enirock:


I be think say na only me ooo. I don think Eaton Nathan go Don go through and different outcome.

Culin just put is all for high jump.

enirock:
Culin so after the birthday and semo, u forgot all of us here See the way I am always refreshing to see if there's a new update. � � �


Please come and quench our thirst.

Culin:
This one is for you Enirock, for being as solid as a rock! Thanks for all your encouragement.

Chapter Twenty-six—Curiousity Killed The Cat

It would be better for us to have some doubts in an honest pursuit of truth, than it would be for us to be certain about something that was not true.
Daniel Wallace

Song- Trampoline by Shaed and Zayn (I hope I've never used this one before)

NATHAN

With all the Wedding shenanigans, the days sped by so fast and I was counting less than twelve hours to my wedding. Friends and relatives from within and outside the country arrived non-stop and the Adakole's Mansion lost its usual quiet ambience.

Ivan had returned home after my mother's plea. She, Monic and my aunts had turned Ivan's room to a fashion house, with similar exquisite outfits and designer accessories littered everywhere. My incertitude towards the wedding was family knowledge but it wasn't going to stop them from showing up with a bang, especially with BellaNaija featuring the wedding on their website.

Loud chatters in Idoma by people who'd travelled from our village and children running about was the height of all the noise I could take. I exchanged quick greetings with the elderly women who were drinking beer in the lounge and headed for my car. I'd made sure to avoid my father all week, but he still got the last laugh as all traditional rites were performed in my absence.

I didn't know what the invitation card looked like and yet, I was shuffling between the family house and hotels, greeting family and friends who arrived by the hour.

Removing myself from the wedding chaos inside the house, I sat in my car, outside the gate staring at the email Mr. Yusuf sent.

He'd accessed my father's bank statement. There were unexplainable, random deposits to a certain account, from one year ago and as far back as many years. But what I couldn't wrap my head around was why Ms. Maria Ahmed, his secretary for fifteen years and mine for four the recipient of all those payments.

Was he helping her out with a medical bill? But he'd scolded her like every other staff on the last floor. He'd barely spared her glances and she feared him, even more than the rest of the staff did.

Surely there was another explanation to this.

But my heart knew. The only explanation for the Millions of Naira sent to her was if she was the other woman.

'The affair happened years ago and Williams assured me it stopped.'

My mother's words were floating carelessly around my brain, I punched the steering wheel and cursed.

Many years ago.

Was it before she started working for the family or after? Was it during the times she'd travelled across continents to visit me in school when my mother couldn't make it?

Was that why she remained unmarried even at fifty-two?

'Marriage isn't for me. Besides, I look thirty-five and can easily convince any of those young Lagos boys to marry me.' She'd joked, one time when she forced me to have her home-made lunch and I teased her about getting a her own man to pester.

And her child? How old was he or she now? She never mentioned having any child before.

Backstabber.

I slammed my hands against the wheels again. My head fell back on the headrest and it remained like that for almost half an hour.

I turned on the ignition with only one destination in mind. Ms. Maria's apartment. She owned a semidetached duplex in one of the neighbourhood on the Island, a few Kilometres from Avalon. I'd dropped her once when she was too sick to drive home and stopped by another time when her house was burgled.

I was going to give her the chance to explain why my father, her employer was sending her even more money than his company was paying her.

I stepped harder on the gas, hoping to beat the oncoming evening traffic.

I endured two hours stuck in the traffic and rain before finally pulling up in front of the sky-blue painted house. I alighted and before I could shut the door, my phone rang. I intended to let it ring but I saw my best friend's name displayed on the screen.

"Where the hell are you?" Patrick yelled over the phone while an afro-beat music boomed in the background. "How can you be running late for your own bachelor party?"

"Patrick, Man! I thought I asked you not to bother with that."

"Bro! You got to be kidding yourself. There's no way we're giving out the most eligible bachelor in Africa without shutting down Lagos!" I heard cheers of agreement from familiar voices in the background and I wondered how long they'd been drinking.

"Just get an Uber and go home, man. I'll see you in the morning."

Ignoring his drunk protests, I removed the phone from my ear and matched to the house. The large wooden door opened before my knuckles landed on it. A smiling Ms. Maria dressed in a yellow woollen sweater and white jean trousers stepped from behind the door.

"Oh, hey you. I thought I saw your car parked outside," her formal attitude was gone and replaced with a care-free smile. "You're not trying to run away from home, right?" She smiled.

I chuckled, biting back a smile.

With the oversized office suit and large circular medicated glasses gone, her face and body appeared slimmer. Her natural curly hair was tied in a high bun and her skin glowed even with little light. She was beautiful and could pass for a decade younger. Little wonder my father wanted her.

"It's too late to run away now, isn't it?" I shrugged.

She gave an understanding smile. "Why don't you come in?" She opened the door wider and stood aside. "I don't think the rain is about to stop drizzling anytime soon."

I nodded and walked into the average-size living area. Warmth and a mixture of ginger and fruity scent welcomed me. The only light in the room came from the medium sized TV screen and a variety of scented candles lined on the coffee table and side tables.

"One second," she said, before shuffling to the wall and toggling on the switch, lights from a number of bulbs in the POP ceiling came on in the process.

"Water? A drink? Or food?" she asked, pointing towards where I assumed to be the kitchen. I'd not even sat and she was already planning to fill up my stomach. Was this how she ensnared my father?

"For how long have you been sleeping with my father?" I asked, still standing with my hands in the back pocket of my trousers.

Her lips parted slightly but nothing came out. She shook her head then gave an unapologetic smile.

"Nineteen? Ten, maybe?" I asked, attempting to shame her and wipe off the smirk on her face.

"Try thirty-three," she replied with zero guilt in her voice.

Thirty-three.

My parents had been married only thirty-two years and met a month to the wedding. She was the victim of their marriage, and not the enemy like I thought.

Instantly, I felt  pity for her. Was that why she had sympathy for Enitan—because she'd been in the same position once?

My father claimed love wasn't for men like us, but he kept the love of his youth hidden for three decades. Was this I and Enitan's fate?

"I'm sorry. I should never have come," I said, turning back to the door. I'd come with the hopes of finding something to threaten my father with, only to realize that he too was just a man like me, once in love, but made the necessary sacrifice for family.

"Nathaniel."

I stiffened at her tone.

"Now that you know, let me explain myself. I can't have you hating me for ever."

"I don't hate you," I replied, grabbing the door handle and pulling the door open.

She blew out a shaky breath. "Just like that? I know you enough to know you can be unforgiving. So telling me you're ok with your family being blackmailed because of my affair with your father doesn't make sense."

What?

I turned back and watched her intensely. "What was that?"

It was then she knew she'd made a mistake and slipped. "Lord, what have I done," she muttered into her hands.

"Wow! What else is going on that I don't know about!"

She took her seat while I stood frozen, waiting for her to speak up.

"You should be having this conversation with your father."

"But he's not here now, is he?" I asked impatiently.

She remained silent for a while then heaved a deep breath. "Your father and I had been dating when he got married. I broke things off with him but a few years later he said he wanted a divorce and I believed him," she spoke slowly like she was counting each word. "I was stupid in love. So I started seeing him again and I got pregnant, but he never went through with the divorce."

"But you kept seeing him."

She looked down as her hands played with the hem of her sweater. "I should have stopped. But I loved him, and wanted to be around my kid. If only I'd made the right decision to leave earlier, Martins would never have gotten that lucky break and your father would have since wriggled his way out of this corruption case."

So the corruption charges...that was only a cover-up? The affair was being used to blackmail him to not fight the charges. I held my throbbing head.

Mr. Martins, the snake.

Ivan was right all along; her speculations and theories. And I was just too desperate to chair Avalon that I didn't see something was off.

How was it that of all the forces in the universe that could combine, it was that of a woman prepared to destroy me and the other offering the opportunity. They'd succeeded in ruining my life.

"Why not risk it? How do you know Mr. Martin is not bluffing. It's not like he'd openly admit to blackmailing with an affair. So father should pull his weight on the charges and find a way to reduce the blowback should words of the affair gets out."

"No. We're not going to risk hurting our son!"

Wow!

"So my life is a mess because of your mistakes and all you care about is your son!"

"Yes! The world can never know that he was the product of an affair!"

"Just great. How lucky he is to have you both, ruining other lives just to protect his. But I don't share in this keenness for your secret love child. So when I walk out of here, I'm going to call off this sham of a wedding and let you handle the consequences of your actions!"

"No, please!" She jumped from her seat and clung to me. "You can't do that."

"Like hell I can," I ripped my arm off her grip and headed for the door.

"We're doing this for you!"

"For me?" I turned around in surprise. "How dare you?" I yelled with a shaky voice. "All these past months have brought me nothing but pain and anguish. I've had to endure hurting the woman I loved most in the world. And you dare say this it's for me?"

"It is! Because we're trying to protect you! My son!" She shook my arms violently but I couldn't feel them.

It was like the air had been knocked right out my lungs.

"No." I laughed and dismissed her with a wave. "I'm out of here."

"Yes. You're my son. But in the eyes of the world that adore you and siblings who accept and love you, you're a legitimate child and that cannot change. Do you understand me?"

I must have damaged my eardrums somehow because I could only hear clangs in my brain. The ground around me was starting to spin and I leaned on the door for support.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this." She held on tight to me. "I'm so sorry."



Phew. When this story came to my head for the first time, this was the first scene I imagined (very funny) and I'm glad to have finally written it. Don't forget to like this chapter guys, and tell me how you feel about this chapter in the comments. Kindly pardon any error you come across o. I don tire.

Culin:


That was a voluntary answer!!! you didn't trick me.

Culin:


Whoa! whoa! whoa! Calm down dear. I may be a 'saddist writer' but not to the point of killing innocent baby characters. Plus I if they survived the accident, it's their destiny to survive. So be rest assured those kids won't die. They are the ones who will offer Enitan comfort and hope when this is all done.