Sometimes the heart…#40 & 41

Credit: iconScout

First loves don’t always fade. Sometimes they wait. A story about second chances, soulful glances, and the roads we take to find our way back.

📖 New episodes every Sunday. #Romance #SlowBurn #MediumSeries

Read: Sometimes the heart…#36–39

40.

Spike heels, in a hurried quest to reach the bathroom at the beginning of the 4th floor passage, hit the marbled floor in a staccato rhythm. Naji made it to the toilet bowl with a second to spare.

Her insides erupted.

Burnt toast. Zobo. Crackers and other unidentifiable tastes turned her mouth into a sewer once they reappeared from her bowels. There went her breakfast and everything else holding her together since last night.

FE stood by the line of wash basins when Naji staggered out of the cubicle finally, concern etched on her face. ‘Ndo nne. Are you ok?’

In the waist-length mirror above the basins, Naji saw her drained reflection shake its head. She turned on a tap. The cool water provided a reprieve.

No surprise there at FE’s presence; she was certain the entire 4th floor heard her hasty trips to the bathroom. At least four in the last two hours. It would be easy to single out who was making the constant tap tap tap noise; there were only three women up here now. FE, close to 50, had four children with no plans for

more. It could be Adaobi, the youngest of the lot, single and searching, but her office was farther down the hallway. The swinging needle stopped on the latest entrant into the 4th floor, one half of the golden couple of Estate I, otherwise known as Mrs. Fawaz, who also just happened to have spent a day in the hospital last week.

To her chagrin, the nausea announced itself violently yesterday morning. By the time the retching ceased, Tayo crouched beside her, rubbing her back and murmuring support. Two more times of close contact with the toilet bowl, and she felt like a feather detached from its host body and saw her man as a tree.

Tayo, waiting on her hand and foot, couldn’t have made the onset of her condition more bearable. She was thankful, too, that the children were spared the sight. It delayed their daily visit to his house until noon, after which he disappeared for the better part of five hours.

In the presence of the girls and the children, her bowels behaved admirably, driving her once to the bathroom. However, she found herself hiding in Tayo’s room when the odour of vegetable oil on heat seeped out of the kitchen.

This morning, she came prepared for the nausea. Well, almost. She had to remember to pack flat, noiseless soles so as not to blare her bathroom trips to the entire office.

With the aid of one early bird, Eric, she relocated to the 4th floor of the office complex, having been unusually punctual to effect the move before other staff populated the 3rd floor. She had no plans to make bathroom runs frequently in the full glare of her subordinates. Plus, the restroom above was closer to her office. She’d totally forgotten about its serenity until her heels echoed loudly during the first incidence of projectile vomiting.

After her second trip, Mr. Ayodele, who for some reason was in before 8.30 am, called her into his office as she tottered past. What was the matter? Did the hospital do more harm than good? He inquired, only for his dark gaze to twinkle at her response. He offered his sincere congratulations, releasing her back on her merry way.

Now her fourth trip had drawn FE to the bathroom to investigate her situation. Naji cupped a palm and made a curved motion over her belly.

It didn’t take long for FE to catch on. The revelation had the older woman slapping pudgy palms together in unsuppressed delight, her matronly face wreathed in smiles. ‘Congratulations to you and our darling Dr. Tayo. I’m sure he’s incredibly happy.’ She tore off several rounds of white tissue from a roll beside her and handed them over.

Naji nodded her thanks. ‘He’s trying to be a man about it,’ she muttered beneath folds of fluff.

‘Do you want anything?’ FE asked. ‘I can get you hot agidi, or do you want akamu instead? Then –’

Naji held up a hand with a wan smile. ‘I’ll let you know, FE. Thanks a lot.’

‘Any time nne. Anytime.’ She patted Naji’s arm lightly, fondly, the way she would a younger sister.

The two women exited the enclosure together. Naji hoped her retching quota was up for the day so she could finally get down to work. Her stomach growled as she parted ways with FE whose office marked the end of the hallway.

Another door creaked open as she disappeared into the safety of her office and made straight for the foil paper package sitting on her desk. Therein contained her saviour from hormones raging fiercely within her.

She collapsed onto her chair, kicked off her heels and sank her teeth into a piece of toast from the three slices left. Several bites later and nearing a normal state, her mobile rang.

Adaobi emerged from her office to behold a lone FE striding down the passage. ‘Good morning FE,’ she greeted. ‘You haven’t been the one rushing up and down all the while, have you?’ She already knew the answer to the question. FE’s soles fell under two categories — sensible wedges and block heels; she doubted that the CFO had ever worn three-inch, pencil heels or higher in her entire life. She asked anyway, considering they were the only two women on the floor.

Like most management staff, only those who’d actually seen Naji move upstairs that morning — FE & Mr. Ayodele — were aware she now occupied her legitimate office on the level.

FE shook her head, her smile on its way to a slow death. ‘It’s Mrs. Fawaz. She’s pregnant,’ she said, without breaking her stride.

On hearing the news, Adaobi felt her world shift on its axis. She clenched a fist impulsively .

In her office, oblivious of the effect her condition was wreaking on another colleague, Naji talked on the phone, chatting and munching simultaneously. ‘This is the third time in two hours, Tay,’ she was saying. ‘I’m not an invalid.’

‘True, but because you’re carrying my child,’ he replied, ‘that makes you the second most delicate person in my life right now.’

‘Who dares to usurp me from the first position? Who? Tell me!’ She teased.

He chuckled. ‘How are you doing, love?’

She sighed. ‘Better now than a couple of minutes ago. I can read my to-do list.’

‘Do you want me to get you anything in particular?’

‘No, I’m good. Thanks.’

‘Are we still on for lunch later?’

‘Yes, yes, please.’

‘I’ll pick you up at 12.30 then. Now to the reason I called.’

‘You mean I’m not reason enough? I’m shocked.’

Tayo’s laughter boomed down the line heartily. ‘You’re all my reasons, Enajiomo. Don’t forget that,’ he told her. ‘I heard back from the disciplinary panel this morning. There’s a strange proviso. They recommended certain penalties for Taofick, and if you considered them not stringent enough, then they could be adjusted.’

‘Me?’ Naji’s low register filled with surprise. ‘Nasiru has started his one-month suspension here without pay. When he returns, he’d begin from the bottom rung. Nobody needed my opinion to set that ball rolling. Why are your people dragging me into it? Taofick is the least of my worries right now.’

‘My thoughts exactly!’ He agreed. ‘Make your recommendations and leave my wife out of it!’

Silence on the Naji’s side for a beat. ‘Tay, you still haven’t told me where you took off to yesterday.’

‘Babe, ask me anything else but that.’

‘We’re keeping things from each other now? And I’m about to take your name? Have your child?’

Tayo remained unfazed. ‘Blackmail sounds alien on you, Enajiomo! Uhmm, Dr. Familoni just walked in. I have to g -,’

‘Now you’re lying!’ Her voice bubbled with laughter.

‘See you later.’ The rustic tone reflected hers. He broke the connection before she could utter anything else.

41.

‘Grand gesture? What’s that?’ Trish’s tenor note echoed with confusion at the other end.

Naji made a restless movement in the air with one hand. ‘Y’know, something that puts me out there, that strengthens my commitment to us?’

‘What have you done now that needs repairing, Naji?’ Trish queried, tenor tone rising.

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just want to do something out of the ordinary for him.’

‘Eh hen, buy him a present.’

‘Pedestrian. A grand gesture should entail a lot of planning, maybe a risk and sometimes doing something you’d normally not do, and be a total surprise. A grand gesture is far from easy, that’s why it’s so-called.’

‘Ok. Do a lap dance or get a pole,’ Trish said, with a laugh.

Naji joined in. ‘You’re a spoilt woman, Trish. Give your life to Christ!’

The other woman exploded into raucous laughter. ‘Isn’t that grand enough? Either one you choose, it will be a complete surprise and so uncomfortable for you plus…yummy, you’ll be wearing only your underwear. Not sure what will happen after you’re done with your routine, sha.’

Naji almost choked. ‘You’re not helping at all. And I called you for ideas.’

‘Does a weekend getaway qualify?’ Trish became serious once again.

Naji shook her head as though her friend sat on the bed with her. ‘I thought about that already. I can’t burden Ruona or his sister with the kids for much longer,’ she said. ‘They’ve been taking care of them for nearly a week now,’ she explained. ‘And I want this done this weekend.’

‘Has the ring arrived yet?’ Her friend inquired abruptly.

‘Trish, focus!’

‘That’s a no. So what’s the rush?’

‘Saturday’s three days away. Soon the kids will be back and there might not be time for Tayo and me like that anymore.’

‘How’s the nausea?’

‘Ah, much better in the evenings. The queasiness reduces drastically until the next morning. I can actually see road from evenings.’

‘It’s a boy, then. What sex does doctor want?’

‘Trish! You’re going off point! And distracting me.’ A trifle frustrated, Naji tried to steer her friend back to the matter at hand.

‘Answer me naaaa.’

‘Yeah, he wants a boy.’

‘I knew it!’

‘Patricia!’ Naji was teetering on the edge of her wit.

‘Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok. Don’t go and get high BP in your condition.’ Her friend quipped. ‘Hmm…grand gesture…uncomfortable…complete surprise for him…uneasy…some planning,’ she rehashed the elements slowly. ‘I think I might have an idea.’

‘Well, what is it?’

‘You might not like it.’-

‘As long as it’s not a striptease, tell me!’

Tayo leaned towards Naji; one hand curved around her headrest, and the other caressed her stomach. His denim shirted shoulder brushed against her exposed one in the black, collared, sleeveless dress she had on.

She let out a little smile and, without looking at him, placed a hand over his; her gaze riveted on the spotlighted figure of Ruona belting out Adele’s Hello on the raised, compact stage some distance away.

The young lady commanded a captive audience; everyone in the club, whether at the bar or seated among the growing gathering of patrons on soft furnishings arranged around and beside the basketball court-sized dance floor, had their eyes on her. The silence almost reverent against the backdrop of her well-paced, soprano pitch, giving a mesmerising rendition of the hit song from the previous year.

A table away, his mobile phone suspended in the air, Maro recorded the moment for posterity. No other expression in the room matched the mix of surprise and pride stamped on his face.

‘You’re right,’ Tayo whispered, ‘she sings like an angel. Look at Maro, like the owner.’

Naji’s smile extended to include her upper teeth as she turned aside; her fringed hairstyle going the way her head went. ‘Isn’t he the owner?’

Tayo’s brows lifted out of his frames. ‘Since when?’

‘One week today, according to Kemi.’

‘Hmmm…interesting. Did you tell him that as his boss, you have no problem with him seeing her? But as her elder sister, may he not give Enajiomo reason to — say it in Urhobo for effect — burst bottle on his smooth, shaven head?’

Naji covered her mouth with a hand to shield the ensuing laughter. ‘You’re not good sometimes, Tay.’

‘Is that why you insisted on this double date? When we could be somewhere quiet, and I can have you all to myself?’

‘Didn’t you enjoy this homegrown talent?’ Naji raised her voice as applause and whistles erupted all around: Ruona had finished singing. ‘She used to be in the church choir preteen until she developed sense and noticed boys.’

Beside her, Tayo grinned. ‘She hasn’t lost it apparently. Unlike some of us I know who can scare sparrows with our voices.’

Naji loathed singing for obvious reasons — her low register. She eyed him; her face under the fringe a little vexed and stunning in equal measure.

‘What?’ Her beau faked innocence. ‘I didn’t call any names.’ He paused, and the brown eyes behind the rimmed frames narrowed slightly. ‘This your hairstyle, sha.’

She twisted her neck from side to side, and the charcoal black, short strands swayed along. ‘What? You don’t like it?’ The memory of his utterly stupefied look hours before, when she first appeared with it back in the house, was still fresh in her mind.

‘What did you do to your hair?!’ He’d demanded in alarm.

Maro and Ruona, also present and waiting, collapsed into noiseless laughter behind him.

With barely concealed amusement, Naji replied: ‘Tay darling, it’s underneath. This is a wig.’

‘You didn’t cut it?’ He seemed unconvinced.

‘No, it’s all there. Intact, ‘ she assured gently, moving nearer to his rigid frame in the dining area.

‘Still trying to get accustomed to the familiar yet strange goddess beside me,’ he replied presently, lightly fingering the fringe. ‘You remind me of someone I can’t readily think of.’

‘Someone nice, I hope?’

His lips curved. ‘I hope so too.’ Then he grinned widely as his gaze shifted from her to Ruona, returning to the table beside them to join Maro who rose to his feet.

Tayo applauded silently. ‘Ever thought of a career in singing?’ He asked as she flushed beneath his praise.

‘If this law thing doesn’t work out,’ she said. ‘It’s my Plan B.’

Tayo nodded his approval and gave her a thumbs-up sign. He turned back to the woman by his side.

In the background, someone began murdering Justin Bieber’s Love Yourself on the stage. The confident smile on the lady singer’s face wreaked havoc on her auditory sense.

‘Can we go n-?’ Tayo started.

‘Have you called your m-?’ Naji began at the same time.

They stopped talking together.

‘You first,’ he spoke again.

‘Have you called your parents yet?’ She asked.

He shook his head. ‘Right after we see your mum tomorrow. Then I’ll have a robust conversation with them. My dad’s not the issue. It’s my mum who will bring on the talk. That’s what I’m dreading.’ He mimicked his mum’s strident tones; his rustic sound making the effect comical. ‘So soon? Who is she? Do we know her family? Asoebi. Owambe. Kinikor. Kinikor.’

Naji was giggling before he finished. ‘Tay, please!’

‘What did you tell your mum?’ He wanted to know.

‘That I was bringing her future son-in-law to see her,’ she replied. ‘She went silent for an entire minute. I thought she’d cut the call or had a heart attack. Then she couldn’t get her words out fast enough. I told her to save all her questions for you, that you were tall and big enough to answer them and even the ones she’d forget to ask.’

The massacre on stage had reached croaking proportions; the kind a group of bad-tempered frogs would produce. It truncated Tayo’s chuckling reaction to her words.

‘Babe, can we go now?’ His voice came out a tinge irritable. ‘Karaoke’s over, and I don’t want to be here when the club starts. It’s not my scene.’

Naji joined in isolated patches of applause which greeted the end of the onstage disaster. ‘Not your scene, Tay?’ She inclined her head a little with a knowing look. His ringing phone pierced through just then. ‘A little bird told me you club-hopped not too long ago.’

He extracted the device from a pocket and glanced at it. ‘Is that little bird -,’ he showed her the screen lit up by Steve’s name. ‘- this same person?’

She refrained from confirming or denying his suspicion, but nodded when he rose to take the call in a quiet corner. The night was turning out to be more fun than she’d anticipated and unfolding exactly as planned, too, she thought, trailing the progress of her beau until he disappeared out of sight. She got up too, nodded at Maro and Ruona, and strode off in the opposite direction.

Thinking he was on his way out, one of the men at the entrance stretched to open the heavy, oakwood door. Tayo stopped him with a simple motion and continued talking on the phone glued to his left ear. ‘Man, how did talk between Enajiomo and you stray to my nights out with Adaobi?’ He asked. ‘Where did you two even meet?’

Steve’s laughter was bellyful. ‘She called me o! And started asking some exciting questions. I replied na. What did you want me to do?’

‘Really? When?’

‘Sunday, I think. She called to say thanks for Friday’s emergency, then asked if you were with me, and we got talking.’

Strains of percussion and plucked strings drifted faintly in Tayo’s direction as he chatted with his friend; it was the beginning of another song. He paid no attention. ‘Are you people planning something against me?’ He asked.

‘Ah, why are you thinking like that? Harmless gist, man.’

Tayo could detect zilch in the other man’s voice to his credit. ‘I don’t know. Just a gut feeling. This outing for on-,’

‘Well, shelve it, my friend. Nothing’s going on. I wanted to –,’

The sounds from the karaoke area became distinct, and seconds later, a voice crooned above the now familiar backing track.

With all my heart,

I love you, baby.

It pulled Tayo away from the entrance. ‘Steve, just a minute. I need to…,’ his voice trailed off with Steve’s on the phone fading into the background.

Both sounds registered way before he beheld the sight now on stage.

Stay with me, and you will feel

My arms will hold you, baby

Enajiomo singing their song!

Taken by surprise for the second time that night, Tayo moved forward, like one hypnotised, towards the seated gathering, closer to the unbelievable vision and music unravelling in front of him.

‘Tayo! Tayo!’ Steve’s pip squeak voice vied for his friend’s attention over the line.

Never leave ’cause I believe I’m in love

Sweet love, hear me callin’ out your name

Enajiomo hated singing!

She thought she sounded awful!

And he readily agreed with her.

But this song, their song couldn’t have been the perfect pick for her vocal range. And she knew it!

Up there and behind the microphone, she held sway, grinning at his stunned expression.

He hadn’t even realised she knew more than the chorus of the song!

I feel no shame, I’m in love

Everything else around him dulled into insignificance. He never made it back on his mobile which hung in suspended shock mid-air. Poor Steve terminated the call after one more failed try. Unknown to him, his friend was transfixed.

Naji exited the stage and made towards his astounded figure at the back.

Sweet love, don’t you ever go away

It’ll always be this way

When she began singing, less than half the patrons present paid attention; human chatter mixed in with her performance. Worse still, few recognised her song choice. Interest and curiosity set in the moment she stepped offstage and into the gathering, moving determinedly toward her target. All eyes were trained on her, and quiet descended.

There’s no stronger love in this world, oh baby, no

You’re my man, I’m your girl

About six feet away from her beau at this point, and his expression was only just beginning to thaw.

I’ll never go, wait & see, can’t be wrong

Don’t you know this is where you belong

How sweet this dream, how lovely, baby

Stay right here, never fear

I will be all that you need

Her fingers fanned his denim shirt.

And right on cue from the outset, Maro captured every video-worthy moment:

Naji behind the mic starting off the song

Cut to Tayo coming into view, the sounds drawing him like the call of a Siren

His mobile phone forgotten as the image on stage throws him for a loop

Brown eyes popping out of their sockets, only just saved by his lenses

Slack jaw following suit

Rooted to the spot, immobilised

Back to a pleased Naji at his reaction, descending from the stage with the cordless mic, attracting attention to her beau and her

Touching him as she serenades him

Both in the same frame as she sings the chorus again

Tayo has gone through a gamut of emotions — amazement, disbelief, awe — and is smiling widely now. A lot of pieces have fallen into the large puzzle.

The wig. The venue. The double date. Was Steve and his phone call in on it too?

In one swift movement, he reaches out and pulls her to him, shoves away the microphone with his other hand and lowers his head towards hers.

Shrill catcalls, whistles of approval and a smattering of applause succeeded the ensuing lip lock. When Naji’s left palm grazed her beau’s jaw line, Maro zoomed in on the rock, mounted on a silver band, gracing her ring finger. The piece of jewellery arrived yesterday afternoon to mixed reactions — Tayo’s whoop of joy; Naji’s peeve that he beat the deadline.

‘Watch and learn, ladies. Watch and learn!’ The DJ’s voice boomed from the stage. ‘Show your man you have love, sweet love for him. Congratulations to the couple; they just got engaged. We wish them many years of sweet, sweet love.’

The response from the crowd was varied, ranging from grunts of agreement, more shrieks of excitement, to screams of rejection.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Tayo whispered in Naji’s ear. ‘After that performance, you deserve a huge reward!’

Originally intended for a single individual or maybe two, the video clip lasted just over three minutes after editing. Besides Naji, Maro sent it to a few more people — Ruona, Tayo, Kemi, Eric, and his brother, Steve.

Upon waking up mid-Sunday morning, the clip had come full circle. At least half a dozen people from both estates had forwarded it to him with various questions, captions and emojis:

I go luv o

aww…so sweet!

I tap into love like dis

see love oooo!

they’re engaged?!

sweet love indeed. I wan ma own

❤️❤️❤️❤️😍😍😍😍

One person, though, received the video with some sage advice attached to it. Beneath the clip, Ivie wisely wrote: dis will b dificult to watch, girlfriend. comot eye from dis man. e don go b dat. sori.

Wordlessly and without an iota of emotion, Adaobi saw every inch of it, every sound ringing in her head, every image stamped in her mind.

At the end, she lay motionless in bed and, for a long time, stared unseeing ahead of her, her throat tightened with emotion.

December.

The hug between Tayo and Trish was fierce and long.

Naji giggled when Godfrey, Trish’s husband, feigned annoyance and pulled them apart. His wife effected introductions and motioned towards Naji sitting a few metres away from them at the back of the football field-sized hall where the reception was taking place.

Godfrey promptly abandoned Tayo and Trish to hurry over to bestow a tight hug of his own to a positively glowing Naji, whose feet stretched in front of her on another chair.

As an in-law of the family, Godfrey had been in the thick of the ceremonies since yesterday, leaving no time to meet and greet everyone he knew, his wife’s oldest friend inclusive or be acquainted with her new husband or the fact that she was heavy with child, a cute bump beginning to be visible.

Only a few minutes ago did Tayo, looking debonair in a black tuxedo, escape best man duties finally from Steve’s side.

During the church and reception festivities, he constantly searched for Naji among the throng of well-wishers who’d come out en masse to celebrate Steve and Ivie’s union as husband and wife.

Going at her own pace, pregnancy and heels proving restrictive and berating herself for her choice of footwear, she shot him several messages of her whereabouts and complimented him too: You look like the groom, Tay. Fortunately, the children were under the keen gazes of Maro, Ruona and Kemi.

He replied: Are you seeing this turnout? The whole of Benin is here!

Their wedding had starkly contrasted with what they currently experienced; it had been a private and quiet affair. To the chagrin of both mothers, especially Tayo’s. For two people giving the institution another go, their attitudes towards fanfare came as no surprise to their friends.

However, Tayo handled his mother with the care and practice he employed for his little patients. Enajiomo was expecting and in a delicate situation; she had also fainted once before. That singular information reduced Mrs. Olukoya senior to mush. Finally, finally, her first seed was producing a seed of his own, the long-awaited grandchildren were on their way. After performing a little jig of joy, every objection to the planned, small wedding vanished for an instant. Could she move in? Help take care of her latest daughter-in-law?

Thank you for the offer, but no thanks; they had it under control, her son informed her.

The total number of guests would be 30; 15 from each side. She could bring three people. The same applied to his dad.

Ha! Three, ke?!

Naji faced similar protests from her mum when she schooled her on their preferences.

The introduction and traditional events took place on the same day, one after the other. In one fell swoop, they were done with the village trip and demands from its occupants claiming customs when in fact they were hustlers.

The registry ceremony was held on a Thursday morning with Mr. Ayodele & his wife, and FE & her husband added to the couple’s guests’ list. It would go down in history as one of the rare occasions where Alhaji and Tayo occupied the same space and both had smiles on their faces. At the end, the older man congratulated his daughter-in-law’s husband with a firm handshake and an order: ‘Keep her happy, Dr. Olukwoya.’

Cupping his boss’s palm with both of his, Tayo was solemn in his reply: ‘You can count on that, sir.’

The phone call from Naji, informing Abdul’s father about the approaching nuptials, had been almost impossible to hear, and she knew it; she was aware of his feelings towards her intended.

But so far, of all his relatives working at the company, the only female and latest hire had made him proud and was yet to disappoint him.

Two weeks into his suspension, Taofick had resigned, unable to bear the shame of being caught and the penalty attached to it. Apparently, entitlement and disgrace were an unlikely combination.

Upon his return from his month-long suspension, Nasiru was demoted and shipped out to the cement factory to man its IT operations, the lowest rung of the IT ladder, usually reserved for interns or corps members. Jite got the boot outright.

‘How are my babies doing?’ Tayo appeared crouched at her side moments after some relative dragged an apologetic Godfrey away; his palm automatically found and caressed her perfectly rounded belly. It had become a reflex action of his. She reacted without thinking, placing hers over his, then turned, and his lips brushed hers swiftly.

On her way to the Ladies’ room, adorned in a lilac, figure-hugging, floor-length tube dress exposing more than a generous glimpse of healthy breasts which garnered several stares, Adaobi spied the intimate encounter between her ex and his wife.

The term alone stung — wife. Tayo was married!

Two years with him, and she’d used trickery to get him to propose. Meanwhile, in less time than that, another woman was answering his name and carrying his child.

It was difficult enough playing maid of honour to his best man’s role, side by side. What killed her slowly was his total lack of interest in keeping up appearances between them as they supported their respective friends. She’d lost the easy relations she once enjoyed with him after that bull-headed stunt she’d pulled at his office.

Having him within touching distance and yet observing him search for Mrs. Fawaz, exchange smile-inducing messages, trivial things that cut deep, was like a horde of black ants attacking her heart as an indulgent meal.

To make matters worse, everywhere she turned, happy couples, like animals in Noah’s Ark, taunted her.

Ivie and Steve led the pack, beaming like it was going out of fashion.

She’d seen Maro and a gorgeous, gorgeous girl with suspiciously familiar long hair.

Then there was Kemi. One of the groomsmen was close marking her. From the number of times he got her smiling, he seemed to be making remarkable inroads.

Any hope Adaobi had put on Dr. Ijeh’s otherwise undesirable attention evaporated when she saw his date was Dr. Familoni, looking striking in a midnight blue cocktail dress. The male doctor never called her as he’d hinted he would.

The last scene tore her apart most — Tayo.

She pushed open the door and stalked out. She wanted to be like Mrs. Fawaz when she grew up. Mrs. Olukoya, she corrected herself.

The End.