The Conquest of Love - Chapter Seven

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Family’s Disapproval

By Monday morning, Amara had almost convinced herself that Saturday's lunch was behind her.

Almost.

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She was arranging a delivery of new books when Daniel called. She considered letting the phone ring while she finished checking the invoice, but the thought of hearing his voice won.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning. Are you busy?"

"I'm working. That's usually what happens when you own a business."

He laughed. "I deserved that."

"You did. So, what's happening?"

"I was wondering if I could see you this evening."

Amara glanced at the clock. She had two deliveries to sort out and a supplier to call, but she could spare an hour.

"After six?"

"That works."

"Where?"

"Your choice."

She looked around the shop. "There's a small restaurant near the bookshop. Nothing fancy."

"Perfect. I'll meet you there."

When the call ended, she returned to her work. Yet she found herself wondering whether Daniel had spoken to his father.

She decided not to ask over the phone. If he had something to tell her, he could tell her when they met.

She was beginning to understand that liking someone did not make waiting for answers any easier.

Daniel arrived at the restaurant shortly before seven. Amara was already seated at a table near the window, looking through a list of books she needed to order.

He pulled out the chair opposite her.

"Work never ends, does it?"

"Not when the rent is due every month."

"Fair point."

He ordered a drink, asked about her day, and listened while she described a supplier who had delivered the wrong titles for the second time that month. For a while, they talked about ordinary things. Amara appreciated the effort, but she knew he had not asked to see her simply to discuss books and suppliers.

Eventually, she closed her notebook.

"So, have you spoken to your father?"

Daniel looked at her over his glass.

"I have."

"And?"

"He doesn't understand why I'm making this difficult."

Amara waited.

"He believes Kemi and I would be a good match. He thinks our families understand each other, that we share similar values, and that we'd make a strong couple."

"Do you agree with him?"

"No."

"Then what exactly is difficult?"

Daniel leaned back.

"It's not as simple as saying no to a stranger. Our families have known each other for years. My father has done business with her father. They've attended the same events, supported each other's projects, and talked about this possibility for a long time."

"Have you and Kemi ever talked about it?"

"Not properly."

Amara looked at him for a moment.

"That seems unfair to both of you."

"I know."

"Does she know about me?"

He hesitated.

"Not from me."

Amara placed her notebook inside her bag.

"Daniel, listen to what you're telling me. Your father has been discussing your future with another family, and you haven't had a proper conversation with the woman involved. Now you're getting to know me, but you haven't told her about me either."

"When you put it like that—"

"How else should I put it?"

He fell silent.

Amara did not raise her voice. She wasn't trying to punish him. She simply wanted him to hear what he was saying without hiding behind the complications.

"I don't expect you to control your father," she continued. "I don't expect you to settle every family disagreement overnight. But you can control what you tell people. You can decide whether to be clear about your intentions."

"I know you're right."

"That doesn't mean you have to agree with everything I say. But you do need to decide what you're going to do."

Daniel rubbed his forehead.

"I'll speak to Kemi."

"When?"

"This week."

Amara nodded slowly.

"All right."

He looked relieved, but she was not finished.

"And Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to become the reason you fight with your family. I want to be with someone who chooses me because he wants to, not because he's trying to prove a point to his father."

His expression changed.

"That's not what this is."

"Then make sure your actions show it."

For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he reached across the table and touched her hand.

"I don't want to lose what we're building."

Amara let him hold her hand.

"Neither do I."

It was the truth. She liked him more than she had planned to, and she was beginning to care about what happened between them.

But affection could not do Daniel's difficult work for him.

When they left the restaurant, he walked her to her car and kissed her gently on the cheek. She smiled, and for a moment, everything felt simple again.

Then she drove home, while Daniel remained outside the restaurant, thinking about a conversation he had promised to have and still had not arranged.

Kemi Adeyemi was not a woman who enjoyed being kept in the dark.

At thirty-one, she had built a respectable career working with her family's foundation, which funded school supplies, community health programmes, and small educational projects. She had grown up around people who assumed she would eventually marry someone from a similar background. Daniel's name had appeared in those conversations so often that she had once joked to her mother that the two families might as well arrange their wedding before either of them had chosen a date.

Her mother had not found the joke amusing.

Over the years, Kemi had got to know Daniel well enough to respect him. He was intelligent, serious about his work, and less interested in showing off than some of the men they knew. She liked his dry humour, though she sometimes found him difficult to read.

She had never been in love with him.

But she had been open to the possibility that affection might grow if they spent more time together.

That was why, when Daniel called on Wednesday afternoon and asked to meet, she agreed.

They chose a quiet café not far from her office.

Kemi arrived first. When Daniel walked in, she noticed the seriousness on his face and suspected the conversation would not be about work.

"You're looking as though you've come to deliver bad news," she said after they ordered.

"I hope not."

"That depends on what you say next."

He gave a brief smile, then looked down at his hands.

"Kemi, our parents have been talking about us for a long time."

"Yes, they have."

"I think we need to be clear about where we stand."

She studied him.

"All right. Where do you stand?"

Daniel took a breath.

"I respect you. I think you're a good person, and I don't want to mislead you. But I don't see us getting married."

Kemi was quiet. She had expected something along those lines, but hearing it directly still stung. Not because she had imagined a grand romance between them, but because the possibility had been discussed so casually by their families that she had begun to wonder whether she was supposed to want it.

"Is there someone else?" she asked.

Daniel looked at her.

"Yes. I'm getting to know someone."

"Does she know about me?"

"She knows our families have been discussing the possibility of us getting together."

Kemi's expression tightened.

"But does she know you've never spoken to me about it properly?"

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

"No. Not in those words."

"Well, at least you're being honest now."

He nodded.

"I'm sorry if this has put you in an awkward position."

"It has, but not entirely because of you."

She stirred her drink without taking a sip.

"Our parents have been treating this as though we've both agreed to something. I've wondered more than once whether I should say something, but I thought perhaps you and I would eventually have a conversation."

"We should have had it sooner."

"Yes, we should have."

Kemi looked through the window at the traffic moving along the road.

"What's her name?"

"Amara."

"What does she do?"

"She owns a bookshop."

Kemi turned back to him.

"Do you like her?"

Daniel's answer came without hesitation.

"Yes."

Something about the certainty in his voice made the situation clearer than anything else he had said.

Kemi looked away and gave a small, rueful smile.

"Well, that settles that."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know. But you should understand something, Daniel. I'm not upset because I think I have a claim on you. I don't. I'm upset because everyone has been making plans around us, and neither of us stopped them soon enough."

He accepted the criticism without arguing.

Kemi picked up her bag.

"I'll speak to my mother. You should speak to your father again, and this time, don't leave room for him to misunderstand you."

"I will."

She stood, then paused.

"One more thing."

Daniel looked up.

"Don't let your family make Amara feel as though she's competing with me. She isn't. I never agreed to compete with her."

He nodded.

"I won't."

Kemi left the café with her head held high, though the conversation had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

She had no desire to become an obstacle in someone else's relationship.

But she knew her family. She also knew Daniel's.

One conversation between two people did not always end a plan that had been discussed by four parents for years.

That evening, Chief Eze was reading the business pages when Daniel entered the sitting room.

"Have you seen Kemi?" his father asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Her father called me earlier. He said she had something to discuss with her mother."

Daniel sat opposite him.

"I spoke to her about us."

His father lowered the newspaper.

"And?"

"I told her I don't intend to marry her."

The room went quiet.

Chief Eze folded the newspaper carefully and placed it on the table.

"You have made your decision, then."

"Yes."

"Because of Amara?"

"Because I don't want to marry Kemi."

"That is not what I asked."

Daniel felt irritation rise in his chest.

"Why does it matter whether there's someone else? I don't want this arrangement. That should be enough."

His father stood and walked towards the window.

"You think this is only about marriage. You think I am trying to choose a wife for you because I enjoy interfering in your private life."

"I think you've been making decisions about my future without asking what I want."

"I am trying to protect you from making a decision you may regret."

"Then let me make it."

Chief Eze turned.

"And if you regret it?"

"Then I'll live with the consequences."

"Easy words from a man who has not yet had to carry the weight of a family."

Daniel stood too.

"I'm carrying the weight of this family every day. I work for the company. I make decisions that affect hundreds of people. I understand responsibility, Dad. But I cannot spend the rest of my life doing what you think is best and calling it my own choice."

His father stared at him.

For a moment, Daniel wondered whether he had finally gone too far.

Then Chief Eze said, quietly, "You sound as though you believe I have never sacrificed anything for you."

"That's not fair."

"No? Who paid for your education? Who gave you the opportunity to lead a company? Who spent years making sure you would have a future that most people can only dream of?"

"I know what you've done for me."

"Do you?"

Daniel's anger softened, but it did not disappear.

"I am grateful. I will always be grateful. But gratitude cannot mean that I surrender every personal decision to you."

His father looked away.

The words seemed to land somewhere deeper than Daniel had intended.

After a long silence, Chief Eze picked up his newspaper again.

"Do what you think is right."

Daniel knew it was not permission. It was disappointment, delivered in a way that made him feel responsible for repairing it.

He left the room without saying anything more.

Upstairs, he sat on the edge of his bed and called Amara.

She answered after the third ring.

"Hello?"

"I spoke to Kemi."

Amara was quiet for a moment.

"How did it go?"

"I told her I don't see us getting married. She was upset, understandably, but she was fair about it."

"I'm glad you spoke to her."

"I also told my father. He wasn't pleased."

"I imagine he wasn't."

Daniel let out a short laugh.

"You sound as though you've met him before."

"I met him on Saturday. I have some experience."

He smiled, then grew serious again.

"I don't want this to come between us."

"Then don't let it."

"I'm trying."

"I know you are, Daniel. But sometimes trying means having the conversation you don't want to have, not just feeling bad about avoiding it."

He closed his eyes briefly.

"I deserve that."

"No, you don't need to deserve it. I'm not attacking you."

"I know."

They spoke for a while longer. By the time they ended the call, Daniel felt lighter. He had finally spoken to Kemi and made his position clear. Whatever happened next, at least he had stopped allowing other people to make assumptions on his behalf.

Or so he thought.

On Friday, Amara received a message from Chika asking if she wanted to meet for lunch.

They met at a small restaurant near the bookshop. Chika arrived with her usual energy, talking about a colleague who had sent a work email to the wrong person and spent the next hour trying to recover from the mistake.

Amara laughed, but her friend noticed that she was quieter than usual.

"How was the family lunch?" Chika asked.

"Interesting."

"That sounds like a diplomatic answer."

"It was fine, mostly. His mother was lovely. His father is a different matter."

"Did he insult you?"

"No. Not directly."

"That's encouraging, I suppose."

Amara told her about the questions regarding the bookshop, the conversation about marriage, and the mention of Kemi.

Chika listened without interrupting.

When Amara finished, her friend leaned back in her chair.

"How do you feel about Daniel now?"

Amara thought about the question.

"I still like him."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"I know."

She took a sip of water.

"I think he means well. He has been honest with me about some things, and he listens when I tell him something bothers me. But he has a habit of delaying difficult conversations."

"That can become a problem."

"Yes."

Chika waited.

Amara looked down at the table.

"I don't want to judge him for having a complicated family. I know people don't choose the families they're born into. But I don't want to spend my life wondering whether he'll stand up for our relationship whenever his father disapproves."

"Then don't decide the rest of your life today."

Amara looked up.

"Just pay attention to what he does next," Chika continued. "You don't have to punish him for a problem he is trying to fix. But you don't have to pretend the problem isn't there either."

Amara nodded slowly.

That sounded reasonable.

She did not need to walk away simply because things were difficult. Neither did she need to ignore her concerns because she cared about him.

For now, she would give Daniel room to show her who he was when the choices became uncomfortable.

Not who he hoped to be.

Who he actually was.

On Saturday evening, Daniel invited Amara to dinner at a restaurant they had visited once before.

He arrived carrying a small paper bag.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Something for you."

She looked suspiciously at him.

"If it's another expensive gift, I'm sending you away."

"It's a book."

She laughed.

"That's much safer."

Inside the bag was a second-hand copy of a novel she had mentioned wanting to read. The edition was old, with a faded cover and a small inscription written on the first page.

Amara looked up at him.

"Where did you find this?"

"An old bookshop near my office. The owner said he'd had it for years."

She turned the book over in her hands.

"I've been looking for this edition for months."

"I remembered."

Her smile was genuine.

"Thank you. I love it."

Daniel looked pleased with himself.

They settled into their meal, and for a while, the evening felt easy. He told her about a problem at work, and she described a customer who had spent twenty minutes arguing that a book should cost less because the story was available online.

"Did you reduce the price?" he asked.

"Of course not."

"Good."

"I did, however, spend another ten minutes explaining why a printed book is not the same thing as a free summary on the internet."

"That sounds like a difficult afternoon."

"It was. I deserve a medal."

"I'll see what I can arrange."

She laughed, and he reached across the table for her hand.

"Amara, I want you to know something. I spoke to Kemi. I told her where I stand."

"Thank you for telling me."

"I also made it clear to my father that I'm not going to marry someone because our families think it makes sense."

She studied his face.

"How did he take that?"

"Not well."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a conversation I should have had a long time ago."

He squeezed her hand gently.

"I want to keep getting to know you. I don't want my family's expectations to decide what happens between us."

Amara felt herself soften.

"Then let's keep getting to know each other."

He smiled.

"That's all I'm asking."

She held his gaze, wanting to believe that the hardest part had passed.

But as they sat together, Daniel's phone lit up on the table.

A message appeared on the screen.

Dad: We need to discuss the Adeyemi matter again. Don't assume this is finished.

Daniel turned the phone face down.

Amara had seen enough to read the name.

She did not ask what the message said. He had already told her that his father was unhappy, and she did not want every evening to become a discussion about the same problem.

Still, the message stayed with her.

Later, when Daniel dropped her near her car, she kissed him goodbye and thanked him for the book.

He looked happy.

She was happy too.

Yet as she drove away, she could not shake the feeling that Daniel had mistaken one difficult conversation for a finished battle.

She hoped he would prove her wrong.

Because she was beginning to fall for him, and she knew that the deeper her feelings grew, the harder it would become to separate the man she loved from the choices he made.

For now, she would give him time.

But time, she was learning, could reveal the truth about a relationship just as easily as it could hide it.

Stay tuned for Chapter Eight by 6.p.m this evening.