Femi tripped on air and grabbed Adaora’s door to hold himself up. He was drunk, but no matter how drunk he got, he always found his way to where he called home. He knew she would let him in, she always did. He leaned on her door and knocked lightly.
Adaora was on her work desk typing on her laptop, when she heard the knock she knew who it was, she was expecting him. This was Femi’s routine. He aways came to her after having sex and a few too many drinks. She got up and let him in, he stumbled forward and she caught him. A strong whiff of schnapps flushed her nostrils as she did.
“I’m tired.” he said looking up at her.
She helped him in then shot the door before leading him to her couch. Trying not to say what was on her mind – and she had a lot on her mind – she stared at him with pity. She knew why he did it, why he had sex with every skirt. She believed she knew why, but she could never bring her self to have that conversation with him, plus he was tired, now would not be the time to talk.
She patted his head as she watched him sleep, “Why do you keep hurting yourself?” she asked. “Tell me how to help you.” she patted him one more time before returning to work.
Femi’s eyes opened as his alarm went off, he turned it off and looked up to make sure it did not wake Adaora. She had fallen asleep on her desk again. He rooled out of the couch and folded the cloth she had covered him with. He walked into her bathroom his towel was next to hers and his toothbrush was with hers in a cup, he pressed his lips together in a soft smile, grabbed the brush, brushed his teeth, had his bath, then went into her room to pick out his work cloth. He practically lived with her.
All clean and dressed, he made a coffee with the coffee maker, poured himself a cup and drowned it, then poured anther cup for Adaora, he tapped her shoulder.
“All dressed?” she aasked. “I’m going to start collecting house rent from you.”
“I make coffee for you every morning.” He handed her her cup.
She took a full mouth of the smooth coffee. “Why does it always taste better when you make it?”
“Because I’m better at everything.” he joked.
“Please.” she rolled her eyes. “By the way, coffee does not count as payment.”
“I’ll eventually come up with a way for you to pay me, if I don’t kick you out first.”
It was a joke, she would never kick him out, she knew it, but he didn’t, he looked worried.
“Aren’t you running late?” She asked.
“I never run late.” he smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
She watched him leave, knowing he would return like he did last night. She knew he did not get drunk in the club, but in his house.
To be continued