Just as his fingers brushed the buttons of my upper uniform, a voice pierced the moment.
"Queen, child… are you there? Please help me, child," my mother called out, her voice tired but full of warmth.
Startled, I quickly pulled away and rushed to the window. Mama was approaching, balancing a heavy sack of laundry on her head and a plastic bag dangling from one hand.
I hurried downstairs without a word, guilt and relief tangling inside me. Mike silently followed.
Without hesitation, he stepped in to help, lifting the bag from my mother's arm with quiet respect.
Mama looked at him and smiled. She gently took his hand and blessed it, a custom that always carried deep meaning. I could tell she appreciated the help.
After that, she climbed the stairs to rest.
Mike and I remained downstairs. The air between us felt different heavier.
The moment we'd just shared was still hanging there, unspoken but undeniable.
Mike already knew my mother. He knew she was just a laundress, and yet he never once made me feel less because of it.
Around 8pm in the evening, Mama said gently, "Mike, it's getting late… you should head home before anything happens on the way." Her concern was genuine, maternal.
"Ah, okay, Ma. I'll be leaving now," Mike replied politely.
Mama turned to me. "Make sure you escort your visitor, Queen. You know how those troublemakers linger around."
Mike and I stepped out into the night together.
As we walked, he placed his right hand on my shoulder, drawing me just a little closer.
The air was cool, and the path dimly lit, flanked by tall grasses and thick leafed plants swaying gently in the breeze.
When we reached the darker bend of the path, we stopped.
He turned to face me, eyes searching mine, and slowly took my hands in his. I instinctively held his hands back, matching his grip.
"Queen… whatever happens, wherever I go, I will always love you," he said, voice quiet but firm.
Then he wrapped his arms around me in a deep embrace and kissed me long, slow, and full of emotion.
It was the kind of kiss that makes your heart ache and flutter all at once. A kiss that says more than words ever could.
It was really my first kiss.
I didn't know how to kiss like that before.
He stopped and smiled at me.
I just bowed, feeling shy.
He started kissing me again, and this time I let him.
His right hand wandered everywhere on my back, then on my butt.
Then, while still kissing my lips, he tried to touch my breasts, murmuring softly, "Uhmmm... uhhhmm."
And I felt something unnatural.. I hold his right hand to stop him crumpling my boobs..then "I'm sorry.."
I'm sorry, I just carried away with my emotions. Then we went on our way out to the place where he left his motorcycle...
"Queen, I have to go," he said with a soft smile, brushing a hand gently over my cheek.
"Okay... take care always," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"You too, babe. Take care for me," he added, then leaned in and kissed me again. It was slow, lingering... as if he wanted to remember the shape of my lips.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine.
"Queen... this isn't a goodbye kiss, okay? I love you," he whispered.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart fulland breaking at the same time.
I stood there for a long while, watching his figure disappear into the shadows of the night, the sound of his motorcycle fading into the distance.
I slowly turned and walked back home, still feeling the warmth of his kiss on my lips and the weight of his words in my chest.
When I reached the door, Mama was waiting inside, folding clothes.
"You saw him off safely?" she asked without looking up.
I nodded. "Yes, Ma."
She glanced at me and smiled faintly. "Good girl."
I smiled back at Mama but in my heart, his words echoed louder than anything else.
"This isn't a goodbye kiss."
I held on to that.
Because love like that doesn't just end it lingers, it waits, it hopes.