CHAPTER FOUR

When I left the club that night, I couldn't stop thinking about her.

Not her body. Not the way she moved. Not even the fact that she danced for money.

It was her. The way she carried herself. The way she never looked ashamed. The wua she didn't badm or apologize for anything.

I kept replaying the moment our eyes locked.

I didn't understand why it felt… like gravity. Like something was pulling me in. Something I couldn't name.

I didn't even know what it meant. I wasn't used to this. I don't do this.

But I wanted to see her again.

Not for fun. Not for control. Not for business.

I wanted to see her.

I reached out to Davina.

Not directly but through my friend Jayden. I kept it vague. He has a way never letting things die down. And I wasn't ready to admit this… feeling. 

“Amara” I said, carefully. “Would she… be available?”

A few messages later, a date was set. A simple business event.

I didn't say it. I didn't even realize it at the time, but I wanted to see her in another environment. Not the club. Not the stage. Not her world.

I wanted her.

The night of the event, she arrived.

She was exactly as I remembered. Confident. Unapologetic. Alive. But… different. Red gown that hugged her figure, minimal makeup, hair down, no jewellery, her neckline was doing the complement. She looked liked she couldn't command the room without moving.

I stayed back. Let her enter. Let her breathe.

She didn't look at me first. She didn't see me waiting in the corner. She was calm. Poised. Guarded.

Perfect.

I caught her eye when she scanned the room. Just once.

She hesitated. Then she smiled. Bit it didn't reach her eyes.

She didn't know yet how much I had been thinking about her.

She would never guess.

“Hi,” she said, looking anywhere but me.

“Didn't think you'd need a fake date again.” She said looking me in the eye.

“Didn't think so either.” I answered.

“So…” I said when we finally sat down. My voice careful. Neutral. Controlled.

She tilted her head. “So…” she repeated.

I gave a half-smile. “Exotic dancer?”

Her eyebrows shot up. Sharp. Not surprised. Just… wary.

“Club person?” She smirked. “Didn't think that's your kind of place.” She said.

“Well, I should thank my friend, Jayden, for the persuasion.” I replied. I looked at her, still waiting for her to answer my question.

“I told you where I work,” she said. Voice flat, almost casual. But I felt the tension in it.

“I know.” My time didn't change. “I didn't expect… this.”

“Expected what?” She asked, the corner of her twitching.

I shrugged. “Something else.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

“Something quieter. Something safer,” I said.

She laughed, sharp and short. “ You think dancing makes me unsafe?”

“Not unsafe. Just…” I paused. I didn't know how to explain it. “Unexpected.”

She frowned. “You expected a waitress?”

I didn't answer immediately. I wanted her to feel it. The weight of my gaze. The pull I couldn't name.

“Yes,” I said finally. “I thought someone quieter. Someone… easier to read.”

Her jaw tightened. She didn't step back. She didn't fold. She just stared.

I liked that.

We moved through the crowd. Talked to people. Exchanged names. Polite small talk.

She handled everyone flawlessly. Her smile, her nods, her laugh –perfect. Controlled. But not fake. Not calculated. Genuine.

I watched. I couldn't stop watching.

There was a rhythm between us. Invisible. Unspoken. Dangerous.

I didn't like that. I didn't want it.

But I wanted it.

Later, while the tables cleared, we were alone in a quieter corner.

“So…” I said again. “This… job. Dancing. Is this what you chose?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Is what I chose? Or is what I have to do?”

“I don't know. You tell me.” I looked at her cautiously.

“It's…” she hesitated. Then shrugged. “Circumstances.”

I nodded. I didn't press. I could see it in her face. She hated pity. She hated judgement. And she could smell it a mile away.

“I see,” I said softly.

Her gaze flitted away. She didn't meet mine again. Not fully. Not yet.

“You're…” she started. “You're judging?”

I tilted my head. “Do I look like I am?”

Her lips pressed together. She didn't answer.

She didn't trust me yet. And I didn't care. I wanted her to.

The rest of the evening was a blur of cocktails, handshakes, and polite laughter.

I watched her from time to time. The pull didn't ease. If anything, it grew heavier.

I realized something: I wanted her in my world. Not because I needed a date. Not because it was convenient. I just wanted her there.

And I didn't know why.

When the event ended, we walked outside.

She paused, looking at the dark city. Lights scattered across the skyline.

I wanted to ask her something. Something important. Something that might explain the pull I couldn't name.

But I didn't.

She turned to me, a faint frown in her eyes. “I should go.”

“Yes,” I said.

We stood there for a moment. Neither of us moved. The air was charged, tense.

Her chest rose and fell. My own pulse thrummed in my ears.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to reach out.

But I didn't.

She looked at me one last time. Uncertain. Guarded.

I… I didn't expect this,” she said finally.

“Expect what?”

“You,” she whispered. “ I thought you wouldn't…”

“Wouldn't what?” I asked, confused.

“Not everyone is as privileged as you are. Some of us has no say in what life dish out for us.”

She looked away. Took a step back. The another.

Her shoulders straightened. Pride. Defense. Guardedness.

“I should go,” she repeated.

And she left.

I stayed where I was, watching her walk away.

Her back stiff. Her heels clicking against the pavement. Her body small in the night.

And I realized something I didn't understand.

I didn't know why.

But i wanted her back.

She thought I was judging.

She didn't see me. Didn't see the pull.

The pull that ma

de me want to know everything about her. The pull I couldn't name.

The pull that wouldn't let me forget.

I stayed there until she disappeared from view. 

And the pull lingered.

Waiting.