Distance Is a Strange Teacher

By Tuesday morning, Raymond had made a decision.

It wasn’t written down.

He didn’t announce it.

He simply decided that, for a while…

…he would keep his distance.

No more dropping by the design studio for casual conversations.

No more calling Zai into his office unless it was absolutely necessary.

No more reasons for people to talk.

It sounded simple in his head.

In practice…

It felt surprisingly difficult.

Zai noticed the change before lunch.

The previous week, Raymond had visited the studio almost every day.

Today, he hadn’t appeared once.

She didn’t think much of it.

After all, he was the CEO.

He had an entire company to run.

Still…

When she found herself glancing toward the door for the third time that morning, she frowned.

“What exactly are you expecting?” she muttered to herself.

Funke looked up from the cutting table.

“You say something?”

“No.”

“I was talking to myself.”

Funke chuckled.

“That’s usually when the best arguments happen.”

Around noon, the design team gathered for a fabric sourcing meeting.

Instead of Raymond, another executive handled it.

The meeting was efficient.

Professional.

Almost… dull.

As everyone filed out, one of the junior designers whispered,

“Oga has been hiding these two days.”

Another replied,

“Maybe Madam has finally given him more work.”

They laughed.

The joke sounded harmless.

But it made Zai strangely uncomfortable.

After work, she boarded a BRT bus home.

It was packed, as usual.

Someone argued over change.

A toddler cried because his mother refused to buy him plantain chips from a hawker at the traffic light.

An elderly man complained loudly about the cost of diesel.

Life moved exactly as it always had.

And somehow…

That grounded her.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her sketchbook.

The woman sitting beside her glanced at the drawings.

“My daughter is learning fashion.”

Zai smiled.

“Really?”

“She’s seventeen.”

“She wants to open her own shop.”

“That’s beautiful.”

The woman sighed.

“Her father says fashion isn’t a real career.”

Zai closed her sketchbook gently.

“My mother sells food.”

“My younger brother is still looking for stable work.”

She smiled warmly.

“If I had listened to people who said fashion wasn’t a real career…”

She looked out of the window.

“…I’d probably still be waiting for permission to dream.”

The woman nodded slowly.

“I’ll tell her you said that.”

At LuxeThread, Adanna was walking through the production floor with Chinedu.

They were reviewing delivery schedules.

As they passed the design studio, she stopped.

“Where’s Raymond?”

Chinedu checked his tablet.

“Board meeting.”

“And before that?”

“He spent the morning with the finance team.”

She nodded once.

“Thank you.”

They continued walking.

Another quiet observation.

Another small piece added to a puzzle only she could see.

That evening, Raymond was the last person to leave the office.

Again.

He stood in the empty design studio.

Rows of mannequins cast long shadows under the dim lights.

On one table sat a forgotten sketchbook.

He walked closer.

It wasn’t Zai’s.

It belonged to one of the interns.

He smiled at himself.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

He didn’t have an answer.

His phone buzzed.

Adanna.

Are you still at the office?

He replied.

Leaving now.

Her response came seconds later.

Drive safely.

Simple.

Kind.

Normal.

Yet guilt settled quietly inside him.

Nothing had happened.

Nothing inappropriate.

Nothing physical.

And still…

He felt as though he was hiding something.

Wednesday morning brought the first round of mentorship applications.

HR placed sealed submission boxes at reception.

Employees lined up to submit their forms.

Some looked confident.

Others looked terrified.

Zai held her application in both hands.

She had rewritten her personal statement four times.

Not because she lacked achievements.

Because she wanted every word to be true.

She stepped forward.

Dropped the envelope into the box.

And exhaled.

“There.”

“No taking it back now.”

As she turned away, another envelope slipped into the box.

She glanced sideways.

It was from a young designer named Amaka.

The two women smiled politely at each other.

Neither knew…

Only three people would be selected.

---

Later that afternoon, HR sent another email.

Selected applicants will each be interviewed by a three-person panel.

Panel Members:

Mrs. Adanna Okonkwo

External Fashion Consultant

Independent Business Strategist

Raymond’s name was nowhere on the list.

The rumours in the office stopped almost immediately.

Even the biggest gossip had to admit…

If Raymond wasn’t choosing candidates…

Then nobody could accuse him of favouritism.

Just before closing time, Zai heard a knock on her workstation.

She looked up.

It was Raymond’s assistant.

“Miss Adebayo.”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Okonkwo asked me to give you this.”

He handed her a brown envelope.

Her heart skipped.

She looked around instinctively.

Several colleagues had already noticed.

She opened it immediately.

Inside…

Was a printed schedule.

Nothing more.

She unfolded it.

Johannesburg Collection Timeline

At the bottom, a handwritten note read:

Every designer received a copy today.

Mine is simply the last one because I was in meetings all afternoon.

Raymond.

She looked back at the assistant.

“Everyone got this?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been delivering them all over the building.”

She smiled.

“Thank you.”

As the assistant walked away, Funke leaned over.

“What is it?”

Zai handed her the schedule.

Funke read the note.

A small smile appeared on her face.

“Smart man.”

“What do you mean?”

“He could have called you upstairs.”

Instead…

She tapped the paper.

“…he made sure everything stayed transparent.”

Zai looked at the note again.

For reasons she couldn’t explain…

It made her respect Raymond even more.

Because she realized something.

He had noticed the whispers too.

And instead of pretending they didn’t exist…

He had quietly started protecting her from them.

What neither of them knew…

Was that someone else had also noticed the change.

As Adanna walked past the studio on her way out, she saw the brown envelope in Zai’s hands.

She didn’t stop.

She didn’t ask questions.

She simply kept walking.

But later that night…

She added another sentence to her leather notebook.

Distance changes behaviour.

The question is whether it changes feelings.

She closed the notebook.

Then switched off the light.

For the first time since Zai joined LuxeThread…

The game had changed.

No one was chasing.

No one was confronting.

Everyone…

…was waiting.

Engagement Question

Do you think creating distance makes feelings disappear, or does it sometimes make people realize how much someone has quietly become part of their daily life?

To be continued…