Fate untold, Fate Retold

The following days rolled by like scenes from a movie neither of them had planned. After that night in the car, something changed. Not loudly, but clearly.

Zara and Kene became… comfortable.

She no longer sat in the back seat.

She'd slide into the passenger seat with her iced coffee in hand and talk—about her father, business meetings, random frustrations, or what she thought of life when she wasn't being the CEO's daughter.

Kene listened. Sometimes with a smirk. Sometimes with silence.

But he listened.

And when she was quiet, he didn't fill the silence with noise. He just let it be.

***

One Thursday afternoon, Zara came into the car fuming. "Why do men always assume they're doing you a favour by existing?"

Kene raised a brow, pulling away from the office building. "What happened now?"

"Jude. He said—ugh—he said I'm 'too opinionated' for a woman and that's probably why I'm single."

Kene chuckled, earning a sharp glare from her.

"It's not funny."

"No, it's not. But it is kind of predictable," he said.

Zara folded her arms. "You agree with him?"

"No," Kene said, calmly. "But I think you care too much about what people like him think."

She turned to him, defensive. "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one constantly told how to behave or how much space you're allowed to take."

He kept his eyes on the road but his voice tightened. "You think I've never been told how to exist?"

Silence.

Zara looked down. "That's not what I meant."

Kene nodded. "I know."

They didn't speak for the rest of the drive.

***

The next morning, she apologized.

She handed him a coffee and said, quietly, "You were right. I was projecting."

He gave her a small smile. "You're forgiven. But don't let it happen again or I'll start charging emotional consultation fees."

Zara laughed, tension breaking like morning light through clouds. "You wish. You can't even afford my mood swings."

"I'm surviving so far."

And like that, they were back to laughter and side glances that lasted too long. Back to sharing songs in traffic, teasing each other's tastes, and finishing each other's sarcastic sentences.

But under it all, Kene felt it—*a pull*.

He was falling.

Slowly. Secretly.

He'd catch himself watching her when she wasn't looking—when she chewed the tip of her pen or laughed from her belly or cried watching a movie she swore she hated.

But he kept it to himself.

Because what could he offer her?

He was a man with calloused hands and a stained past.

She was… *Zara Adebayo*.

***

That Friday, Zara's friends came visiting.

Three of them. Loud. Glamorous. Dripping with gloss and perfume.

Kene had driven them to the Adebayo estate after picking them up from brunch.

"Girl, is this your driver?" one of them, Remi, asked, eyes trailing Kene's frame.

Zara hesitated. "Yeah. Why?"

"He's cute."

Zara gave a dry smile. "He's not a toy."

Remi giggled. "Relax, I was just saying. But if you're not using him…"

"I'm not *using* anyone," Zara snapped, sharper than she intended.

The other girls exchanged glances.

Remi raised a brow. "Okay, chill. Didn't know it was like *that*."

Zara walked ahead without answering. Her hands were shaking slightly.

***

Later that night, Kene approached her near the garden.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.

"You've been quiet since your friends left."

Zara sighed. "They're not *bad* people… but they talk too much. Joke about things they shouldn't."

Kene gave a small nod. "Like me."

She looked up. "No. Not you. About you."

His face was unreadable. "Zara… you don't owe me any explanations. I'm just your driver."

Her eyes darkened. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth."

"It's not all you are."

They stood facing each other in the half-light.

But before either could say more, a voice interrupted them.

"Kene."

It was Mr. Adebayo.

Zara's father.

The CEO.

Kene straightened immediately. "Good evening, sir."

Mr. Adebayo's eyes were cold, sharp. "Come to my study."

Zara's stomach dropped.

Kene followed without a word.

***

Twenty minutes passed before Kene returned.

His face was calm. Too calm.

Zara stood waiting at the entrance. "What did he say?"

Kene avoided her eyes. "He asked for my resignation."

She blinked. "What?"

"I've been relieved of my position."

"Why?"

"He said there was a breach of professionalism."

Zara's face paled. "Because of me."

Kene didn't answer.

"I'll talk to him—"

"No," he cut in gently. "Don't."

"Kene—"

"I knew this wasn't going to last," he said softly. "People like me don't stay in houses like this."

Tears welled in her eyes. "This isn't fair."

"I know."

A long pause.

"I never wanted to be just your driver," he admitted, voice cracking. "But I didn't want to be your mistake either."

Zara reached for him, but he stepped back.

"I'll be gone in the morning."

Then he walked past her into the dark.

Leaving behind the scent of rain…

…and a silence that screamed louder than any goodbye.