Ada's mouth hung open in disbelief as she gazed at Amara, "What did you just say?"
Amara winced, hating that she had to repeat it out loud. "I said he told me he wants to be in a relationship with him and I told him I'm not ready for a relationship."
"Ah! Jesus Christ of Nazareth! Amara, you dey okay? Like are you sure you're okay? Why will you say no? What possessed you to say no when we both know that you like him?" Ada asked, still unable to make sense of it, then she paused, "Oh! You're playing hard to get?"
Amara rolled her eyes as she took off her dress. "No. Why will I play hard to get? Just listen to me, okay?" She said as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Ada nodded, gesturing with her hands for Amara to carry on.
"The thing is, I'm not confident enough to be in a relationship with him yet…"
"Confidence? What exactly are you not confident about? Michael knows all about your past and he doesn't mind, so what confidence do you need again that you don't have already? This you that announced your past to anyone who cared to listen and was smiling at people in church even when they were whispering about you?"
Tears gathered in Amara's eyes and she shook her head. "That's different. It's not the same thing."
"It's not the same thing? Okay, tell me. How is it different? Please don't give me all that cliche line of you're a nobody and he's a somebody and one thing one thing. We had this conversation before you left the house, remember?"
"And I told you then that I didn't know what I would do if he asked me out, didn't I?"
"Exactly why I don't understand why you said you're not ready instead of saying you'd think about it. How can you just say an outright no? You like him, he likes you, his mother likes you. Why on earth will you turn him down?" Ada asked, and Amara let out a deep breath.
"Because I'm not ready. I told him before that I wasn't ready yet for a relationship. I want to focus on my spiritual life and work on my self. Look at Michael, he's doing very well for himself. How can you expect me to date him like this when I don't even have anything to offer myself talk more of him?" Amara asked, raising her voice a little.
"Oya e done do. E never reach to shout!" Ada said, sighing softly when she saw that Amara was becoming upset.
They were both silent for a while, and then Ada realized she was yet to ask about Michael's reaction to her response.
"So, what did he now say? Was he upset?"
Amara sighed as she recalled what had transpired following Michael's confession.
Before Amara could even form a reply to Michael's confession, Deacon Oleju called out to him.
"Pastor Michael!"
Michael turned to greet him and Amara's head whipped around, and watched as the man with his wife and their two grown up daughters walking toward them.
The Deacon's face was warm and friendly, but his wife's eyes flicked over Amara in one judgmental sweep. From the top of her head to the heels on her feet.
Amara lowered her eyes quickly. She could tell the woman had sentenced her to hell in that one appraisal.
The daughters on the other hand were staring at Michael like he was the next best thing they'd seen after jollof rice.
Amara whispered a quiet, "Good evening, sir. Good evening, ma."
The Deacon's wife gave a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Pastor Michael," one of the girls said, shaking his hand warmly, "I didn't know you watch movies. I thought you only know how to attend church and work at your pharmacy."
Michael laughed. "I like to have fun when I can."
"I guess you ran into Sister Amara here?" The deacon's wife asked with a hopeful smile.
Amara's heart skipped a beat and she prayed Michael wouldn't give a response since she knew if he did these girls would spread the news and it'd sort of confirm what Faith had said during the rehearsals about her seducing Michael.
But Michael smiled. "No. We came together. I asked her to hangout with me today and we chose to see a movie."
Amara's head jerked up as she looked at Michael but he looked unbothered.
"That's nice. It's good to see that our pastors are human too," The Deacon smiled slowly, his eyes moving between them but without judgement.
His wife and daughters however exchanged knowing looks as they eyed Amara with open disapproval.
Michael laughed, his focus on the deacon. "Thank you, sir. It's also good to see you hanging out with your family this way. We need to leave now. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening."
"You too," the deacon said, and Michael gave a slight bow of respect, then gently took Amara's arm and led her away.
Amara kept her lips sealed the whole time, her heart hammering as though everyone in the mall was staring at her. She didn't breathe properly again until Michael opened the car and they both got in.
The car was silent. Michael started the engine, his eyes straight on the road, but inside he kept wondering why she was so silent.
Was she quiet because of his confession to her, or because of the exchange with the Deacon?
After driving for a while, he glanced at her. She was staring out the window. "What are you thinking about? Why are you so quiet?"
Amara sighed softly. "You shouldn't have told them we came together."
Michael raised a brow, keeping his hands on the wheel. "You wanted me to lie? Why?"
She turned to him, her voice a little shaky. "Did you see the way his wife and daughters were looking at me? They were looking at the way I was dressed. I know they are going to talk. What do you think they will say about you going to see a movie with me dressed this way? What if they report you to the church?"
Michael's lips twitched. So, she was concerned about what they thought of him. "Nothings is wrong with your dress. I picked it myself, remember? And did you already forget what I told you earlier? I want to be in a relationship with you. Trust me, before I told you that I've already spent more than enough time thinking about what people will say, and I've come to the conclusion that I don't care what they say."
Her chest ached at his words. She shook her head. "You should care."
"Why should I? I told you about my past, remember?"
"That's different. You're a man. Society looks at it differently. Men get away with things like that," she said easily.
"And who is society? You're society, Amara. Is it different to you?" Michael let out a soft sigh and turned the wheel carefully. "Let's talk about it over dinner."
"Sorry, I don't have appetite," Amara whispered. "Please… just take me home."
Michael frowned, glancing at her quickly. "Why do you want to go home when we agreed to have dinner after the movie?"
Her eyes glistened. "I told you before, Michael. I'm not ready for a relationship. I like you, but that won't make me change my mind about being in a relationship. I don't want to be in a relationship with you."
Michael sighed inwardly. "You know what? Let's not talk about being in a relationship now. I promised to get food for Ada, and we're already far away from the mall so I can't go back there to get food. And I can't let you go home without at least getting you something to eat. Let's just get takeout packs and then I'll take you home. I don't want you going home in this state."
At that, Amara turned away from him as tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and fast.
Deep down she was happy that he liked her and wanted to be in a relationship with her, but she couldn't bring herself to accept his heart.
She didn't have anything to offer him other than the ridicule she knew that being with her would cause.
If he had told her how he felt earlier she would have thought twice before saying all of that at the rehearsal.
She could stand being judged. She could even defend herself and talk back at anyone who dared to shame her, but she couldn't do that if she was with Michael. He was a pastor and as a result she'd need to hold back a lot for his sake regardless of what anyone said or did.
She couldn't do that.
And there was his mother. How would she feel if she found out about any of this?
Michael's chest clenched when he heard her sniffle. "Amara…" His brows furrowed. "are you crying? What do you want me to do?"
She didn't answer. She only pressed her hands against her face, her shoulders trembling, heavy with regret for all her past choices that brought her to this point.
Michael pulled over by the roadside and reached out to tap her shoulder as he quietly wondered why she was crying.
The car filled with the soft sound of her sobs until, slowly, she calmed.
"Why were you crying?" Michael asked in a low voice.
Amara shook her head and whispered, "Nothing."
He stared at her for a while wondering if he should tell her or not that he'd heard from God that she was his wife. He decided not to say so. He'd just keep asking God to reveal it to her.
"I know you like me, Amara. I know you feel the same way I feel about you. But if you say you're not ready now, that's fine. But tell me, how long do you need before you'll be ready?"
Amara stared at her lap, her voice barely there. "I don't know."
Michael nodded slowly. "Okay."