Another broken promise

Jayda took a deep breath and checked her phone the tenth time in the evening. She was seated at an upscale lounge, her red dress radiating against the warm golden glow of the establishment. A waiter approached, offering a drink, but she politely declined.

Her date was late, yet again.

She tapped her manicured nails against the table, pondering whether to leave. Yet, leaving meant giving up on what had been a carefully planned evening. Instead, she chose to observe the bright surroundings.

Nearby, a businessman in a navy suit laughed loudly at a joke from his younger companion, his laughter filling the room. A group of girls posed for selfies, and their voices blended excitement with a hint of friendly competition. In the corner, a man sat alone, gazing into his glass-perhaps contemplating his own thoughts.

Jayda couldn't help but smile; everyone here seemed to be playing a role-herself included. Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a message: "Something came up. Rain check?" 

She exhaled slowly, locking her phone without responding. Well, that was disappointing. But rather than dwelling on it, she decided it was time to embrace the night. She stood, adjusting her dress, ready to create new plans.

Stepping outside, the cool night air wrapped around her. The streets were alive with energy-cars honking, street vendors appealing to late-night diners, and groups of friends laughing together. She draped her shawl over her shoulders, not just for warmth, but as a comfort.

It was another evening that hadn't gone as planned, but it wasn't over yet. 

As she walked, her heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement. While she wasn't certain of her destination, she knew she needed to break free from the disappointment she felt.

A small bar on the corner caught her eye. It wasn't her usual scene- softly lit, with older patrons absorbed in their drinks and a few younger ones glancing her way. Yet, perhaps this was just what she needed to change her perspective.

She slid onto a stool at the counter. The bartender, a man in his late forties with seasoned eyes, gave her an understanding look.

"Rough night?" he inquired. Jayda returned a knowing smile. "Something like that." He nodded, pouring her a drink without further questions. She appreciated the simplicity of it.

Taking a sip, she let the warmth settle in her throat. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a man watching her- a familiar type who likely thought he could charm her. 

Instead of engaging, she turned her attention to the music playing from an old speaker. It was a nostalgic tune she hadn't heard in ages, evoking memories she wasn't ready to explore, but she let it wash over her.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, she chose not to check it. She already knew it would be another round of apologies and promises unfulfilled.

After finishing her drink, she stood up, feeling empowered. The lively city outside was full of people with stories and adventures waiting to unfold. As she walked past, she felt simultaneously part of the crowd and distinctly her own person.

Maybe going home was an option, or perhaps staying out could lead to new experiences. For once, she resolved to stop waiting for others and start embracing the possibilities the night had to offer.

Jayda took a deep breath as she stepped onto the main road, the city lights twinkling above her like distant stars. The night air carried a blend of car exhaust, the savoury aroma of grilled meat from a nearby vendor, and the lingering scent of rain from earlier in the evening. She wasn't exactly sure where she was headed, but she felt an urge to explore rather than return home just yet.

Her phone buzzed again, prompting her to check the message. "Where are you?" She paused, contemplating the screen before locking her phone. No response would come-not yet.

She understood this familiar pattern: they would seek her out when the whim struck them, when they were bored, or when they needed something. But when the roles were reversed? Silence.

With a sigh, she turned onto a quieter street, her heels loudly clicking softly against the pavement. This part of town felt different and characterized by older buildings and fewer streetlights, with a couple of stray dogs rummaging through garbage. While it wasn't unsafe, it lacked the comfort she craved.

As she walked, she passed a closed tailor shop, where mannequins in the window were draped in half-finished designs frozen in time. A childhood memory sparked in her mind: her mother sewing late into the night, hummed softly. It was a bittersweet reminder she quickly pushed aside.

Continuing her stroll, she noticed a small shop still open, its flickering neon sign adding a touch of nostalgia. This quaint convenience store sold everything from cigarettes to phone chargers and inexpensive whiskey. Jayda pushed the door open, a bell jingling above her head.

The shopkeeper, a man in his sixties, barely looked up from his task. His face was etched with the lines of a life filled with routine. She selected a bottle of water and some mints, placing them on the counter. 

"Late night?" he asked, scanning her items with half-hearted interest. "Something like that," she replied, a smirk forming on her lips.

After paying, she stepped back outside, the city feeling quieter now, the serenity of the night settling in around her. She contemplated heading home but paused as her phone buzzed again.

This time, she decided to answer. "Where are you?" the voice inquired once more. She hesitated, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Now you care?"

The sigh on the other end conveyed frustration- perhaps tinged with guilt. "Just tell me where you are."

She took a moment to observe her surroundings, the empty street, the soft glow of the neon sign behind her, and the distant hum of traffic.

Then, with intent, she hung up. Tonight, she chose to be answerable only to herself.

Her heels continually clicked rhythmically against the pavement as she walked, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. A distant look settled in her eyes, a telltale sign of her mind's struggle between past memories and present realities, leaving her in a state of restlessness.

Unbeknownst to her, a black sedan glided alongside, its engine humming quietly. 

Inside the car, the driver, a man in his late thirties, couldn't help but admire her. The way her dress accentuated her figure, the graceful sway in her walk, and the confidence radiating from her were captivating enough to momentarily distract him from the road.

Suddenly, a piercing horn broke through her reverie. She instinctively snapped back to the moment just in time to feel the rush of wind as another vehicle swerved to avoid her, its tyres screeching against the asphalt. She stumbled back onto the sidewalk, with her heart racing.

The driver of the sedan cursed softly, slamming on the brakes. "Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Jayda took a deep breath, steadying herself as annoyance began to rise. Turning to see the source of the disturbance, she found the driver stepping out of his car, an apologetic smile on his face. 

"You good?" he asked, approaching her, she crossed her arms defensively. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You nearly caused an accident while staring at me."

The man chuckled, seemingly unfazed. "It's hard to focus when you look like that."

"I suppose that's supposed to be an excuse?" she replied, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, "No, just an observation."

With a sigh, she prepared to walk away, but he called out, "Hey, hold on. Let me at least make up for it."

Curiosity piqued; she turned slightly. "And what do you suggest for that?"

He gestured toward his car. "I could give you a lift wherever you're headed." She studied him for a moment, taking in his smooth confidence, tailored suit, and the sleek shine of his car under the streetlights. She had encountered men like him before- charming and bold, often assuming they were in control.

With a playful smirk, she replied, "Tempting, but I think I'll pass."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving him behind with the sound of her heels fading into the night.

Jayda woke up to the gentle drone of her air conditioner, accompanied by the niggling scent of vanilla in her sheets. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm beams across her neatly arranged bedroom. She took a moment to stretch and let out a contented sigh before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. A few unread messages and missed calls awaited her- nothing pressing.

Mornings were her sanctuary, a cherished time before the world began to demand her attention. She savoured her shower, allowing the warm water to melt away any tension. By the time she emerged, she felt rejuvenated and ready to tackle the day ahead.

Dressed in a fitted olive-green dress and nude heels, Jayda took a moment to admire her reflection in the mirror before stepping out into the city. The familiar chaos greeted her: horns honking, vendors calling out, and the rich aroma of roasted plantains blending with the smell of car exhaust. She thrived in this vibrant environment; it was alive and filled with possibilities.

First on her list was coffee. Her favourite café, conveniently located near the library, offered a peaceful retreat from the bustling streets- a perfect place to gather her thoughts before the day unfolded. Upon entering, the intoxicating aroma of fresh coffee and pastries enveloped her. After ordering her usual- black coffee with no sugar- she settled into a window seat.

As she sipped her coffee, her phone buzzed again. A message from an old acquaintance caught her eye, but she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to respond. Setting her phone aside, she turned her attention to her surroundings and noticed someone at a corner table.

It was Janice, partially hidden behind a book, completely engrossed in her reading. There was an effortless quality about her presence, suggesting she triumphed in restful settings where whispers and the rustling of pages filled the air.

Normally, Jayda wouldn't hesitate to approach someone, but this moment felt different. Although she didn't know Janice well, she had seen her navigate the city with a quiet confidence that piqued her interest.

Gathering her courage, Jayda approached with her coffee in hand. "Do you always read in places like this?" she inquired, sliding into the seat across from Janice without waiting for an invitation.

Startled for a brief moment, Janice looked up but didn't seem put off. "I enjoy the quiet," she replied.

Jayda smirked. "I find quiet to be overrated sometimes." She took a sip of her coffee. "You work at the library, right?"

Janice nodded. "Do you visit often?"

"Not really. I have a complicated relationship with books," Jayda admitted with a grin.

Janice chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing on her lips. Jayda noticed how her fingers gently traced the spine of her book as if it were a familiar friend.

"So," Janice said, closing her book, "what brings you here today?"

Jayda reclined slightly, savouring her coffee. "Maybe I was hoping for a good conversation."

Janice studied her for a moment, weighing the sincerity of her words. After a brief pause, she leaned in slightly. "Alright," she said with a welcoming smile. "Let's talk."