Kwashie has been getting a lot of attention lately and I wasn't sure if I was just overthinking it. We were now walking to the tailor to give our measurements for our wedding suits. I know I lost the bet but she made it known that if I wanted to wear the suit, I could and that's how we decided that I'd still be the conventional bride and wear white.

We had a heated argument about the wedding theme but at least we agreed to having an evening beach wedding and the reception would be held at the hotel close by. We didn't have to worry ourselves with the wedding plans but Kwashie was obsessive and wanted things to go her way.

"You go first," She said once we got into the store.

I nodded realizing there was no arguing with her these days. She was more secretive and closed off, she even spent less and less time with me at my house always making up some excuse that her mom needs her or her father needs help with work. Mr Ekuban is a lawyer as well, he just didn't work at the same law firm as Richard.

I stretched my arms and allowed the tailor to take my measurements while staring out at nothing in particular, my mind was running wild with assumptions. Why was Kwashie behaving like this now when we'd be getting married in two months time?

"All set," the tailor smiled as he helped me to step off the pedestal.

"You are quite beautiful," he complimented me.

"Thank you," I nodded.

"I have a daughter that would be interested in someone of your calibre." He said.

"Someone masculine yet still maintain the right amount of femininity." He finished.

"Maybe last year your daughter would've gotten lucky but unfortunately for her, I am engaged to be married soon." I confessed.

"Who's the lucky spouse?" I smiled at his use of the neutral word spouse.

"He's coming in for his fitting next," I moved towards the door.

"Ah, Mr Ekuban?" He asked.

"Yes," I smiled.

"This isn't me being a tattletale but there's a female that has taken quite a fancy to the young man, it's almost to the point of zealousness." He whispered.

"Wha..." I didn't bother to finish the sentence.

"Thank you for telling me," I patted his shoulder as I opened the door and stepped through.

Kwashie was talking to the clerk with a flirtatious smile on his face. I loudly cleared my throat sticking my hands into the pockets of my grey slacks.

"Mary, this is my fiancée Zidania." She quickly changed her stance and outstretched her arm towards me.

I gave her a bitter smile and motioned for Kwashie to go see the tailor. After she passed me kissing my jaw on the way into the room, I stood my ground staring at the clerk, Mary. She held my gaze with a cunning smile etched onto her face, she was daring. I liked that.

"Mary.." my voice was smooth and calculated.

"Zidania, right?" She tilted her head.

"Please, Zim." I corrected her.

"Zim.." she tested out my name.

"What is your gameplay?" I asked.

"Whatever do you mean?" Her voice was sarcastic and it angered me.

"What is that you want from my fiancé?"

"Kwashie?" She let out a humorless laugh.

"Nothing, I promise. He's all bark and no bite but I'm not the one with the hots for your fiancé," she clicked her tongue.

"Is that you admitting that Kwashie has came onto you before?" I asked.

"Yes, he might have but this is no competition dear." She smiled.

"You're right because pidgins can't win against hummingbirds." I winked.

"Exc-" I cut her off.

"Who has the hots for Mr Ekuban?" I asked.

"And why should I tell you?" She rolled her eyes.

"Because I don't make threats, I make promises. So it's either you work with me or you are against me." My voice was void of emotions. She wasn't the one who deserved my wrath, it was Kwashie.

"I see why you've won over Kwashie," she said with a smile.

"That part isn't what you should be worrying about," I said.

"You're the Devil's advocate," she hissed.

I quickly walked up to join her behind the counter. I pressed her back against the glass counter and lowered my head brushing the skin on her neck with the tip of my nose. She smelt of expensive perfume. I felt her shiver under my light touches, I pulled away to stare deep into her eyes.

I once thought that Carter Jones was the Devil because of how easily she set up Kwashie without any second consideration but I think that passed onto me once I set her up to actually take her life and until this day I still couldn't feel any remorse, I guess energies do pass along.

"I'm not the Devil's advocate." I leaned in so that my lips were close enough to her ears.

"Would you like to know how I won over Kwashie while women like you made themselves available?" I asked.

Her breath hitched in her throat as I blew on her earlobe.

"I'm the Devil himself," I let out a loud toe curling laugh stepping away from the obviously affected store clerk.

"So remember Mary, it's either you are with me or against me." I winked and turned just in time for Kwashie and the tailor to step from the room shaking hands.

I smiled at the tailor as I made my way out of the shop with Kwashie trailing behind me. I didn't respond to her calls, I just quickly walked away and around to the parking lot to the car. I stood waiting for her to unlock the car so I could get shelter from the penetrating rays of the sun.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked as soon as we got in.

"Turn on the car, I'm burning up." I pulled at my shirt to cool myself down.

Kwashie turned the car on so that the AC could blow from the vents. I turned to meet her gaze and raised my eyebrow.

"What?" I asked.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked me again.

"Nah the better question fam is what is wrong with YOU?" I exaggerated my last word.

"I have no problem," she shrugged her shoulders.

"Are you sure? Walking around flaunting yourself like you don't see me with you. You're so fucking brazen with it that you even do that shit in front of my face." I argued.

"What are you talking about?" She sounded confused.

"So we acting dumb dumb now?" I twisted my face up.

"I'm not flaunting myself, I can't stop attraction and you should know that." She said.

"You real cocky, you know that?" I asked.

"I'm not." She defended herself.

"Arrogance isn't flattering on you," I pierced my lips.

"I'm confident, not arrogant."

"Just.. just carry me home." I was getting irate.

"Why are you vex?" She asked me.

"Put the car in drive and take me home." I turned my head away from her.

She sighed and moved off. We both sat in a thick silence that not even the lively afrobeat songs playing on the radio could dampen. I kept my eyes glued on the tinted glass not wanting to look anywhere else. Notifications kept blowing up her phone and with each ding my nose flared and my heart ached. Why me?

Thirty minutes later she pulled into my driveway and I got out slamming the car door walking away into the house. I made a left instead of going straight for the stairs to Richard's self serve bar. I took the Double Black Label off the top shelf and an already rolled joint from the wooden stash box sitting on the bar stool with a glass filled with ice. I poured myself a drink and then lit the joint pulling the smoke into my lungs.

Two drinks and four joints later I heard Kwashie calling my name from the hallway. I wasn't drunk, the weed balanced out the liquor in my system even though two glasses wasn't enough for my system anyways. I didn't bother to look up, I continued taking long drags from my joint watching the fire consume the paper and burn the dried herbs.

"Zidania.." She was in the Bar room now. I could hear her Oxfords hitting the tile.

She called out to me but I remained mute. I wasn't in the mood to talk to her. I hummed the lyrics to Jorja Smith's cover to Lost. I loved Frank Ocean's original version but Jorja Smith did something phenomenal to the words with her voice.

"So you are avoiding me now?" She asked standing beside me.

"I wish you'd avoid me." I didn't look up at her. I kept my gaze focused on the ice floating in the glass.

"What have I done?" She asked me.

I kept quiet, maybe if I avoided her she would take a hint and leave but I should've known that Kwashie doesn't know how to let things rest. I had my natural hair out, it had grew a lot since New Years. I had become more comfortable with the loose hair texture learning how to manage it so that it wasn't always a curly mess on my head.

"Zidania," she called again.

"Stop that.." I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Stop calling my name like that." I said.

"How?"

"Stop calling my name like you love me," I shouted out as I got up and threw the glass into the nearby wall.

"Where is all of this coming from? I do love you," she moved to touch me but I backed up.

"Please, don't touch me." My eyes stung as the hot tears escaped and ran down my face.

"I have not done anything to betray your trust and I have not disrespected you in any way, my queen. Where is all of this coming from?" Her voice was soft.

"Why are you hiding your phone? Why were you flirting with the store clerk while I was in the other room?" I finally looked at her, she looked sorry but she also looked reserved.

"Why are you behaving like you're walking on ice?" I asked again.

"It's complicated..." she trailed off.

"Are you cheating on me?" I whispered.

"No! I would never." She said.

"What's more complicated than cheating?" I huffed.

"It's just complicated, okay? I'll sort it out and then no more secrets." She confessed.

"So you're admitting to secrets now?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I.." She didn't finish.

"Go home, Mr Ekuban." I only addressed her with male pronouns when I was upset.

"Zim.." she called me.

"It's Zidania," I corrected using my full name.

"Please.." She begged.

"Nah, go beg the hoes you have blowing up your phone." My tears were dry and I was just numb and emotionless.

I sat back down on the bar stool taking out a blunt cigar and lighting it up. The thick smoke I blew out surrounding me like a temporary protective barrier until it disappeared into nothingness. I continued smoking my slow burn cigar watching Kwashie in the back glass. She looked as if she wanted to say something but her lips wouldn't allow the words to spill from her mouth.

I watched as she looked at me one last time with a sad expression on her face before leaving. I watched her retreating figure in the glass as I allowed the tears to spill, I didn't want her to leave but I didn't want to look like a fool either.