₦airaland Forum

tijehi:
Yes oh, TM is the writer to rolllllll with. The book was off the hook. So interesting.

TM, jojodia's opinion ( u get my drift).

write mooooorrrrrrrreeeee of romanceeeeeeee

Looky who's here. Didn't know you strolled this Island, girl. My peeps always having my back... Love y'all loads

READ PREQUEL:

kaine and Dominic's love story as a free-read on Life and Spices.com::: Read: THE MARRIAGE ULTIMATUM


**PURCHASE eBook NEVER LET YOU GO:: OKADABOOKS & LS EBOOKSTORE

SYNOPSIS:

When Anwuli left the son they had made together to go after Tobi Kojo-Edwards, she thought finding him will provide her answers... if nothing else.

But from a hospital ward in Johannesburg to a hotel room in Lagos and even inside a mansion in the beautiful Island of Praia, Cape Verde, her problems multiplied as she found that the man she loved and who’d promised her forever wanted nothing more to do with her.

For Tobi Kojo-Edwards, he wasn’t allowing the woman who’d not only cruelly left him but had also left their infant son, back in his life.



GLIMPSE:

She was his first visitor the next day. Tobi wasn’t entirely pleased. He didn’t want to keep seeing her not until he was well enough and capable of dealing with the baby-paternity claim at least.

“You shouldn’t abandon your work just to keep checking up on me. I’m fine and Carl will be here soon, anyway.”

“I’m not on a job, so you don’t have to worry.” She gave him a sedate smile. “How are you this morning?”

Tobi sighed and tried to stuff his impatience. She had helped bring him back sooner to civilisation, he reminded himself. “Fine. Doing better. The doctor assured me this morning that I can be discharged in two days at most.”

Her smile became instantly enthusiastic. “That is great news. I am really happy to hear that, Tobi.” She came forward and lowered to the edge of the bed. “Life’s given us another chance, Tobi, and we ought not to misuse it.”

Tobi wasn’t sure if her closeness annoyed or unnerved him, he hated either feeling though. “Life’s given me another chance and I am not only grateful for it but will make sure I use it wisely.”

“I guess you’re still having difficulty remembering fully the love we once shared.” She said softly, her smile dimming a tad bit. “But I love you, Tobi, and for the sake of that love, I left my home and my family—left our son—to come and find you. And now that I’ve found you, I’m not giving up on you or on us.”

The determination in her voice puzzled and wearied Tobi. “Anwuli, what was is no more for me. I have gone past it. I don’t feel the same way anymore. I guess we felt too much, too quickly. We barely gave ourselves time to really know each other.”

“You told me that time is nothing when the heart already knows what it wants.”

The reminder was stated in a sad voice. Tobi shrugged. “I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry but I cannot help how I feel. This son you say is mine is the only thing left between us. I’d like to meet him and I hope you understand that I may request a DNA test.”

The quick gasp indicated her shock but the resolve in her eyes retained its intensity. “Our son is right now with my sister and your brother at your home in Cape Verde.”

“What?”

“Yes. Your brother came to Nigeria after you were reported dead and he saw one of my emails to you. He found my sister, Kaine, in our family home with Tobi and he threatened to take the baby away if she doesn’t marry him. So she married him and he took them both with him to Cape Verde.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I wish I was, but I’m not. Your brother forced my sister to marry him and he took my son away.”

“My son?” Tobi arched his brows. “You sound like you cared for him. You abandoned him, remember? You left him for a vain pursuit.”

“I did not abandon him!” Anwuli sprang to her feet. “I left him with my sister and I only did so because I wanted to find you.”

“You are a mother! Your priority should have been your infant child!”

“Maybe. But I am also a woman and my heart is also a priority.”

Tobi turned away from her tear-filled eyes. He could never stand women crying and didn’t want himself capitulating because of her tears. “I can’t believe what you just told me. Yes, a Kojo-Edwards will never abandon his own, so I understand my brother coming to Nigeria to take… the baby. But to threaten an innocent young woman? He would never be capable of something that cruel.”

Yet somewhere in his mind the feeling tugged that Dominic could be ruthless if he felt his goal or his family was threatened. And he wouldn’t have tolerated any hindrance to his goal to take his son, Tobi, back home with him to Praia.

“So, the son he has is actually mine.” He mused aloud. At the quick puzzle that filtered across Anwuli’s face, he explained. “I was told my brother is now married to a Nigerian woman and that he has a son. I guess that son is actually mine.”

Anwuli inclined her head. “Yes, he is. Our son. And his wife, my little sister. But I want my son back, Tobi. Whether you think I abandoned him or not, he is still my son and I want him back with me.”

“Well, he’s now out of your reach due to your own misplaced priorities—talk about poetic justice.” His smirk didn’t linger though. “And just so you know, if he is indeed my son, then I’m not letting you keep him. Not when you’ve proven that you’re incapable of taking care of him.”

“It hurts me that you not only question my love for you and our son but also my integrity. When you see him, you will know that he’s your son, Tobi. But I can’t let you and your family keep him. If you want to keep him, you’ll have to keep me too.”

“What the heck are you talking about?”

Anwuli met his frowning stare with unflinching defiance. “It’s either, take us both—a package deal—or give me back my son.”

Tobi stared at her open-mouthed for the best part of thirty seconds. And then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

♠ ♠ ♠

IN the solitude of her room—for this was her room now—Lara stood before the square-cut dresser mirror and stared at her image. She’d just finished with her bath and her makeup-free oval face glowed with rich, chocolate-brown smoothness. She loved her complexion. Approved its even dark glow that depicted—in her opinion—her true African heritage.

This was the quintessence of her beauty—the uniformity of her skin tone, the unblemished smoothness, the pure natural glow that bespoke the time and efforts she put into nourishing it. It was what people first saw when they looked at her. It was what first meets the eye and what first becomes a pleasure; an attraction.

She was a beautiful woman, not only facially. Her trim, slim figure had the lush curves that were so highly sorted after in the celebrity-crazed world of today. It made her proud that she had not lost her figure. Pleased her that at thirty-two she still looked good. Sexy even, despite having been married six years and having had a child.

She still got it and she still turned heads. Lara smiled. Lifted her index finger and traced it over the unpainted, pinkish lower fullness of her bow-shaped lips.

It had seemed so cruel to back away when he had been so thoughtful. And for the briefest moment she’d found herself caving in, succumbing to the allure of hearing his baritone voice call her by that nickname she so loved, hearing him whisper he loved her. It had been tempting, briefly, to sink into the cocoon that love provided but she’d remembered. And her resolve had returned.

She dropped her hand, picked up the brush from the dresser and began to run it slowly through her dark brown weave. Promises of love were cheap when they cannot be honoured, she reminded herself. And he had already dishonoured his first promise.

She brushed until the tresses were straight and smooth. Then she took the silk, floral chemise draped over the stool and slipped it on. She examined the mirror and satisfied with the sultry image she made, she drew back from dresser and padded over to the bed.

Her phone beeped just as she reached for the blue-and-beige coverlet. She picked it up, tapped open the red-marked Blackberry messenger icon. The thrilling sensation, that didn’t really arise from the words she’d just read, spread through her, inciting a warmth that was erotic in its quickness.

Pushing back the coverlet, she quickly slipped into bed, adjusted to her side and with both hands working fast, she typed a reply. A giggle escaped her as she read her audacious words. Enjoying the thrill of the forbidden, she clicked the send button.

She cast a glance to the door and reached a finger to the side of the phone, pressing the volume button until it was completely down. When the reply she knew would follow came, she read it with eager, sparkling eyes, already thinking up another audacious response.


PRICE SLASH

EPUB VERSION: OKADABOOKS

PDF VERSION: LS EBOOKSTORE

MAKE YOUR PURCHASES WHILST OFFER LASTS

ifyjohnson:
So how can one get the pdf version

My most humble apologies for this late reply, Ifyjohnson. You can get the PDF version by clicking on this: LS EBOOKSTORE

chii8:
Nice write op dear,missed ur writings...

I want to know what stopped the connection between this couple...maybe it will help me personally

Well, I never stopped writing. I just moved to my own base. If you click on my signature, it will take your straight there and you can join others in reading another interesting piece.

This one though is an Ebook for sale. I am only showing glimpse chapters. A preview for readers to get a feel of what is therein. So, to find out what brought on the distance between Lara and Perez, you'll have to purchase the Ebook either via my blog for a PDF version or via Okadabooks for the Epub version.

Do hope you do

Essyprity:
Dear Pretty Spicey, I am one of those ur readers who wouldn't make comments on the wonderful stories on ur new blog 'life and spices' because I tried and tried to but couldn't even after doing all am required to do. Am glad to find u here and I want to really say u are such an inspiring writer. Carefully building up a story that would never be forgotten. I follow ur stories all the time but lack d means of reaching out. Just know am ur fan,one of ur greatest fans. And u are exceptional. Congrats on the blog too.

Thanks, Essyprity. Where you with us at Alifediary before we moved?

In actual fact though, this is just a Preview post of this story/Ebook. It is on sale on the blog and on Okadabooks. So, purchasing would be the only way to totally enjoy and be blessed by the story.

2
♠ ♠ ♠


He’d returned home early—to play hubby and daddy as Stan had so impishly put it. He hadn’t expected to find her home of course and it suited his plan.

He and Jesse spent three-quarters of an hour doing his alphabet recognition homework. Then he helped Nneoma with a Maths problem. After that, he sent them off for a short evening playtime while he prepared their dinner. Nneoma could have handled the dinner preparations but he needed to keep busy so as not to succumb to the nervousness that was brimming just underneath the surface.

Dinner done, he allowed Nneoma take care of the dishes while he bundled Jesse up for his evening bath.

“How are you, daddy?”

Something about his tone of voice made him pause his swabbing movement and stare at his naked son. His chubby, baby face looked earnest. Had he noticed something? Could a three year old sense a melancholy hidden deep within the heart?

Get a grip, he chided himself, of course he hasn’t noticed anything. He was too young to do that. Besides, he wasn’t even feeling glum right now. He probably just observed he was distracted and not chatting with him much as usual.

“I’m fine, Jess. Don’t I look fine to you?” He winked and tickled him.

Jesse giggled with delight, wriggling. “Yes, daddy. You look fine.”

Perez continued with his swabbing, relieved to see his features relaxed and happy. “And how are you too?”

Jesse gave a toothy smile. “I am fine too.”

Perez grinned at the ‘I am’ that sounded like there was a y between them. “Good. We are absolutely fine and we will always be.” The note of grave promise in his voice was lost on his son because he gurgled and proceeded to play with his bath water.

Perez looked down at the happy, innocent face and knew that he would do anything to keep that innocence and happiness there. He would do anything to provide a safe, blissful haven for him. Anything.

With bath-time over, he tucked him into bed and read his favourite bedtime story to him. It was a practice Lara had started and which had become a lovely ritual. He returned to the living room to bid a movie-watching Nneoma an early goodnight. It was just eight pm and time for the hubby part of the night’s events.

Keeping his mind blank and free of futile worrying, he started setting the scene for the dinner-for-two he had planned. He moved aside the centre table and moved over the round kitchen table. He covered it with a white tablecloth, brightened it with plastic flowers he’d bought and accessorised with her ivory candle sticks.

Then he started to set out the Chinese he’d picked up on his way home. Chinese cuisine was a big favourite for her. She could never resist it. He was hoping it will work its magic this night. Whatever was going on between then, however and whenever it started, it was time they began to work on making it right. It was time to begin mending this bridge that was becoming wider every waking moment.

Finished, he slid into one of the velvet cushioned dining chairs he’d brought over. As he surveyed the romantic scene, it struck him that she’d done something similar two years ago for his birthday and their fourth anniversary.

He’d come home really late that night and had found her sitting on one of the stools she’d placed around the centre table, wearing a red halter-neck mini dress she’d bought just for the occasion and looking all sexy and yet, solemn.

He’d apologised immediately, totally remorseful. She had nodded, said fine, then got up and walked inside, leaving him alone with the scrumptious dinner she’d prepared. He had sat down and eaten, not just his own portion but a good chunk of hers too. He’d eaten, not only because he’d been downright famished, but more so, because he’d hoped it would placate her when she saw the next day how much he’d appreciated her efforts.

And it did. In the morning, when he’d apologised again, she had laughingly forgiven him.

The next anniversary, which was last year’s, he’d remembered early enough to take her out to dinner at the Southern Sun. Though, she’d just started working, she’d made the time to come home early for their dinner date. They both had.

Now he had the same set up and was the one waiting for her return. And he wasn’t even sure what her reaction would be. She’d sounded reluctant in the morning. And since she’d moved out of their bedroom, they hadn’t really shared any intimate dinners or any other kind of intimate time together.

She needed space to figure some things out. That had been her reason for moving to the guest room, initially. Soon she didn’t bother with excuses, just distanced herself from him and took up an uncommunicative attitude that not only confounded him but troubled him even more. She seemed to have erected a wall around herself he just couldn’t penetrate. But like he’d told Stan, he meant to try. He had to.

A loud honk and the screeching sound of the gate announced her return. Unconsciously, his eyes went to the wall clock—eight twenty-five.
His heartbeat picked up, thumping not beating. He felt like an accused in the dock awaiting the verdict of the judge. The comparison seemed so ridiculous, he found himself smiling despite his nervousness.

When the key twitched in the lock, he quickly lit the candles, rose to his feet, kept the smile firmly in place and his damp palms clasped behind him.

Her surprise was apparent. She came through the foyer, halted and stared at the setup with wide incredulous eyes.

The shock gave him courage. It was better than the indifference he’d feared. “Welcome back, Lace.” He used his pet name for her. “Hope the traffic wasn’t too hectic?”

“Ah, no it wasn’t.” She shifted puzzled eyes to him. “Where are Nneoma and Jesse?”

“In bed where they belong.”

“Oh, okay.” Another glance at the table, then at him. “What’s this?”

He flashed a charming smile. “Our dinner date brought home.”

She gaped.

“Why don’t you go freshen up while I pop the champagne?” He suggested.

She hesitated. Seemed to war with herself, then lifted her shoulders. “Okay, just give me five minutes.”

She came back in twelve. But who was counting? So long as she’d accepted to dine with him, he almost felt triumphant. She’d changed into a pair of jeans cut-offs and a tank top and her hair was now pinned up in a ponytail. It wasn’t a sexy, dinner-date look but she still looked lovely. And he didn’t really care if she’d returned in a ball gown or naked—well, naked would have been nice.

No raunchy thoughts, he chided himself, as he held her chair for her to sit. She gave him a vague smile as she slid into it. He handed her a champagne flute.

“To six years of being with the love of my life, the mother of my son and my partner forever.” He toasted.

“Cheers.” She said simply, clicked her glass to his and took a sip. “Hmm, this is nice.” She set down her flute and reached for a chicken spring roll.

“The choice of appetizer was no-brainer. Spring rolls are your favourite, so it was an easy choice.” He picked her plate and started to dish the shrimp fried rice and shredded chicken.

“Hmm, not too much for me.” She touched his hand to stop him.

Perez froze, briefly. She hasn’t willingly touched him since Valentine’s Day. That was the last time they’d had sex. The absence of that part of their relationship had hurt more because she was the touchy-feely kind of person, a trait he dearly loved. But since having to force any physical contact between them hurt him as much as it seemed to irritate her, he’d learned to restrain himself.

“Oh sorry, I got carried away.” He gave an apologetic smile, set down her plate.

She only nodded and dug into her food.

He filled his own plate and started to eat too, searching his head for a safe topic. “So, how was your day?” He went for the mundane.

“Quite hectic, actually.” Her eyes stayed glued to her food. “We had a new contract—from MTN actually—a huge one.” The side of her mouth lifted. “Mr Akin-Thomas was so excited, he personally gave every staff of the Creative department a twenty thousand naira bonus.” She chuckled as she lifted a forkful of rice and shrimp to her mouth.

He found himself grinning at the low, soft sound. He’d missed her easy, fluid way of telling a story, of recounting the events of her day. He’d missed how they’d just sit and share such mundane, everyday stuff.

“We hit a big contract too.” He confided. “Remember the Starlight Hotel Construction deal that has been hanging?” She nodded. “Well, they finally made up their minds to begin building and we got the contract.”

“Wow! That is big.” Her face brightened with a genuine smile. “Congratulations. Stan must have been over the moon.”

He chuckled, pleased. “He was. Was so exhilarated by the news, he was waiting for me in my office when I got in this morning.”

“Really? Stan was at the office before you?”

He laughed at her astonished tone. “That was how excited he was about the contract falling through. It’s been fifteen long months.” He looked into her eyes. “So, this is really a triple celebration… well, quadruple, with your own huge contract.” He grinned, lifted his glass. “To us celebrating even greater things the rest of the year.”

Her smile sort of dimmed but she lifted her flute and clicked it to his before taking a sip.

And because her polite, aloof mask was back on, he bent over his own food and tried not to think too much of the twinge he felt in his heart.

“Thank you for doing this.” She spoke, breaking the silence.

He raised his head. “My pleasure.” He smiled.

“It’s been a long time I had Chinese.” She went on, forking through her food. “I think the last time must have been right after New Year’s Day when Vera, her cousin, Kate and I had belatedly celebrated her birthday at the China Town restaurant. I didn’t know I had missed it so until now. And this tasty array is a nice way to break the spell.” She offered a bright smile.

“I aim to please.” He said softly, smiling into her eyes.

She dropped her gaze. Focused on what was left on her plate.

“Want some more? There’s still plenty left. How about some more shredded chicken?” He lifted the foil covered dish.

She shook her head. “I think I’m full. I might even have overeaten.” She laid down her fork, lifted her flute and drained it. Then she pushed back her chair. “I should turn in, I’m really beat.” She caught a yawn with the back of her hand. “Sorry, I’m bushed.”

He knew the yawn was feigned. She wanted to escape, to retreat behind her wall. He stood up himself. “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning then.”

When she started to lift her plate and glass, he placed a hand over hers. “Don’t bother with those. I’ll take care of them.”
“Are you sure?” She slipped her hand from under his.

“Positive.” He took her hand again, held on despite her stiffening. “Happy anniversary, Lace.” He said softly. “You are and will always be the most beautiful thing that happened to me. I love you.”
She stared at him, unblinking, eyes wary.

He leaned forward hesitantly. When she didn’t protest or back away, he curved his head and gently laid his lips over hers. She didn’t respond to the kiss. Didn’t open her mouth or make a sound. He wanted to prod the soft mounds open. He wanted to delve into the warm enclosure of her mouth and just feel.

But she stepped back. “Thank you for the surprise dinner.” She said with a polite smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He murmured, watching as she retreated with hurried steps.

He exhaled and resumed his seat.

No, it shouldn’t hurt that they both didn’t empty everything in the dishes together. That he didn’t have to stay with her in the kitchen while she washed up and then race her to their bedroom where they’d spend the night in love.
It wouldn’t hurt if he didn’t keep thinking of how it used to be.

And because he didn’t want to do just that, he piled up whatever was left into one dish and carrying it over to the sofa, picked the remote control and turned on the television.

Choosing a movie channel, he refused to dwell on the ache within his heart. Or the fear that lodged close to it.



**EBOOK AVAILABLE ON OKADABOOKS & LS EBOOKSTORE

♠ ♠ ♠


“Good morning, Mr Osasogie.” The receptionist greeted as he marched into the pleasantly furnished lobby.

“Morning, Sarah.” He returned her smile, sweeping past to take the stairs.

He answered more greetings, flashed smiles and gave quick nods as he walked down the hallway that led to the executive offices of Metos Constructions Limited. As always, his Personal Assistant was already at her desk. In the four years she’d worked for him, she’d never been late, not even once. He appreciated that about her.

“Good morning, sir.” Mary greeted with a welcome smile.

“Morning, Mary.” He stopped at her desk. “What’s our schedule like today?”

“Not so busy.” Mary replied, passing him a Filofax. “You have a ten o’clock meeting with Mr Daramola over the cost estimate for the new Penguin contract. A site inspection with him afterwards, together with Mr Metchie and then another meeting by one pm with the Movak Project team.”

He inclined his head. “That all?”

“For now.” Mary smiled. “Oh, and Mr Metchie is waiting for you inside.”

“He is?” He was surprised. Stan was not known for his punctuality. “All right. Thanks, Mary.” He crossed the small office and opened his own door.

Stanley Metchie, his partner and best friend, was sitting cross-legged on a leather sofa, flickering through a newspaper.

“Perry, here at last.” Stan dumped the paper on a small stool and heaved up. “You took your precious time coming in this morning, didn’t you?” He slapped a hand across his back and then tugged the lapel of his suit. “It’s Friday, you know that?”

“We have a meeting with Movak today, remember?” Perez flexed his back muscle. Stan’s back slaps were often too hearty. “Meanwhile, how come you are here this early?”

Stan brayed out a laugh. “Now, you sound like I’m never at the office on time.”

“You never are.” He returned dryly, pushed back his leather swivel chair and sank into it.

He watched as Stan dragged his sturdy T-shirt and jeans clad frame to the chair opposite and slouched into it. He was practically beaming.
“What’s got you all toothy-smiling?” He asked, half amused. “You finally won that jackpot you’ve been gunning for since forever?”

“Starlight friggin Hotel’s twelve storey construction deal, man, that is the jackpot!” Stan let out a whoop, bounced to his feet and did a dramatic jump. “We got the deal, Perry. We freaking got the deal.”

Perez was momentarily stunned. They’ve been pursuing the Hotel construction contract for more than fifteen months now— “We got the deal? They finally decided to award the contract?”

“They have awarded the contract—to us.” Stan grinned as he sank back into his chair. “Not on paper yet, but it’s a done deal. Roscoe, the Project Manager I’ve been soft-soaping?”

Perez gave a quick nod.

“Well, he called me up yesterday, right after you went home to play hubby and daddy.” Stan flashed a wink. “The Hotel’s Management finally came to an agreement that morning and he wanted me to know they were going with Metos since our design and budget estimation worked best for them.” He laughed. “We ended up, Roscoe and I, having drinks at The Place and letting ours hairs down… metaphorically speaking.”

“Has to be, you’ve got no hair.” Perez murmured, still astounded by the news though. It would be their biggest contract so far this year. “Wow! This is so amazing. At least it will be once we put pen to paper and…”

“Pen and paper are coming together on Monday.” Stan interjected cheerfully. “We’ve got a ten am meeting at their VI Admin office.”

“Great.” Perez enthused. “Absolutely great. This is great news.”

“Looks like you are trying too hard to sound enthusiastic.” Stan’s eyes have turned contemplative as they studied him.

He was right. Perez was elated by the news but he just wasn’t feeling it yet. No doubt because of the cobwebs of worries drooping over him.
“I am happy. You know I am. We’ve been waiting so long for this to happen.” He gestured with a hand. “I was already giving up on them but you didn’t and now we are here— the ones with the contract. Of course I’m happy, and proud. ” He flashed a smile.

Stan only pursed his lips. “I’m hearing the words, but I’m just not getting the feeling.” He leaned forward. “What gives?”

“Nothing.” Perez replied quickly. “I guess it just hasn’t all sunk in yet.”

Stan’s eagle eyes assessed his face. “Something’s wrong.” He insisted. “You’ve got worry on your face. I can see it. Come on, no more prevarications, what’s wrong?”

Perez stared at his best friend of seventeen years and sighed. He wanted to keep denying it. He’d been avoiding having to talk about this. Had struggled not to allow it take its toll on him or on his work. He’d held it all in, locked away from prying eyes. But obviously today’s negligence had dredged it all up to the surface.

“It’s our anniversary today and she didn’t even remember.” He admitted finally.

Stan arched his brows.

Perez hissed. “Our wedding anniversary.”

“Oh. Yes, so it is. I didn’t remember that one.” He shrugged and sat back. “I guess I don’t think of such things anymore—I mean marriage and all that till-death-do-us-part shit.” He grimaced. “I just don’t get why people are forever clamouring after that torturous institution. And who even invented it in the first place?”

“God.” Perez answered his rhetoric question in a dry tone.

“Huh?”

He chuckled at the confused expression. “Marriage—God invented it. He created Adam and Eve and bid them to share their lives together, procreate and fill the earth.”

“Uh-uh, I disagree.” Stan shook his head.

“You don’t agree that God created marriage?”

Stan nodded. “No, he didn’t. He created Adam and Eve all right but he didn’t create marriage. What he did was to leave them butt-naked in the Garden of Eden with instructions to multiply and replenish the earth and keep off the forbidden fruit. Nothing was said about marriage and there was no record of any such ceremony.”

Perez shook his head. “You are unbelievable, you know that? Anyway, I hate to argue pointlessly…”

“Then let’s don’t.” Stan broke in. “Forget the murky waters of who invented marriage and let’s talk about why your marriage is making you miserable and you’re refusing to let it go.”

Perez grimaced. This new cynical attitude towards marriage was why he hadn’t wanted to share these issues with him. “I can’t just let it go, Stan.”

“And why the heck not?”

“Because it is marriage and not some shopping trip to buy a pair of shoes you can return if it doesn’t fit.” He retorted impatiently.

“Perry, it is a shopping trip.” Stan clucked his tongue at his glare. “Didn’t you have to pay her parents and people some money and other non-monetary items before you were allowed to take her home as your wife?” His brows arched meaningfully. “And as you just admitted, she doesn’t fit, so why keep wearing her—or more aptly—why let her wear you out?”

“I never said anything about her not fitting.” Perez refuted sharply. “Besides, divorce isn’t the only answer to problems in marriage.”

“Yeah, death is another solution but it’s called murder if you have to kill your spouse to get it. And I’m not sure we can do it without getting caught.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Listen P, divorce was good enough for me. Restored my sanity and saved me sexless nights and ceaseless nagging.”

He got up and came around the desk. “Perry, when a woman starts forgetting dates and anniversaries that tells you something. They are dates-and-anniversary passionate creatures. It’s how they’re wired.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He didn’t need cynicism and he didn’t need pragmatism either. “They’ve been busy at the office lately. She probably has too much on her mind.” Stan snorted and his irritation spiked. “In any case, marriage isn’t about giving up and walking away when things get tough. It’s about staying and making it work.”

Instantly realising how critical and self-righteous he’d sounded, he apologised. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I just meant that I want—I need to work things out with Lara.”

“I get it. No offence taken.” Stan gave him a back-pat. “Besides, I know how you hate to fail at something. So you will struggle with this until you can make it work.” He smiled faintly. “Thing is, sometimes we just can’t make things work, no matter how hard we try.”

Perez heard the silent regret in his voice. He knew Stan wasn’t entirely nonchalant about his divorce as he liked to act. And he didn’t want to be where he was. “Maybe. But we can try. And I mean to try, Stan.”

“I know. And I hope it gets better.” Stan got up and started towards the door. He stopped midway and turned. “Hey, happy birthday and many more happy returns.” He reached into his pocket and slipped something out. “Catch.” He tossed it in his direction.

Reflexively, Perez reached out his hand and caught the rectangular-shaped gift-wrapped box. “Thanks.” He said, surprised and touched.

Stanley offered a salute. “No sweat. And remember, we are celebrating tomorrow— the Starlight deal and your birthday.” He shot a quick grin and marched out of the room.

Perez stared down at the blue-and-white wrapped box. He’d remembered. His best friend hadn’t forgotten and had gotten him a gift, as always. But his wife, the love of his life, hadn’t.

He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the twisting pain, willing it away. He wouldn’t think about the pain and anxiety, not today. Today, he would focus on the good.

He exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. Carefully, he unwrapped the box. It was a pair of cufflinks with the letter P engraved on them.
His mouth curved and his heart felt suddenly lighter.



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