Jin takes Sophia for a relaxing date at the Bath Hot Springs, his idea of the perfect date being to pamper and be pampered. They are both even more vulnerable with each other in a way that hasn’t been seen in the season so far. Jin kisses her for the first time on their date, and in a cutaway, Sophia admits she might be falling in love with him. Jin admits in his own cutaway that “[Sophia] is everything.”
Obiora takes Sophia on a hot air balloon date across Oxford. In a shocking turn of events, after Sophia confronts him of being aloof during their date, Obiora confesses to being in love with one of the other bachelors. Sophia takes it in stride, but Obiora is immediately eliminated.
Noah takes Sophia mountain biking down Coed Y Brenin in North Wales, and then they go stargazing along Pembrokeshire’s wild coastline. Their connection deepens as they gaze at the stars, and after their goodnight kiss, Sophia leaves on cloud nine.
Ejiro takes Sophia bungee jumping in Manchester, after which they have an intimate dinner at a high-end restaurant. During a cutaway, Ejiro reveals his connection with Sophia has been affected by Sophia’s ill-advised kiss, and is not sure he can continue on in the competition.
On the night of the Heart Ceremony, Sophia seems to echo his feelings, and Ejiro is then eliminated.
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TWENTY-FOUR
OBIORA MISSED EJIRO SO BADLY it felt like he had heartache. He literally had a fist pressed to his chest like a broken-hearted rake in a historical romance, and even though his heart wasn’t broken, it sure felt like it. He’d forgotten, after so many years since Ada, and then Nicholas, how love could be so intense, so overpowering it sometimes felt like pain.
Before everything that had transpired over the last few weeks, Obiora had thought he’d be leaving the competition hopefully refreshed and no worse for wear, ready to come back to Sheffield and tackle the job his father had gifted him with a new sense of purpose. Those first few days, he had missed home; he’d felt extremely homesick, especially in the nights when he was left alone to his thoughts.
Now, he wondered when his idea of “home” had changed from a place to a person, and how he’d missed it. Because right now, as a cab drove him from his flat to his parents’ place, he should be feeling warm and excited and grounded, but all he could think about was Ejiro. As he’d left the mansion, it felt like he’d left a part of himself behind. That sense of something missing, of displacement, had him feeling strangely untethered.
“That’ll be fourteen pound twenty,” the cabbie said, bringing Obiora out of his thoughts.
His heart began to race. “Great, thanks.” When he’d left the mansion and the hazy fantasy of it all, one of the first decisions he’d made was to come clean to his parents about where he’d been. He hadn’t done it in the first place because he hadn’t wanted them getting their hopes up about him “finally moving on” from Ada, or whatever other misguided notion they had because they loved him and couldn’t stand to see him hurting. But there was no way Obiora was going to be able to look them in the eye and not tell them about Ejiro, the man he loved.
He exited the cab after paying the driver, and made his way up the driveway to the front door of his parents’ slightly less than humble abode. They lived away from the hustle and bustle of the city centre and Sheffield’s rife student life, settled instead in the cosy residential area closer to the outskirts of the town.
When his mother was the one to answer the door, Obiora knew he was probably the first of his brothers to arrive.
“Obim!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. “My son. Ah, I’ve missed you.”
“Nne,” he greeted, his throat feeling thick. The homesickness seemed to hit him from all angles suddenly, as he smelt her familiar perfume and was surrounded by the warmth of their home.
Ifeoma was also speaking in Igbo, her love language. “Come inside, come inside. Ah, I’ve missed you. Look at you.”
He began to blush as she fussed over him, cupping his cheeks and eyeing him from head to toe.
“Obiora, is that you?” That was his father, also speaking in Igbo. He came down the stairs, a wide grin on his face.
“Nna,” Obiora greeted his old man, swallowing to rid the lump in his throat.
“Ah, my son,” Osita said warmly. They hugged. “You’re looking good,” he said when they pulled apart. He gave Obiora the same look his mother had given him, his avid eyes trailing over Obiora’s form appraisingly. It made him feel scraped raw.
His old man nodded with approval after his perusal. “You’re looking healthy.”
“Come, come, sit,” his mother said, urging him into the sitting room. The three of them sat, his parents on the sofa, while Obiora took one of the armchairs. “I made goat meat pepper soup and yam. There’s also egusi, okra, and Jollof, just in case.”
“Mummy,” Obiora chided playfully, even as his chest felt so full it could burst. “You know you didn’t have to do all that.”
“Eh.” She scoffed, waving him off, but she was blushing.
“How was your journey?” His father asked. “Did you sleep well? We’ve missed you.”
“My journey was fine. I slept fine. I missed you, too.” He’d arrived last night, and after updating his friends and family that he was back, he’d immediately gone straight to bed. This morning, it was a given that he’d come over to see his parents first thing.
“How was your …” Ifeoma hesitated, and exchanged a quick glance with Osita. Obiora’s heartbeat quickened. “Your retreat?” she finished.
Wait, what? What was that look about? Obiora looked between them, but their faces gave nothing away.
Before he could open his mouth to answer—to tell the truth—the buzzer for the door went off.
