, he changed his mind and sat on the couch. He would later learn that it was an old hand me down couch from her mum who got this seat when she gave birth to her first born baby. It was a sign of triumph for her. She had been told that she will never get a baby, so when she got one, she needed a perfect place to spend the days with her boy; so she got this three seater couch. When her last born daughter said she was moving out, she told her to take the seat. It marked a closed chapter for her. She had done her best to give her babies, the best life she could. By giving her daughter this couch, she was ushering her into a new chapter in a life. A life as a single woman.

She took longer than he had expected until he started dozing off. The previous night he hadn’t slept well and before he left the house, he didn’t manage to get his usual dose of cappuccino. In a few minutes, he was completely asleep.

When she was done showering, she put on sweat pants, a pair of happy socks with leopard prints, and a zip up hoodie, but she didn’t zip it up all the way. When she walked into the sitting room, she found it both amusing and shocking to find him asleep. She expected him to be reading a book. Worse off, he had droll all over her cushion. She thought, no man dares do that in my house! She tapped him on the shoulder. It took him a few minutes to figure out where he was. After taking a nap or a deep sleep, he always wakes up confused.

When he saw a lady, he thought it was a bad joke. He hadn’t taken anyone home in a long while; since he started going to church. Then it hit him he was at the church girl’s house. He said, ‘I am sorry, that shouldn’t have happened.” But she cannot blame him. She was gone for over 20 minutes, enough time for someone to fall asleep. She came back looking radiant. Too fresh to be going to sleep. He thought, I could get used to this sight.

However, he was disappointed that she was now dressed in sweatpants. But he was happy with the plunging neckline. This girl was confusing. You’d expect her to wear lightly when going to bed, but here she is overdressed for what might be a magical night, in his mind.

She came sat next to him, put her legs on the couch that her toes were touching his thighs, pulled the duvet and covered both of them then smiled. He froze. He didn’t know whether to fondle with her toes which were now comfortably lying on the side of his thigh or to move.

Then she asked, “I hope I am not being too intrusive.”

He said, “no, no, in any case I am the one intruding. This is your house. In fact, let me move to the other seat.”

“No, please don’t I like it when you seat next…” She stopped herself. It was the first time there had shared a seat. But she was feeling quite comfortable around him. She didn’t intend to say it, but she did.

“In that case you can as well put your legs on me.” He teased her. She did.

With his hands on her calf, they started chatting the night away. Then randomly, he smiled and asked her, “why did you invite me to your house for the first date?” She was stunned. She didn’t expect that question. “For some reason, I thought you’d say yes. Plus, I had made a pact with my friend that I would go out of my comfort zone to meet more men. She dared me to invite the next man I met to my house. So, when I met you, and we talked and seemed easy going, I decided to try my luck.” She said that with a guilty face.

He was surprised. He felt used. The hunter had become the hunted. This is what he always did. Meet girls, talk to them, excite them, invite them over his place, cook for them, get what he wanted and then repeat. It was like he had a hit list. His boys were awed by how easy he had his way with girls. He wasn’t even wealthy, his looks were just above average and his sense of style was flat, like corn beer. He felt preyed on. He couldn’t believe that this underrated church girl could be this far ahead of the game. In a way, he was impressed.

He then asked her, “what if I had refused to come?”

“I knew you couldn’t. I mean, you are a biker, and bikers are known to be adventurous. But even if you did, I would have just lost the bet and moved on. Besides, I am used to rejection.” She said that in a dejected tone, like someone harboring years of unfulfilled love. Like someone who has this genuine need to be loved. Someone who is now opening herself up to feel a taste of the world of love.

At this point he was stroking her feet. One part of her wished he’d stop, the other part wanted him to continue. Her feet and the small of her back are the most sensitive parts of her body, so, when someone holds her or strokes her feet, her heart beats faster. It is like they have a direct like to her heart. In fact, she considers the two parts private parts. Now here he is stroking her feet and making her feel all manner of emotions.

Sensing that she needed someone genuine love. He felt a tinge of guilt in him. He never felt this way. That part of his life died with his first relationship. A girl he loved broke his heart. He never bothered to mend it. He set out on a path to break hearts. He knew he felt this way because he suspected he will end up breaking her heart.

He is a lover. Knows which boxes to tick. Knows what to say. But he never stays around for long; even with the girls he liked. He always leaves at the height of their connection. He doesn’t know how to be loved. So he runs away when they get too attached. He didn’t want to do this to her.

He knew he liked this girl ever since the first time he saw her ushering in church. But he knew the script so well. Meet someone, be super excited for the first few weeks, get bored, but before he leaves, hit it and move on to the next prey. Sited there stoking her feet, he feared that he would break her heart. And when you break a church girls’ heart, you break the heart of God. Then God breaks you. God had always been gracious to him. Though not the best of Christian, God always smiled at him. He didn’t want to push the boundaries.

She freed her legs from his hands, crossed them, sat in a yoga position, and asked him, “I hope you are not one of those idiots who gets a girl all excited then bolts. Because if you do that, you’d regret taking that bulletin from me that day.” He was surprised. She didn’t look the firm time. She looked like a push-over. He smiled, and because he had mastered the art, he asked her, “what happens if you are one of those girls who makes a guy chase you only to tell them you thought they were being friendly and you and your boyfriend got back together?” They both laughed. He had done that countless times and she had done that, once or twice.

It was now 11pm. He said he wanted to leave. He had an early morning engagement the following morning.

She asked him, “why so early?”

“You didn’t tell me you wanted me to move in with you.’ He said. Then stood up.

She stood up, zipped up her hoodie, and gave him a tight hug. Before they could let go, his hands trailed her back, as if tracing her spine, then landed on the small of her back and lingered there for a while. He had ventured into private land again. She thought, this man knew his way with her.

She leaned forward a bit and whispered, “yes, you can move in, but only if you intend to stay. Because I have a reviewed my policy to at least six months.”

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