By the time Amara finished in the kitchen and stepped into the living room, Michael was seated on the couch in the living room, waiting to take her to the Hotel.
She paused when she saw him wearing three-quarter shorts and a polo T-shirt. It was her first time seeing him dressed so casually. He looked less stiff and pastorly, if there was a word like that.
Michael looked up from his phone, and when he saw her staring at him, he raised a brow. "Are you ready to leave?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Can you help me tell Mummy that I'm going?"
"This is her prayer time," he said, and she nodded.
"Okay then," she said as she headed for the door, and Michael followed.
As they walked to the car, neither of them said a word to each other. They got into the car, and Amara focused on setting up her phone while Michael started the car.
He glanced at her at intervals as he drove, but she didn't look his way. She just kept her attention on her phone, as though she were ignoring him or avoiding a conversation with him.
After a while, he cleared his throat when he saw from the corner of his eyes that she seemed to be trying to download something online, "Do you need songs or sermons? I have some that I can send to you," He offered, and Amara looked up from her phone, surprised by his offer.
"Yes. I will appreciate it. Thank you," she said, and Michael picked up his phone. He unlocked it and handed it to her.
Amara went straight to his Xender app and began marking and sending all the songs and sermons to her phone.
"Do you have movies on your phone?" She asked, but Michael shook his head.
"I don't have time for movies, but when I want to, I watch movies on Netflix or go to the cinema," he said, and she nodded.
Of course. What was she thinking, asking that question? He was a busy person, not like her.
"Do you want Netflix login details?" he asked, and she looked at him, wondering why he was suddenly being nice.
Was she safe?
Michael turned to look at her when she didn't respond. "What?"
"Am I safe? This one you're offering me things like this," she said with a smile, and Michael's lips twitched with an amused smile.
"It's not a big deal. I barely watch it, so my subscription is wasted every month," he explained.
"I guess you must be a very busy person. No problem. I will try to help you make sure your subscription won't be wasted," she said, and Michael smiled.
"Thank you. I will text you the login details later," he murmured.
They were both silent for a while as Amara returned her attention to the phone. After a while, she turned to him. "October 20th."
"What?" He asked, not understanding what she was saying or if she was talking to him.
"My birthday is October 20th," she said, and he raised a brow.
"You're telling me because I promised you Netflix login?" He asked, and she laughed.
"No. Not at all. I'm sorry about earlier," she said, then sighed, "I was sort of angry. Don't ask me what you did or said. I don't know. Maybe I do. You told your mother I was just your convert on Sunday at the church. You're not wrong, but it just felt harsh. Nothing would have left your body had you said I was your friend. But then again, maybe you didn't say so because you're ashamed of my past. I understand that. You're a pastor, and you're trying to be careful. The way you have been acting has somehow been making me feel as if you're judging me. Maybe I'm overthinking it, maybe not. I know I'm rambling. I'm just trying to explain what I'm thinking. So maybe I reacted that way because of the way I've been interpreting your behavior. I'm talking too much when you didn't even ask me anything. Sorry," she said, pressing her lips together.
Michael didn't say anything. He was silent as he continued driving while processing everything she had said.
Amara, on the other hand, frowned when he didn't say anything, and she wondered why she said all of that to him when the last time she had talked that way, he had only said 'okay' as well.
She decided not to tell him her mind again because it seemed like whenever she poured her heart out to him, he never responded.
As Michael drove into the hotel premises, Amara checked how many items had yet to be sent to her phone on Xender. She wanted to cancel it when she saw it was still over a hundred, but he spoke before she could.
"How many items are left?" He asked as he parked the car, and she looked at him.
"More than a hundred," she said, and he nodded.
"Okay. Let it keep sending while we talk," he said, and she looked at him, surprised that he wanted to talk.
"Okay," she said, waiting to hear what he wanted to talk about.
"I'm sorry," he said, turning in his seat to look at her.
Amara was slightly taken aback by the apology, "What for?"
"For making you feel like I was judging you. I only told her that you were my convert because she would read extra meaning to it if I said you were my friend. You've seen the way she is and how she likes to joke about everything. I was trying to avoid that," he said, and she nodded, relieved that he had not simply said okay like the last time.
"It's true that we are not friends, but I think we should be especially now that we are going to be neighbors. Let's be friends, Amara," Michael suggested, looking at her.
If he was going to get to know her better and decide whether or not to marry her, then he had to start by at least being friends with her. That was the only way he could easily ask her questions and observe her.
Amara nodded. "Okay. Let's be friends," she said, smiling. "And you don't have to worry. Your mother knows that you and I can't be anything more than friends. So she won't tease you."
"Can I ask you a question?" He asked, and she nodded.
"Sure."
"You said I'm not your spec," he said, and she nodded again.
"Yes. Why?" She asked, wondering why he was bringing that up. Did she hurt his ego?
"Did you really mean it, or was it because you were annoyed?" He asked, and she shook her head.
"I meant it," she said, and Michael tried not to frown as he wondered how he could not be her type.
He was tall, handsome, a spirit-filled Christian, and well-to-do. He had a good sense of humor. What more could a woman want? What more could Amara want in a man? He wondered.
"So, what if, for example, God asks you to marry me? Just an example," he added again.
Amara laughed. "God cannot ask me to marry you. Why will God do something like that? If God asks me to marry you, I will pray and tell Him no."
He was rejecting her, and she was rejecting him?
"Why?" He asked, confused.
"You're a good man. You are perfect. God should give you someone perfect like you. Someone who doesn't have a past like mine. Me too, I can't marry a pastor. I don't want the pressure that comes from being a pastor's wife," she said, and Michael couldn't help feeling slightly guilty that she thought he was perfect.
He was far from being perfect. Until now, if someone had told him that he would ever doubt or question God's will for his life, he would have said that was impossible. But he was learning now that his faith in God wasn't as firm as he thought it was, and hearing it from his mother had shamed him.
"Okay. Has everything finished sending?" He asked, and she looked down at their phones.
"Yes. Thank you. Help me thank your mother for the phone again. And thanks for dinner," she said as she reached for the door handle to open it.
"Goodnight, Amara," Michael said as he watched her get out of the car.
"Goodnight, Pastor Michael. See you tomorrow," she said with a wave and headed inside the Hotel.
Michael waited until she was inside before driving away. As he drove home, he replayed their conversation in his head.
She had a likable personality. He liked how she expressed herself.
There were only two things he didn't like about her so far: the fact that she didn't have a university degree, and her past.
One of them wasn't her fault and could be changed on as his mother had implied. He could send her to school.
The second couldn't be changed. And if he were being honest with himself, he would admit that if he had preached to her when he was led to two years ago, maybe things would have been different.
Michael sighed deeply. He remembered when he first met her back then and how he had thought then that she was his type.
It was funny that she was his spec but he wasn't hers.
He didn't have all the answers yet and wasn't sure where or how to start, but he was going to pray about it and trust God to guide him on how to go about things.