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I held up a hand and interrupted his protest. "If you want a huge reception, I get the quiet wedding at your apartment."
"Oh, all right." He smiled at me. "But no scrimping on the reception. I insist."
When the time came for me to take a taxi to the airport, my father insisted I take the limo service. I agreed and said goodbye to Elaine, who had tears in her eyes, before bending down to kiss my father's forehead. I felt so close to tears, I had to bite my lip to stop from sobbing out loud. Now that it was time to leave, I regretted agreeing to go so soon for he still looked so frail. But his words about relationships made sense to me. Drake was my future. My father would be there, too, but in the background. I had to put Drake first and make a life with him.
Drake had to be my priority now.
My flights were a blur of sleep and brief bursts of activity as I changed planes. The connecting flight to Nairobi was thirty minutes late, meaning I'd get home in the late afternoon. I figured Drake would be working late and so I'd be able to surprise him, waiting for him when he returned late that night.
Once I disembarked and retrieved my luggage, I called Jomo and waited for him to pick me up and take me home. It meant I had to wait an extra ten minutes, but I didn’t care. I wanted to give Jomo the business and ensure he kept loyal to Drake and me for our stay in Nairobi. He had always been so nice and helpful, and I trusted him.
We drove up to the house at around four in the afternoon and I was surprised to see Drake's car in the driveway. There appeared to be more cars than normal on the street bordering our house, and I wondered what was going on that made the neighborhood so busy.
I walked up to the house, my plans to surprise Drake when he arrived home from work changing to surprising him when he was at home and not expecting me. When I walked up to the front door, I saw it was open. Through the opening, I was able to see Sam standing in the entry, a black suitcase in her hand. She was wearing casual clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, and her hair was up in a ponytail. She looked completely relaxed and at home – in my home. In Drake's and my home.
She saw me and a strange expression came over her face.
"What are you doing here?" she said, her voice surprised. "I mean, you're back," she added.
I stared at her, my eyes moving from her face to the suitcase she held in her hand. A wash of adrenaline flowed through me and my knees wobbled a bit. I felt like lunging at her, smacking her across the face.
“Yes, I’m back. What are you doing here?”
She frowned and glanced back inside before turning to me. “How could you do this to Drake? I knew you were wrong for him when I heard about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you loved him, you wouldn’t do this to him. You don’t understand what it means to be a surgeon.”
“I’m not wrong for Drake,” I said, my anger getting the better of me. “He loves me and asked me to marry him.” I shook my head, confused and angry that she was saying those things to me. I turned and went back down the walkway to the street but Jomo had already gone.
What the hell…
I sat on the low stone wall that surrounded the property and stared out at the quiet street. I felt sick to my stomach, but my mind fought with itself over how to interpret Sam's presence during the middle of the day at my house and what she had said. Why she had a suitcase in her hand.
Did she think I shouldn’t marry him because I wasn’t in medicine?
Then I noticed a truck parked at the side of the road in front of the house. The sign read "Mbecki's Cartage". Was Drake having something delivered?
I heard Drake before I saw him, heard his voice at the door calling my name, but the blood was pounding in my ears and I didn’t turn to look at him. I felt his presence before I saw it, and then he sat down on the wall beside me, leaning over, his elbows resting on his knees.
"Kate…" he said, his voice soft. "I didn’t want things to happen like this."
"Like what?" I glanced at him, but didn't linger on his face for fear I'd burst into tears.
"I didn't think you were coming back so soon," he said.
"Obviously."
Then he reached out to take my hand. I let him, waiting for him to explain what was going on. Trying not to come to any conclusions of my own.
"You should have called me."
"I guess I should have," I replied, not helping him out any and not responding to his touch.
"As soon as I got back, I gave Michael my notice and some of the residents are here to help me pack up the house."
A shock raced through me. I turned to him, searching his face. He was calm, his face placid.
