Hidden Passion

Lillian walked gently to meet the only friend she had made in her father's neighborhood. She'd come to spend the holiday with her father, and it had ended so quick. She would be leaving the next day, which was Sunday to get ready for Monday.

She was going to miss her friend. The first time they met, he had been very warm to her and they had become fast friends, if not best friends.

Now, she was going to her mother's house. She was going to miss her friend. Her parents didn't live together, and she had chosen to live with her mother, so she only visited her father during holidays and special occasions like birthday.

Lillian had agreed to meet her friend at their favorite place in town before she left for Lagos. She smiled as she saw him under the shade of the tree they usually sat under to chat and went to sit beside him. His house was only a few steps away.

"Hello, Lilly,” her friend greeted. He loved calling her by her shortened name.

"Hi, Nath,” Lillian replied with a broad smile. He was the only person that called her that nickname. She loved it and wanted it to be that way forever.

They said nothing for a while until Nathaniel broke the silence. "You're leaving tomorrow, right?"

She nodded.

"When will you come back?" His voice was full of worry and bitterness.

"I don't know. That depends on my mother. And she got into a fight with my dad on the phone, so I'm not sure if I can come here again,” Lillian said, looking up at him.

Despite sitting, he was still taller than her. At eighteen, he was two years older than her.

"Does that mean we might not get to see each other again?" Nath asked.

"We might…in the future,” she replied but Nath only shook his head and excused himself. He went inside the house he lived in with his mother, brought out some strange tools, and bent before her.

"I am going to write on your arm, Lilly,” he told her.

Shocked and scared, she asked, “What? Why?"

"I don't recognize people easily, Lilly. And I want to be able to recognize you in the future,” he explained.

That was true. The only person he could recognize really well was his mother. He could only guess everyone else’s faces even if he had seen them a million times. He would have loved to be treated by opticians, but his family was not well off like Lilly's.

She could only look at him and ask, “Will it hurt?"

"I will do it gently, so it won't,” he assured.

"I'm scared, Nath. I'm really scared. What if…What if I die?" She voiced her fear.

"No, you won't. Believe me, you will not die. I will use this thing to rub it, 'he assured again, showing her an ointment.

"Okay. I trust you,” Lilly uttered and moments later, he was already scribbling on her left arm while she groaned in pain with closed eyes.

"It's done,” he said after scribbling on her arm.

Lillian forced a smile and tilted her head to a side to look at her as she tried to read what was there. "Li…Lilly...Na…th. LillyNath?" She inquired with a painful smile.

"Yes. That's our name, Lilly and Nath. LillyNath,” he pointed out.

"Okay, but what about my mum?" She asked. She was still worried about it. "What if my mum kills me?"

"No, Lilly. She will never do that to you. Since you said you have your own room, that will help because you will not be dressing in her presence. And you can wear long sleeves to hide the tattoo,” Nath said.

"So this is a tattoo? I hate tattoos. Where did you learn how to do it?"

Nath smiled. "From my uncle. This is not really a tattoo, though, because that requires a machine. But it's still a kind of tattoo."

"Okay, then." Lilly affirmed and painfully covered her arms with the sleeves of her shirt.

"I will miss you, Lilly."

"I will miss you too, Nath," she confessed and hugged him tightly with one hand. She couldn't lift the other. It was still aching, but she hoped he would really be able to recognize her with that in the future.

Lillian swayed her hips from side to side as she walked down the hallway of her mother's company. She was radiating happiness and her beauty made every employees' mouth water. Most of them could not help but look at her more than once. She was walking with confidence and each step she took spoke a lot. She was every man's dreams and every lady's goal and her proud parents’ only daughter.

She adjusted the front of her long-sleeved shirt, which she had paired with a knee-length black skirt. She was the company’s personal assistant while her mother was the CEO, so she needed to look her best. People probably wondered why she wore a long-sleeved shirt in the very hot weather conditions, but she had her reasons. Not that she actually minded, though.

She had a tattoo on her arm. Perhaps, it was not a big deal, but not to her. Not that she couldn’t flaunt it to the world. Of course, she could. She loved it. There were times she would look at it in the mirror and reminisce about her past and how it had been twelve years already. She had not once forgotten him, but she was happy. The inscription was an everyday reminder of her memories with him and that was why she kept the promise she made to him by not wearing sleeveless shirts and tops outside her home.

Even if she sometimes missed him, she was still happy. She believed he would come back for her if they were really meant to be together.

She got to her office and started working on the files she had on her desk. It wasn’t like she was the owner of the company. She could not help but imagine how much more would be on her mother's desk, and knowing her mother, they would be easy for her.

She decided to go to her mother's office in the afternoon to check on her since they had not seen each other that day. It happened like that sometimes. Even though they lived in the same house, her mother would always wake up first and come to work earlier than any other employee. That was her mother’s habit she wished to cultivate. She was a typical definition of a workaholic.

***

Mrs. Grace Williams, founder of the Williams Modeling Company, adjusted her glasses to sit on her nose as she picked up a magazine to read an advertising company that had submitted a request for a model. She couldn't give out models to any company without a reputable name but El_En seemed to be okay.

She looked up as the door of her office opened and revealed her one and only daughter, who sashayed into the room and sat in front of her.

"Hi, mum,” she greeted with one of her sweetest smiles.

"Darling, what's wrong? Do you need anything?" Grace asked.

"No, mum. I'm just tired. It's almost closing time and I haven't rounded up my work,” she said and rubbed her eyes slightly.

"And you came here thinking I would pat you on the head that you've done a good job?" her mother asked. Even if she was her daughter, Mrs. Williams was not the type of person who encouraged people who were not hardworking. "You can just be a model if being my assistant is too hectic a position for you."

"Look, mum, if I were to become a model, I am telling you, I'd be the only one in this company,” she bragged.

"May I ask why?"

"It's obvious and simple. I am too beautiful to have competitors,” she said firmly and smiled.

Her mother started laughing and almost had her lungs out in the process. "You are too full of yourself. Just like your foolish dad."

"Dad is unlike you. He's sweet."

"Sweet, my foot!"

"I know you are jealous. Why can't you be as sweet as dad? Gosh, that man is so loving and caring…" she was saying when her mother angrily slapped the surface of her desk.

"Shut your mouth and don't bring your dad into this conversation,” her mother vented.

It was her daughter's turn to laugh. "It seems you're forgetting something. You brought him up yourself. Well, I know you're still in love with that cutie,” she teased.

Mrs. Williams was confused. "Cutie? Who is the cutie? What cutie are you talking about?"

"Who else? It's my one and only dad, of course."

"What? That oldie is cute?"

"You're old, too. You should be planning your retirement."

"I'm still a very young woman. Even if I retire, is it your lazy ass that will sit in this chair?" her mother hissed.

"Of course, who else? I am really tired, mum. Can I just go home, and I’ll finish my work tomorrow?"

Her mother laughed. "You dare not, baby. You must finish that work on your desk before you go home, honey. You can call your dad to come and help. I won't mind."

"Saying you miss the old man would have been better,” she whispered and yawned with her eyes closed. She opened her eyes and saw the cover of the magazine in her mother's hands.

"Lill—” her mother was going to ask her what she thought about the deal with El_En.

"Wait, mum,” she said, not shifting her eyes from the magazine which had the picture of a very handsome and familiar young man. "Is this not—” she paused.

"Who?" her mother asked, staring at the cover.