The sun was already bright when Amara stirred from sleep. She blinked groggily as she turned and reached for her phone.
It was 9:26 a.m.
She gasped and sat up quickly, confused. "Jesus! I overslept!" she exclaimed, rubbing her face.
Her chest tightened as the memory of her strange dream returned.
She had been standing in a room with Michael, folding shirts and putting clothes into a travel bag. Michael sat at the edge of the bed, smiling at her. Then, he reached out to touch her cheek and call her baby.
Her stomach twisted. Why did it seem like they were married in the dream? Why was she dreaming about Michael that way?
She rubbed her eyes and whispered, "What is wrong with me?"
She wasn't supposed to be having such a dream. And that dream especially felt too intimate.
Was she catching feelings for Michael?
It seemed like it. How else could she explain how she had been annoyed at Emma for asking to hang out with her, but had been over the moon when Michael asked her?
It wasn't gratitude that made her want to hang out with Michael. It was way more than gratitude.
She frowned and shook her head. "No. That's a bad idea. I can't think about him that way. No. This can't be happening," she murmured, hugging her knees as she sat on the bed. "I'm just overthinking things. It's just a dream."
But her chest was tight.
She couldn't afford to catch feelings for a man like Michael. He wasn't like the regular guys. He was a good man. A man people respected. A real Christian. A pastor, for that matter.
She wasn't the kind of woman for a man like that. She still had so much baggage. So much she was still working on.
Both Michael and his mother had been very good to her, and she couldn't pay them back by harboring such feelings for Michael.
A man like Michael needed someone better. Someone more fitting.
Her heart ached a little at the thought, and her phone started to ring before she could process it.
Her eyes dropped to the screen, and her heart skipped a full beat when she saw it was Michael's Mother.
She exhaled slowly and tried to clear the thoughts from her head before answering.
"Good morning, mummy," she greeted, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.
"Good morning, my darling Amara. How are you today? Hope you slept well?"
Amara cleared her throat. "I'm fine, ma. I did. I just woke up."
"You just woke up?" the woman asked, her tone concerned. "Have you prayed?"
"Not yet, ma. I was just about to—"
"Okay. Go and pray first. Read your Bible too. Don't be like those people who pick up their phone first in the morning before talking to God. Flash me after you're done, okay?"
"Yes, ma."
Amara sighed deeply and set the phone aside after the call ended. She picked up her Bible and whispered little prayers before studying.
After studying her Bible, she knelt beside her bed and rested her elbows on the mattress.
After praying her general prayers, she decided to pray about her feelings for Michael. "Father…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please help me. I don't want to have feelings for Michael. I don't want to start thinking of him like that. I know he's not for me. I know You must have prepared someone who is perfect for him. Please, I don't want to get hurt, Lord. Please… help me guard my heart. Let me not mistake his kindness and hand of friendship for something else. Help me focus on You."
Her voice trembled as she continued to pray. When she was done, she closed her Bible and rose.
Her heart was calmer as she picked up her phone and dialed Michael's mother.
"Hello, ma. I've finished my prayers and Bible reading," she said softly.
"Good girl," the woman said. "I called to check on you. I heard you're getting along very well with Tega."
Amara's heart skipped again. "E–eh? Did Michael say something?"
The woman laughed lightly. "I guess it's true?"
Amara bit her lip. "No o, it's not like that. I didn't mean— I just—"
The woman laughed again. "Calm down, my dear. My daughter noticed your profile on Tega's Netflix account and told me about it. I was surprised to hear that he made a profile for you."
Amara let out a small laugh when she realized that the woman was not upset. "Oh, that. He said he hardly uses it and the subscription was wasting, so…"
"That's very kind of him," his mother said. "But tell me, are you two getting along? Apart from Netflix? Is he still carrying nose up for you?"
Amara laughed. "No, ma," she said honestly. "We get along well now. I just hope it doesn't cause him any problems. I don't want people in church to misunderstand or start gossiping. I may have deliberately given Sister Faith a wrong impression about us yesterday."
"Faith? What happened?" Michael's mother asked.
Amara told her all that had happened between her and Faith, and the woman burst out laughing.
"Ah! Amara, I like you. Please keep giving them the wrong impression. Let people like her stay away from Tega," she said, amused that Michael had played along with Amara.
Amara sighed. "What if I mistakenly chase away his future wife, too?"
"Don't worry. You won't chase her away. If it's bothering you, pray about it," she said with a warm smile. "God will sort everything out."
"Yes, ma."
"Now, let's talk about the clothes I want you to make for me."
Amara brightened. "Yes, ma!"
"I've already told my daughter to reach out to you. She wants to sew some dresses too. I gave her your number. She'll reach out to you soon."
"Oh wow! Thank you so much, ma. I'm really grateful."
"You're welcome, my dear. I want you to sew one lace buba and wrapper for me. Then two gowns— Ankara, simple styles. You know I'm a pastor's wife. So I want you to make something fashionable but decent and modest."
"Do you have any colors in mind? Or a particular pattern of material you want me to buy?" Amara asked as she picked up her pen and notebook.
"Biro blue for the lace. It's the asoebi color for my niece's wedding. For the Ankara, I don't have anything in mind. You can choose fine materials for me. Make sure you buy very good lace. How much do you need to make it?"
"When I get to the market, I will send you pictures so that you can choose the materials you prefer, then you can send only the money for the materials. I can't charge you," Amara said, and Michael's mother laughed.
"Do you really think I will let you sew clothes for me for free? Send me your account details. I'll send you some money. If it's extra, keep it. If it's not enough, let me know. I'm going to work now, so I will be busy and unable to check the pictures. Just use your discretion."
"Okay, ma. Thank you again."
When the call ended, Amara beamed. She quickly typed a message, sent her account number, and stood up to get ready.
She needed to go to the market to buy the materials and also what she wanted to use to make the jollof rice.
After freshening up, she reached for a blue top and jeans trousers. She took time to apply a little powder and lip balm, then brushed the front of her hair.
She wanted to look nice. Maybe it was because she would see Michael first at the Pharmacy before leaving.
She rolled her eyes at herself as she walked out of the house, making a mental note to undo her braids that weekend since they were becoming old. She debated whether to do so before or after her outing with Michael.
Michael was writing something at the front desk at the pharmacy when she walked in. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him.
"Una good morning," she greeted, looking at the others in the pharmacy.
He looked up when he heard her voice, and her pulse quickened when their eyes met, and he smiled.
That was the way he smiled at her in her dream. Why did his smile look so fine?
"I was beginning to think you changed your mind," Michael said, his voice lighter. "You look nice. Are you ready to leave for the market?"
She nodded. "Yes. I just came to take the money and head out."
Michael leaned on the counter. "Are you just buying foodstuff or something else?"
"I want to get some materials for your mum's clothes," she said.
Michael straightened. "Okay. Which market?"
"Igbudu," she said.
"I'll drive you," he said casually, heading into his office to take his keys.
Amara's eyes widened as she hurried after him. "No, no. Don't worry. You're at work. I can go on my own."
He walked around the desk and took his phone and car key out of the drawer. "I insist."
She frowned slightly, wondering why he would want to take her to the market. "You're at work. What if someone needs you?"
"That's why I have nurses working for me. If it's something they can't handle, they can call me. I want to drive you."
She sighed. "I'll be fine on my own. I'll take keke. It's not far. What will you be doing while I'm buying things?"
Michael stepped closer. "Amara, let's go. It's been a long time since I went to the market. I want to escort you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure? Abi you want to follow me because you think I will cheat with you so you want to be paying for whatever I buy."
Michael chuckled, "Amara, stop analyzing. Let's go."
Amara looked at his face, then he smiled at her and jerked his head towards the door for them to leave.
She sighed and followed him, still wondering why on earth he was following her to the market when he had better things to do with his time.