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Kokou sighed and walked over to stand on the other side of the island to stare at me. Her brown eyes sparkling with an emotion I wasn’t sure I was seeing. I didn’t speak—instead, I kept her gaze, wanting to know what was going through her head.
I didn’t want to push.
“Fuck.” I muttered and slid from the stool. “Look, I’m not going to read too much into that, okay? People working in close quarters give in to this—whatever this is—all the time then move on. I’m going to assume that’s the nature of the beast. It was an unguarded moment that shouldn’t have happened.”
It was unbelievable how hurt those words made me. The thought she regretted what happened between us tore at me. But she wasn’t the first woman who I’d become a regret for and for the rest of my life—however long that would be—she wouldn’t be the last.
Even though I knew that, it still wasn’t any easier.
I left her in the kitchen and began putting myself together so when my daughter arrived, I would be able to focus solely on her. After paying some bills and reading some emails from news media trying to get me to talk to them, I did a mass delete of the over two thousand emails in my inbox and closed my laptop.
By the time my daughter was dropped off, I was able to pull it together and pretended everything was fine.
Pretending not to know how to make cookies, I allowed her to teach me. We made two different types—chocolate chips and oatmeal. She loved the oatmeal ones. The chocolate chips were for me.
“How long do they go into the oven for?” I asked her.
Kennedy giggled. “I don’t know. Goddie said until they’re baked.”
“Until they’re baked.” I chuckled. “Right.”
After a while, Kokou showed up and my daughter set a plate in front of her with a glass of milk. To her credit, Kokou smiled at Kennedy, patted her head and bit into one of the cookies.
“So good.” She told Kennedy but kept her eyes on me. “And it’s still warm—my favourite.”
“Really?” Kennedy asked. “Did you used to make cookies with your mom as a little girl?”
She nodded. “Not cookies—really.”
“Then what?”
“Well, I’m from a country called Nigeria.” Kokou explained after another bite of her cookie. “Have you ever heard of Nigeria?”
“We learned about Nigeria in Geography. It’s in Africa, right?”
Kokou smiled brightly. “Exactly. And we have this thing called a Puff. They are really delicious. But my favourite thing to make was coconut candy.”
“Ohh!”
“Those are my favourite.” Kokou confided.
I remained quiet as the two of them interacted and by the time Kennedy disappeared up to her room to read, I felt as if I was battered and bruised. The exhaustion I felt pulsed through me as I wondered what was going to happen next.
Eventually, I wandered up to my bedroom and peeled my shirt off. I had every intention of taking a shower then crawled into bed—maybe take a page out of my daughter’s book and try reading. My phone rang, the display telling me the detective working on the attempting kidnapping case was calling.
This day is hell.
“Yes, detective.”
“Is it possible to have you come down to the station tomorrow for a chat?” He wanted to know.
“Did you find something?”
“Not really—but I have news and would like to ask you some questions.”
“Fine.” I sighed. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
Before he could speak again, I hung up and plugged the phone in to charge. I figured after I dropped my daughter off at school, I would stop by the station, find out what the hell they want then move on with my day.
