***

He turned off the car ignition and welcomed the silence. “Babe, no doubt about it, your car has seen better days. You should consider selling it and getting another one." Like a child, Nene groaned, folded her arms and stomped her foot on the ground. "Hubby, why is this happening to me? We just started the new year for crying out loud. Do you know how stressful it will be for me to get public transport to work early in the morning?”
Oba stepped out of the car and wiped the sweat from his brow. He was in no mood for any more complaints. It was a hot Saturday afternoon and he wanted something cold to drink, and maybe some food as well.
Like that shawarma I had at Eliana's house. "See, you're getting yourself worked up for nothing. We’ll have to change the engine if worst comes to worst. In the meantime, take my car to work and I will sort myself out.” He sighed. “ Right now, I'm hungry. Abeg, let's get some food."
She strolled up to him and threw her hands around his neck, planting little kisses all over his face even with the sweat trickling down his face. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You're the best soon-to-be-husband in the world! Biko, what do you want to eat? I haven't gone to the market for you though."
Say what?! “It’s fine. Let's just go somewhere nice and get something to eat then you can go to the market." They did just that. After he was fully satisfied, he took her to the market, waited till she was done shopping then dropped her at home. He promised to drop the car Sunday evening. On his way home, Oba recalled his last conversation with Timilehin.
"Yes! I forgot to tell you, I met Eliana's parents and her brother. They were nice."
"Met them where?"
"Their house. I bumped into her at the supermarket and took her home. She invited me in and that's how I met her family. She's a nice girl, Timilehin."
"I don't like how you went to her house. Couldn't you say no?"
Oba laughed. Was his cousin really jealous? "You know I'm engaged right? So you don't have anything to worry about."
"I better not."
He laughed. Timilehin really liked her; it was obvious. He just needed to make the next move. He didn’t understand why his cousin felt the need to pray about it when he already liked her. It all seemed so unnecessary to him, but he thought to leave it at that.
Later in the evening, Oba was watching TV when his mother called. He hadn't spoken to her since December. She had refused to pick his calls. He eagerly answered, longing to hear her voice.
"Good evening Ma… Yes, I'm fine and you? And Dad?”
"Fine, fine. How's Nene?" she asked.
Oba was surprised his mother was asking after her. "She's fine. She’s excited about the wedding." She really was. Conversations on the wedding dress and bridal party gowns had started with the designer, down to the details. She wanted to sort out other things, but he kept stalling, hoping he’d someday get the go-ahead from his mother.
"Okay." He heard her sigh. "I want you to know you have my blessings to marry her."
He stood. "Really? What made you change your mind?"
"Your father spoke to me. Oba, you know I love you and only want what's best for you. If Nene -” he could sense his mother's hesitation, “If Nene is God's will for you, then who am I to oppose?"
He rubbed his head with a bare palm. Still in awe at what was happening. "Wow. Thank you Ma. I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome. Love is sweet, especially when you're with who God wants you to be with. It may not be smooth all the way but you will be confident you have God's approval. I hope you have that, Oba." There was a brief pause, as though to allow her words sink in. Then she said, "We would talk later. Enjoy the rest of your day."
"And you too, Ma."
The line went dead, leaving Oba dazed. Whatever his father had said to her, Oba had to thank him. He sat back down. His father was one of the few men of honour he knew. He was a man of integrity and his mother greatly respected him. Oba had seen that much growing up, seeing how they related with one another.
Would Nene respect me too in old age?
He didn't have an answer and it bothered him. And the concept of knowing God’s will concerning marriage was still far-fetched. He believed it was a matter of personal choice. There couldn't be just one person God intended an individual to be with when there were billions of people in the world. And what if a person's spouse died? Did that mean they had no hope of ever remarrying?
What had Timilehin mentioned the other day?
"Guy, are you high? Since when do people marry wife because she's an okay person."
Oba knew there were a lot of things he did that were wrong but that didn't make him less of a good person. He paid his tithes, sometimes. He read his Bible every once in a while, as much as he could, but did that qualify him as a bad person? Why would it? Did it make him a candidate for hell?

izaray:
Lol, you know that feelings when you're inlove with the right person, ur belle go just dey sweet u anyhow

Yes o

CHAPTER SEVEN


Halimat dreaded the thought of her parents’ New Year’s party. Her whole family would be there, and while the urge to see her baby niece was tempting, she wasn't going to give in. She wasn't in the mood to indulge her family's piteous looks and their need to offer unsolicited advice.
At the spark of fireworks, she rolled her eyes; her heart calming to a normal pace. Knock-outs and loud music. That was pretty much what she had to put up with most of the day. As usual, everyone was hyped about the start of a new year, but for her, there was nothing exciting about it. There was no change in her life. Nothing to celebrate about. So what was all the fuss for?
It was thick in the air - the hope for a fresh start, a new beginning. For some, they wanted marriage, and others, childbirth or promotions. Some believed their lives could change, the past easily forgotten. There was always the excitement of setting New Year resolutions and writing down goals to achieve, right until the next few weeks came rolling in, the plans forgotten or deemed impossible to do. Halimat snorted. It was all useless. The only change possible was ordained by God. At least, that was what she chose to believe. And God wasn't interested in her, so what was the point of hoping.
She set aside her laptop and tip-toed her way to the bathroom. The tiles’ coolness crept through her feet. She settled into a warm bath quickly to unwind. On most days, she loved her company but right now, staying home alone on the first day of the New Year made her feel lonely. Her other option was to drive down to a nearby pizza joint and get food. There, she would watch people from a corner and make up stories of their lives. It was one of her many pastimes.
If one looked closely, you could tell if a person was happy or not. And in entirety, Halimat could say thirty percent of the people she came across were on the verge of depression. Unfortunately, she was in that category as well. Out of her bath, she fought back this truth as she got dressed and hurried out of her flat.
Are you happy?
Dr Alakija's question definitely triggered something in her. Why he thought to ask was also a mystery. She lived a fun, exciting life to the outside. Her looks, on point to match. But deep down in her was utter confusion. And she thought she had done a good job of covering it up.
The pizza place still had a couple of customers but Halimat didn't have to queue long to get her order. As she sat close to the window, she glanced at the few people there. On her left, a group of friends were hanging out and laughing at a seemingly funny joke. A guy and girl were holding hands in a corner, whispering to each other. The girl could barely contain herself, red-faced and flustered. Also, three noisy ladies were yapping off. There was so much tension in their space, and focus. Hmm, Naija women. Most likely talking about men.
Halimat laughed. She pulled out her phone to attend to Instagram posts in need of likes. All to while away time she wished she didn't have.
“Happy New Year to me,” she murmured to herself.

izaray:
Cha!! Love is so sweet, this particular update just dey burst my brain anyhow

OP more ink to ur pen jare

Thank you ma

queenitee:
Well, I'm confused with all these people

Haha.. why confused?

[/b]Happy New Month![/b]

***

At past two in the morning, Peju snuggled close to Abdul, loving the feel of his naked skin against hers, and the smell of his cologne. She ran her palm across his hairless chest as he snored lightly.
She tried to console her guilty conscience, saying that this was what she wanted. The moment they had shared was better than she had ever dreamed, much better than they’d ever had too.
It was obvious he was more experienced. He understood her curves, and knew what buttons to touch at each point in time. The truth of him learning with other women came knocking, but she refused to let it ruin her day. The fact was she loved him, they were together, and that was all that mattered.
"Merry Christmas," she whispered once again, although Christmas was two hours gone. She kissed him on the lips, just like she did before their dinner party started. It had gone well and when it ended, they cuddled on the couch, talking. One thing led to another, and before she knew it, they were on their way to his bedroom.
"This is the best gift you could have given me. This and the gift hamper filled with my favourite things,” he said, chuckling. “Thank you, Habeebah." He turned to his side to look into her eyes. "I love you."
"I love you too.” So much that it hurts. “I'm sorry if I made it seem like I was ashamed of our relationship or the love we share. I'm not. In fact --" She gathered the sheets around her and stood on the bed, "I want to shout it out loud. I love you, Abdul Layeni!" He laughed, pulling her down into his arms.
"I don't doubt that you love me. The way you showed it tonight is proof enough.”
Peju covered her face from embarrassment. "Please, don't say that."
He removed her hand gently. "What's that phrase again? Naked but not ashamed?"
She nodded.
"There shouldn't be any secrets between us. We are not just lovers but friends. We can share anything with each other. We can cry together. We can laugh together. But no lies. No secrets. No embarrassment. Deal?"
"Deal."
He shifted away from her. "Now to your Christmas present. I wanted to wait till next year, but then I think this is the perfect time."
Is he going to propose? Peju was ready to say yes. She suppressed her excitement and doubts as he opened a drawer by his bed and pulled out a small box. Yes! Her mother would be so happy. It was until he turned that she felt her bubble burst. It looked nothing like a ring box.
"Here's your present."
She took the rectangular box from him, raising a brow in curiosity and opened it. It was a car key. She looked up to find his eyes on her. He looked concerned and doubtful. Hence, she chose her words carefully.
"You bought me a car?" she said, careful to suppress the disappointment in her voice.
"Yes. Don't reject it. It’s a Christmas gift. I can't stand the thought of you jumping buses. I want to take care of you, Peju. Let me."
Even though she told him not to, he had gone ahead to buy her a car. Peju had to mentally assure herself that he was trying to be sweet. He hadn't done it to show off his money or to make her feel incapable. He did it because he loved her. "Thank you, Abdul. I appreciate you for taking care of me. I have to confess something though. I don't know how to drive."
Abdul laughed as he drew her close to him. "That's not a problem. I will help you all the way. That's why I'm here."

Shola2019:
ghost mode deactivated thanks for the update MTN is here,that means there is service oh

Lol... nice

***

Things turned out differently after the drop-off. She invited him in to eat or drink something. That led to him playing a video game with her brother, and discussing politics with her father. An hour quickly passed by before he set out.
"Hope you aren’t late for your party," she said as she escorted him to his car. They both walked slowly, with awkward hands in pockets. “I didn’t think it would be that long.”
He glanced at his watch. "It’s fine. The party is later in the evening but I have to get the drinks iced. I really had fun. Your mum's home-made shawarma was really good and it was nice meeting your family." He laughed softly and shook his head. "Your brother is a clown."
Eliana rolled her eyes. "You're telling me. He is the Chief Entertainer at home."
"He’s fourteen right? Don’t worry, he will outgrow that in due time."
She waved her hand. "Oh, I'm not worried." They were now at his car. "Thanks for dropping us and coming in. And Merry Christmas once again.”
"You too dear." He got into his car, made a U-turn and drove off.
As expected, her mother was interested in who he was and how they met. The excitement came to a crashing halt when she found out he was engaged.
"He seems like a good boy," her father said. "Make sure you bring someone like that home. Not all those riff-raffs on the street. But anyway, I trust you."
Eliana smiled. She knew better than to trust solely on her instincts. After what happened with Kene, she had learnt to trust God when it came to relationships and other aspects of her life. She wouldn't deny she enjoyed Oba's company, and how funny and easy-going he was. He was the kind of guy she would love to get to know and maybe end up with. But she wasn't going to let her feelings run ahead of God, especially towards someone who was engaged. There was no way they could be together. Plus, she had her concerns about his alcohol drinking habits. Fingers crossed the drinks she saw were really for his friends, not him. Whatever the case was, he wasn't her problem. She wasn’t going to spend time thinking about him before unholy thoughts flooded in.
Later that night, as she collapsed on her bed after tidying up the kitchen, she put down thoughts in her journal:
No matter what happens, whether I love a man or not, get married or not, my love for Christ isn't going to be shaken. I know nothing can be compared to my love for Him. It’s amazing how much I have grown spiritually in the last few months, and how I have come to know Him. Even in the coming year, I want to grow more in love with Him.
Romans 8 came to mind. It was one of her favourite verses, with words on how inseparable she was from the love of Christ. Smiling, she wrote, I have discovered God's awesome love for me and the knowledge of it makes my heart swell with love for Him. Sometimes I have shivers just thinking about it.
Nothing can shake Your love for me. I would love and serve You with everything within me regardless of what the future brings. And I have a feeling it’s going to be exciting.


P.s You can get the full book on Okadabooks:
https://okadabooks.com/book/about/once_upon_a_first_love/19766

Hardcopies are also available

***

Eliana didn't want to complain, but her frown said it all. She wasn't happy that her father sent her out on Christmas Day to buy drinks. Her mother added chicken to the list. She was hosting a few people from church for Christmas lunch and she wasn't sure she had enough chicken for everyone.
As if that wasn’t enough, her brother was tagging along.
This isn't how I planned my day at all.
She held her shopping basket as she perused their wide section of chicken, hoping to pick a fat, juicy piece with plenty meat. The kind her mother would be pleased with.
"Big Sis, can you get a drink for me? I'm thirsty."
"Better wait till we get to the house. I'm not wasting my money on your sugar rush," she said while still looking. The shop was crowded and Eliana didn't want anyone to grab what she wanted.
"But I'm really thirsty!"
Eliana let out an exasperated breath. "Go and take water. And get some drinks as well. Make sure you come back quickly so we can leave this place." She knew the queue to pay would waste time. Within a few minutes, she was satisfied with her choice. She picked it up and dropped it in her basket. She craned her neck to the drinks section and saw her brother reaching into a fridge.
So what has he been doing since?
"Eliana?"
She looked around and her heart skipped a beat. Her throat clogged when she saw Timilehin’s cousin staring at her. She was pleasantly surprised to see him, and even more that he remembered her name.
"Hi Oba.” She gave a little wave. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” He shifted left, letting a chubby woman through with her son. The woman glared at them before passing.
“The crowd here is just too much. Are you also doing Christmas shopping?" She gestured at his trolley, filled with all sorts of drinks and alcohol.
Does he drink? she thought to herself.
"Not exactly. There's a party a friend of mine is having and I'm helping out with the drinks. What about you?"
Eliana explained her predicament to him, ending it with a sigh.
He laughed. "Pele. It's one of those things. Family wouldn't be family if they didn't stress you out. Do you stay around?"
"Yes. Just down the road. You?"
"No. Are you guys done? Maybe I could give you guys a lift if you don’t mind waiting a bit for me." he said, looking apologetic.
Eliana quickly weighed her options, knowing her preferred choice from the get-go.
"Please wait. It's Christmas. Let me show the love of Christ."
She laughed and nodded.

***

Oba’s mother stared at her son’s baby photo dreamily. It seemed like yesterday when he came into her world. He was a peaceful baby, and never gave her trouble. How she missed those days. Or am I being too hard on him? she wondered. No. Just like any good mother, she wanted what was best for her son. And his current girlfriend wasn't it.
Why was he so bent on choosing her? Why couldn't it be like old times when she could tell him what to do and her words were final? Even the girl she had chosen for him had been thrown back in her face.
Mrs Afolayan kept the photograph aside. She stood up from her bed and walked over to the dressing table, picking up the expensive gold earrings her husband gave her on her birthday.
It wasn't that Nene wasn't beautiful. She was. But beauty wasn’t as important. Could she take care of her son? Would she be a good mother to their children? Would she stand fast when the troubles of marriage came, and not run away? All those questions had the same answer in her mind. It was a simple “No”.
"You look beautiful dear."
She smiled, her heart leaping, as she stared back at her husband’s reflection in the mirror. He was handsome in his cream buba and sokoto. "Thank you."
"I don't think you should give that out, Helen." He said, hinting at one of the gifts she placed on the bed. She knew he was referring to what Nene had sent to her through Oba. She had already gift wrapped it for a family member. They were having a dinner party, hosting her husband's brother and sisters.
"But if I'm not going to use them, why should I keep them?"
He walked up to her and stopped behind her. "If it's because the girl is Igbo, then you better find a better excuse." He took the chain from her hands and wore it on her neck for her. "Perfect."
Helen smiled in appreciation. Her husband was ever thoughtful. She had complained when he gave her the gold set, asking where she would wear them to since they were both retired and rarely attended functions.
"Even if you have to wear it for me in the house, then do so. You're worth it."
"Don't you want your son to enjoy what we have? Don't you want him to be happy?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
"Nkan te so ko da. Of course I want him to be happy. But Kunle, that woman is not for him. She's not a proper Yoruba girl. No home training."
"Is Chioma a bad person?" he asked, referring to his younger brother's wife.
"No."
“Does she lack home-training?”
She shook her head.
Kunle caressed her arms while peering at her in the mirror. "Give her a chance. If she's not God's will, then let it be scattered. If it is, pray for grace to love her." He kissed the side of her head and told her to hurry up, that his brother was on his way. And just like that, he had settled the matter.
Oh Lord, do that which You will. Hurry and perform it. If she's not Your will for Oba, then don't let them marry. Please. . .

***

Femi kissed both sides of her face. She looked up at him and lovingly patted him on his. "Merry Christmas to you too, dear. You're too charming. Why no woman has snagged you still baffles me."
"Abi o! I wonder too." Osaz said, but he was all smiles. "Maybe it's the gray in your beard that's causing them to run."
Femi ignored him and gave a reply to Osaz’s mother. "Mummy, God's timing is the best. How are you feeling now?"
"Much better. Thank you my son."
At that moment, Oluchi, Osaz’s wife, came out and crossed the room to hug Femi. For someone who gave birth to twins almost three months ago, she looked good. Some of his patients still carried their baby weight for months, blaming it on stress and not enough help amongst other excuses.
"Don't mind Osaz. Me, I'm on your side." Oluchi looked at her husband. "You don't know you can't just propose to any woman? When you found me, was it not God that led you? Or you think it was by your good looks that I married you?"
Osaz snorted. "Woman, leave that matter. Didn’t you just admit I have good looks? At the end of the day, shebi you're in my house."
Femi laughed and shook his head at the both of them. They were like this whenever he was with them, like Tom and Jerry in live action.
"Where are the kids? I brought gifts for them." He raised the pink paper bags up for her to see.
"Awww, thanks Femi. They are sleeping."
"Have you gotten around to decorating their room yet?" He dropped the bags on their centre table and sat down on a couch. Osaz had mentioned trying to get the room ready but was too busy.
Oluchi brought over a tray with a glass and soft drinks. "Not yet. I have been trying to understand my schedule so I can get it done myself. Why? Do you have someone in mind?"
Femi thought of Eliana. She had mentioned running courses in Interior Design and he happened to see the beautiful designs she had made in the children's church. He knew she would be thrilled to land the job.
”Yes. She goes to my church and she's really good."
"And affordable?" Osaz asked.
"Yes, that too.” He pulled out his phone from his jacket. “Osaz, I will send her number to you, so you two can talk."
Oluchi thanked him and left the living room to attend to matters in the kitchen. Osaz's mum, on the other hand, dashed off to check on the babies.
"Thanks for giving me time off,” Osaz said. “Oluchi really appreciated me being around to take care of my mother and help out with the twins."
"Why don't you get a nanny?"
Osaz snorted. "I don't trust nannies. That's one thing my wife and I don't see eye to eye on. But enough about me. How's your babe? Has she finally agreed for you?"
Femi didn't want to talk about Peju. She was still on his mind and quite frankly, he was tired. He had handed everything over to God and was going to keep doing what he had to do. If she was happy with her new man, then fine, it was okay by him. He wasn’t going to force himself, or keep feeling jealous.
"Can we not talk about this?"
Osaz raised a brow. "I'm guessing things didn't go as planned. It's fine. You know I’m here for you. What's the latest with you, besides that?"
Femi thought of Halimat Ali, his new-found friend who seemed as troubled as the sea on a rainy day. There were things about her he was yet to figure out. In little ways, she reminded him of Peju; having a tough exterior with a soft centre. She loved laughing and was caring when she wanted to be. He didn't know why Halimat came his way and opened up to him, but one thing he knew was God had His hand in it. The best he could do was keep her in his prayers and be a friend.
"Nothing much. Work, rest and church. That's pretty much the summary of my life at the moment." He wasn’t ready to tell Osaz about her.
"It's all good. As long as you're fine.” He paused. “I'm sorry if I've been pressuring you about marriage and kids lately. I just want you to be happy."
"Thanks for the concern. I’m happy, just not how you’d expect. A family doesn't determine my happiness. God does." He knew there were days he felt alone, but he was never lonely.
"Okay. I believe you." Osaz tapped Femi's thigh. "There's a movie you should watch. It's action packed and I trust you would love it."
"Not as much as he would love to see these young ones," Oluchi said, walking slowly towards him with a pink double-stroller. He got up and met her half way, squatting to see her daughters. "Hi lovelies. It’s Uncle Femi, your favourite god-father in the world."
"Since you're their favourite, just pay for their room then," Osaz chipped in.
"Osaz!"
"What? It's a suggestion."
Femi paid little attention to them. He gave his finger to one of the kids and she grabbed it. Holding on tightly. Lord, I won't mind a girl first. "Is it just me or they are getting more beautiful as the days go by?"
Oluchi laughed. "Don't ask me. I'm biased."
"God bless you Osasere and Osayemwenre." Femi said. Someday, he would have his own kids. He just knew it. And whoever God chose to make that reality with was fine by him.

AryEmber:
Wonderful story Tope, been a while since I enjoyed a story like this, thank you for sharing. Keep it coming! BTW, I don't know if you made a mistake or you didn't actually know but when Abdul's mother greeted him with 'as salam alaykum', his reply should be,'wa alaykum salam'. Waiting patiently for next update.

Oh wow. Thanks for letting me know.

CHAPTER SIX

Peju was a nervous wreck. Her heart kept beating wildly, her palms a sweaty mess. She also kept rubbing her arms even in her mother’s warm home.
I love you, you love me. We aren't testing waters. We are going to get married so why can't we be together? Abdul’s statement kept replaying in her mind over and over again. And the idea was scarily becoming more appealing.
Last night, she saw herself in Abdul's arms. She was naked, happy and melting because of his kisses. Sadly, it was all a dream, but she didn't want it to be a dream. She wanted it to be her reality.
A part of her was jealous and angry at the thought of him being with another woman. But what right did she have to feel this way? He was no way obligated to her when they had broken up, or to the romance they had once shared.
She hadn't been in any serious relationship with anyone and had focused on her work, God and her mother. There had been little time for romance and to be honest, she wasn’t interested in the men who approached her. It seemed God had saved her for this moment by bringing Abdul back into her life and wanted them together. If not, why would they happen to meet again? Why would she still have love in her heart for him after all these years?
Yes, their relationship was far from perfect. They quarrelled from time to time. Their last fight caused a tiny rift between them. Peju had to settle quickly but in the end, it had left her afraid.
"What are you thinking about?" Peju spun around from the window to see her mother carrying a plate of food towards her small dining table.
"Mummy, I asked if you needed help and now you have cooked the food." Hopefully, that will change the topic.
"You have forgotten this is my job. If I needed your help I would have asked for it." She placed the steaming plate of jollof-rice on the table and wiped her hands on a napkin. "How is your boyfriend? I thought you would come with him."
"He had to make a few stops on the way. He will be here soon.” She took a slice of plantain, put it in her mouth and sat on a chair. “He's also hosting a few people from work later in the evening."
"Hmmm.” Her mother sat adjacent to her. “Love looks good on you. See how you’re shining.”
Peju laughed. “That’s true. Before I forget, I saw a photo of Titi, my friend from school. She was practically half-naked.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Peju nodded.
“What about that your other friend?”
“Antonia? I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her.”
“E ya. And you three were so close. It’s sad how things end.” With concern in her eyes, she continued, “You and Abdul should do quick and marry. Don’t waste any time before your relationship ends again and another woman snatches him.”
“He didn’t get married when I wasn’t with him. Why is it now he’s here that he would marry someone else?”
Her mother clapped her hands together and hissed. “You talk like a novice.” She pulled her right ear. “My dear, this is Nigeria. One woman can do juju for him and take him from you. Sit down there and be saying he won’t marry someone else. Act fast!” She snapped her fingers. “Get pregnant if possible. You said he’s rich now. Ehen, which woman doesn’t like good thing?”
Peju was trying hard not to laugh at her mother’s advice. Neither was she going to let it get to her. She trusted Abdul, and nothing could compete with what he felt for her.
She recalled having to apologise for introducing him to Eliana as her boss, and not her boyfriend. He felt she was playing games; she didn’t see their love as the real deal. But she did, more than he would possibly know.
"It's not like that Abdul. Honestly. I just don't want her to know about us yet."
He immediately frowned. "Why? It makes no sense to me."
"I panicked. She has been trying to hook me up with a guy from church and I told her I'm not interested."
As if understanding suddenly dawned on him, he blinked. "You didn't want to tell her because I'm a Muslim?"
"Abdul don't -"
"No, it's the truth. You are afraid of what people would think." He shook his head, baffled. "Since when did you become this woman, Peju? Someone that’s afraid of what people think?"
"I'm not afraid!" she snapped, annoyed that he was getting to the core of her worries. "I just don't want her wahala. That's all. It doesn't stop me from loving you or wanting to marry you. If you asked me right now I would say yes."
He raised his brow. His gaze questioning. "Are you sure?"
She nodded despite the gnawing feeling in her chest. She loved him. She really loved him. "Yes."
He stared at her for what seemed like several minutes and came close to her, enveloping her in his arms. "I believe you. But I won't ask you to marry me yet. Not now."
She was scared at that moment. Not because he wouldn't believe her or ask her hand in marriage, but because of the relief that had flowed through when he said he would ask her later. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. No, far from it. Marriage was just very important to her, and to her, a wrong decision could mean spending the rest of her life with regrets. Peju didn’t want hers to have the kind of ending her mother’s had. It made her busy with activities just to fill up the loneliness in her life. But things with Abdul will be different because he loves me.
Satisfied with that thought, she spoke with her mum about other matters; making sure to steer clear from talk of Abdul and herself. Peju was halfway done with her food when he arrived, looking good in his wine native attire. He also came bearing gifts.
"Ah, thank you, my son,” her mother said. “If I had known you were bringing me a present, I would have prepared yours."
"Haba Mummy. It's not a problem." He took his seat beside Peju, gave her a side hug and squeezed her shoulder gently.
"It’s what courtesy demands. I will send Peju to you," she said, leaving no room for arguments. "Meanwhile, I was just telling Peju how good she looks when she's in love. I'm glad you two still love each other after many years apart."
“Your daughter is an amazing woman and I’m fortunate to be with her.” Abdul rubbed Peju’s shoulders once more before taking her spoon and eating out of her food.
"You can finish it," Peju told him, as she watched him take spoon after spoon.
"No o! So you can cheat me of Mum's delicious cooking abi? Please bring my own for me. I'm very hungry."
Her mother laughed. "Don’t worry, Peju. Eat your food. I will get his."
As soon as her mother was out of ear-shot, Peju questioned Abdul on his so-called hunger. "I thought you had food where you’re coming from."
He took another spoonful, chewed and swallowed before answering, "I didn't eat there since I knew I was coming over. It won't be nice not to eat your mother's food nau. And besides, I have missed her cooking. I remember when you would bring her Amala and gbegiri for me in school.”
Peju laughed. Her mother was so wrong. Abdul was crazy about her. Nothing and no one was going to take his love from her. She was willing to fight for him.
There was a soft whisper against her heart, and suddenly, she felt cold.
Even with Me?

...

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Ann2012:
So so interesting, well done OP

Don't focus on the lack of comments for now, gradually people will turn up to read this interesting piece of yours. Keep on with the good work

Thank you. Please what's OP?

***

I don't mean for us to be anything more than friends. You're a great guy. You're fun to hang out with, but I would rather we stay friends.
Femi angrily dropped his pen on the opened file and cleaned the sides of his mouth. It was a week since he had seen Peju. They barely saw at church too. Was she avoiding him? Did she not want his friendship as well?
God, I thought she was the woman I would finally settle down with. Where did I go wrong?
No answer came to heart.
God, why are you being silent on this? I'm confused right now. Did I get it wrong?
I know the plans I think towards you.
Femi knew that to be true, yet there were times things hadn't gone the way it should and it made him wonder and doubt such plans.
Did God's plan include suffering? Quite frankly, he was tired of his share of heartbreaks.
"There's a lady who wants to see you." He almost jumped at the voice of the nurse he hadn't heard walk in.
"It's not a patient?"
"She is but she didn't request her file - only to see you." He could hear the curiosity in her voice. But he didn't give room for speculation.
"Send her in."
Within a minute his door opened once again and Femi looked up to see a woman smiling at him, dressed in an all black fashionable hijab. He was taken aback at her appearance.
"Miss Ali?"
She nodded. "Yes, Dr Alakija. I almost thought you wouldn't recognize me dressed like this." She spread her hand over her outfit. "I guess you can say I have changed."
"Please have your seat."
She did so and released her bag from her shoulder.
"So what can I do for you today?"
"I have come to take you for lunch." He raised a brow and she rushed on to say. "It's the least I can do after how much you helped me."
He shook his head and waved his hand at her. "You don't have to take me for lunch. I'm just doing my job."
She pursed her lips and Femi hoped he hadn't offended her. That was the least he wanted to do. "Please let me. You may think it's unnecessary but it's just my way of saying thank you. God only knows what would have happened if I - ," She paused and took a deep breath and looked down at her fingers, "If you hadn't caught it immediately. Good things haven't always been happening to me and for this to happen. I believe God has maybe heard my prayers for a change." She laughed and looked at him. "I'm sure you would think this silly or stupid but that's just -" She shook her head. "Never mind. It was probably a bad idea."
She rose from her seat.
"I will go with you." That earned him a shocked, but happy look from her. He raised a finger. "But on one condition."
"What?"
"What's your name?" Of course he knew her full name since it was on her file but he asked just to break whatever nervousness she had going on.
She laughed. "Halimat. Halimat Ali."
They drove down to a fast-food restaurant not far from the hospital. It was after they had ordered their meals that Femi expressed his curiosity.
"You really just wanted to thank me?"
She smiled. "Are we still going on about that? You don't get this much, do you?"
He shrugged as he bit into his chicken burger and relished the blend of flavours. " Well, a cheque or a gift is usually more predictable, but lunch? That's interesting."
"I'm glad to be the first."
"Thank you very much for the kind gesture."
"You're welcome."
Not wanting to stop the flow of conversation, he asked her to tell him more about herself.
Halimat cleared her throat. "Well, as you know I'm Halimat by name. I work as a chartered accountant in an auditing firm.” She mentioned the name of the company; it was a highly prestigious one Femi knew of. “I schooled abroad for five years plus work experience and came back to do my National Youth Service in Bauchi. I came back to Lagos and started working here when I was done. That's pretty much it."
"Are you happy?" Femi had no idea why he asked that.
"Wow."
"You don't have to answer. I'm sorry I asked."
"No, it's fine. I want to." She smiled a little, then looked down at her full plate. "No. No, I'm not." She raised her head and looked back at him. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life I wish I could change. But like ink, it's hard to wipe away. I've always been the good girl seeking for bad. Like a part of me feels life is too short to play nice. I need to have fun and live a little. My mother is sick and tired of my drama."
"Are you an only child?"
She shook her head. "No. I have two older sisters. They are the best…. I take it you're a Christian?"
Femi nodded.
"You’re different from the ones I know."
"How so?"
"You seem joyful. At peace. And you are always this way every time we see. I think that's what drew me to you."
Okay?
The two talked for the next half hour about their lives and interests before parting ways. And while she was a nice distraction, Femi still couldn't get Peju Adams out of his head.

***

Eliana loved the décor of the hall. It was obvious a lot of money had been spent. Peach and coral. Each table had a tall vase of white flowers, with exquisite white and silver dish-wares.
Everything was breathtakingly beautiful.
She couldn’t wait to start her interior design business. As God would have it, two people had called her in the last two weeks to offer her gigs. They were small projects, but still opportunities to show what she could do.
Her daydreaming was cut short by a nudge on her side. She turned to Peju who leaned close and extended her phone to her. "This is Titi. We were friends in secondary school." An ebony beauty smiled back at her in the picture, with serious cleavage on display. She also had a black belly-button stud, revealed by her crop top.
"She's a fine girl. Do you guys still talk?"
"No. Haven't heard from her in ages and I don't intend on connecting. People change a lot after school. And besides, I didn't really have true friends back then." Peju adjusted herself on her seat.
Eliana placed her hand on her chest. "Like me abi?"
"What would you lovely ladies like to drink?" Timilehin asked, interrupting their teasing.
"Juice please." Eliana answered for the both of them.
“And food? Have you guys had a look at the menu?”
This time Peju spoke, sharing their meals of choice. After Timilehin left their table, his cousin in tow, she continued to scroll through her Instagram time-line on her phone. Eliana, on the other hand, curiously watched the two men leave. Timilehin, she knew from church, but it was her first time meeting his cousin, Oba. He seemed nice but had kept to himself during the drive to the reception. He is probably really shy, she concluded. She blushed at the memory of their eyes making contact in the car, and her having to look away. It was necessary, before she left the wrong impression that she was checking him out. His cousin asked her out, after all.
At the wedding, she continued to watch them in silence. Timilehin was busy trying to cajole Oba into carrying a baby. Timilehin was a fun guy, fine too. How exactly he felt, only time would tell.
Ten minutes later, both men returned with servers carrying their orders. A lady followed. She was dressed in a black, halter neck dress that stopped abruptly at her thighs. Her complexion, an unnatural shade of yellow. She also had a handful of stares her way.
She greeted Timilehin who waved briefly.
"Babe," Oba said to her, before giving her a side hug. "Nene, these are Timilehin's church members. Eliana and Peju. Ladies, this is my fiancée, Nene Okafor."
Nene blinked. "Eliana? What kind of name is that?"
"Hebrew."
"Oh. Interesting” She said dryly. She turned her attention back to Oba, placing her hand on his shoulder. Eliana could have sworn it was a deliberate attempt to show off her dazzling engagement ring. Peju tapped her arm lightly and Eliana leaned close to hear her over what the MC was saying.
"Don't mind her. She's insecure."
Eliana laughed, but deep down she couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed that he was in a relationship.

****

"You did what?!"
Oba held back his phone from his ear as thick Yoruba insults blasted through. It was his mother. Timilehin walked into the room at that moment with a bottle of Coke in one hand and locally baked Agege bread in the other. Oba cringed as he watched Timilehin pour the coke into the bread. Years of watching him do so still didn’t make it easy to bear.
"Mummy, calm down nau." He could hear his father in the background trying to placate her as well.
"Kin fara bale? Your son wants to marry that Igbo girl and you are telling me to relax? You aren't bothered?"
Oba heard his father say something but didn't quite get it. He put two and two together when his mother replied, "Even if she's a human being, some human beings in this world are wicked! Olorun maję! God forbid! Obatotosinloluwa Afolayan, se o n gbo mi, if you bring that woman to my house I will send you two packing. I refuse to accept her as my daughter. That manner-less ingrate. I have told you now." A painful silence followed before she ended the call.
He closed his eyes in surrender. He was tired and yet, it was still morning.
"So wetin Mumsi talk?"
In response to his question, Oba shook a tired finger at Timilehin. His cousin could barely contain his laughter.
"My dad is cool with it. Mum, on the other hand, says Nene isn't good for me. That she lacks manners. I don't know where she gets all these ideas from. The girl gave her ankara wrappers just the other day."

Why did his mother have to make everything so difficult? Nene had already shared the news with her family, and the world on Instagram. What if his mother followed through with her threats and didn't accept her as his wife? What would he do?
"Timi, Nene is perfect for me! She's beautiful. Gorgeous. Great in -" He was going to say bed but thought better of it and said, "The kitchen."
"Are you sure? The efo your Madam cooked made me purge for three days straight." He bit into his almost finished Bread-Coction.
"That was her second time of cooking it o. Next time will be better."
"Which next time? Abi she wan make I die from food poisoning?"
Oba would have laughed at Timilehin’s joke. But not today. Everything was falling apart. "She's an okay person. It doesn't get better than that."
"Guy, are you high? Since when do people marry wife because she's an okay person.”
Oba snorted.
“If you want to follow God, follow Him hundred percent. Not all this one leg in, one leg out behaviour abeg. You’re there collecting nyash anyhow." Timilehin stopped and turned to the wall clock. "Time don go. Are you still game for the wedding today?"
"Yeah."
Timilehin rose from his seat. "Okay, let me quickly change. I invited one babe for church. Abeg, we go pick her and her friend before we reach the wedding."
Oba nodded absent-mindedly. Today can’t get any worse than this.

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CHAPTER FIVE

4th of December, 2015

So I cut my hair. My dad nearly killed me when he found out. He said I'm still under his roof and so I shouldn't believe I own myself. I thought Jesus owned me, but I guess I was wrong. #justkidding. But I get what he means. I’m still under his authority and as long as I’m in his house, he’s my head. Pastor George explained this at a service. So I apologized.
I like my new look. It makes me feel like I’m 21 and not 24. My mum - and partner in crime - agrees. In her own words, I look gorgeous. That’s why I love her so much!
In other news, someone in my church asked me to attend his cousin’s wedding with him. It’s a funny first date (should I call it a date?) but I'm cool with it. I feel a nudge to do so, so I’ll go with him. I'm hoping to drag Peju along.
I’ll keep you updated on things.

"Who are you?" Eliana asked the tall, good looking man who dropped Peju off at her place. Nice build. Nice smile. Nice designer sunglasses too.
"Eliana!"
The fine man laughed. "Hi Eliana. Peju has told me a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you in person."
Eliana raised a brow, looked at Peju and back at him. "Well, I'm sorry but I've heard nothing about you."
"I'm sure you have,” he said, his gaze fixed on Peju. Eliana didn't miss that gaze. It was piercing, intense, love drunk. "You just didn’t connect it with me." He turned to her and extended his hand. "Abdul Layeni."
Eliana shook the hand reluctantly. Why had Peju not told her about this gorgeous creature of a man? "Eliana Awojobi. It’s a pleasure." She crossed her arms against her chest. "So how did you guys meet exactly?"
"Back in school. I'm her boy--"
"Boss! He's my boss," Peju cut in. Eliana and Abdul turned to her, puzzled.
"Yes," he agreed and forced a smile, "I'm her boss."
"Oh. Why is your boss dropping you at my house?"
Peju cupped her elbow. "Eliana you're asking too many questions. He just did me a favour. Please, Sir, you can go. Don't mind my friend. Thank you very much for the lift."
Peju dragged Eliana into the house, not waiting to see Abdul enter his car and drive off.
"You’re rude sha," Eliana said as they walked towards the house. "How can you just leave him like that?"
"He will survive. And you, don't be asking questions like that. It's wrong."
"Wrong how? I was concerned. It's not everyday you see a boss go out of his way to drop your friend at your house. A very fine boss. How do you manage, staring at him everyday?"
"Simple. I don't stare." They entered the living room and met Eliana's parents. Peju greeted them and they exchanged small talk before dismissing them. They needed to get ready for the wedding.
"You're such a killjoy," Eliana continued once they were in her bedroom. "What happened to the fun Peju I knew? You barely have time for me since you started that your new job. You hardly come to church. Even Bible Study sef, you don’t come."
"You are nagging.”
“And you are evading. Why do I feel like you're holding something back from me?" Eliana asked as she wore her earrings. Timilehin had sent a text that he was on his way and she didn't want to keep him waiting.
"It’s all in your mind. Anyways, Femi called me back."
Eliana gave a girlish squeal. "That's awesome! So when is the next date?"
"Wait first and let me finish." She took a deep breath. "I told him I'm not interested in him.”
Eliana's eyes widened and looked at her friend like she had lost her mind. "Why? Why would you do something like that? The guy is crazy about you."
Femi was a really nice guy. A God-fearing man. He was caring to a fault and very considerate. She couldn’t understand why her friend wasn't interested in him at all.
"But the thing is I'm not crazy about him. I can’t see myself marrying him."
"And I was rooting for you guys o. I was already dreaming of my beautiful dress as your maid-of-honour. Bright yellow, take note. I was also thinking of powder blue and yellow for the wedding reception."
"Blue and yellow ke?" Peju smacked her lips together after applying a red lipstick. She was standing in front of a dresser mirror, "Better remove such thoughts from your head.“
"I’ll try." She sighed. "Question. Did you pray about ending things?"
Peju laughed. "Madam, must I pray about everything? Hasn't God given us sense to know who to marry?"
Eliana stared at her friend as she applied a blue eye-shadow and mascara. There was something going on in her friend's life. She could feel it. Why is she defensive? "Well, since you surrendered your life to Him, and asked Him to take control, it only makes sense that you allow Him lead you in that aspect of your life. If you feel you can give Him other aspects of your life and not your choice of a husband, when trouble comes, then eventually you have to give it to Him.”
“I’ve heard, Madam Pastor.”

PrudySara:
I'm so enjoying this story.
Well done O.P, nice story you've got.

thanks for inviting me Ann2012

Thank you! Please invite more friends if you can

***

Abdul was lost in thought. Christmas was on its way, and he knew he would have little time to reflect, thanks to the constant meetings and the company's end of the year party. His lips curled up in a smile. He wanted to take Peju shopping for a dress and have her walk hand in hand with him. He wanted everyone to know she was his. All in due time.
His phone rang again and he assumed it was Peju till he saw the foreign caller ID.
"Good evening, Son. How are you? As-salamu alaykum.”
"As-salamu alaykum, Ma. I'm fine and you? How is Daddy? And Sherifat? And Biodun?"
"All fine. ” She clucked her tongue. “It's too cold over here. I have been telling your father to let us have holiday in Nigeria this time around. I need some sun and hot akamu."
He laughed, knowing fully well his father would be stubborn about returning to the country. He loved the stress-free life. "Let's hope he agrees."
She snorted. "He has too o jere. I have told him no more food for one week if he disagrees and on Christmas day, he would eat McDonald's." She whispered the next words. "I think he's gradually changing his mind."
He laughed. "Okay o." He rubbed his eyes tiredly and looked at the time. It was barely nine. He couldn't wait till Peju came around. Maybe he could coerce her into cooking for him.
"How's Peju?"
"She's fine.” His mother was elated when he told her they were back together.
"That's good. I’m glad you two still love each other. I'm hoping for wedding bells next year."
Abdul smiled as the dream he had of her wearing a wedding dress came to mind. "Insh’Allah."
"Greet her for me. I called to see how you are faring. We will talk later. Your father is asleep and your sisters stepped out to see a movie."
"Okay Ma. Talk to you later. Greetings to everyone."
He rolled out of bed and went down the stairs to take a bottle of water. Right then, the doorbell rang. He didn't have to ask who it was, flinging the door open with joy.
"Finally."
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with desperate longing.
He gave her one last kiss and stepped back to stare into her eyes; glad that the love he felt could be seen.
"Thanks for coming," he said a second before his tummy grumbled.
Peju raised a brow at him. "You haven't eaten?"
"No. I was hoping you would make something for me."
She moved past him, and he had the pleasure of watching her swinging backside as she moved to the sofa and slumped her bag on it.
"Do I look like your cook?" She spun around to look at him. "Or your maid?"
"You would be my cook as soon as you marry me." He rubbed his stomach. "I'm very hungry and I think I have headache too."
"You better have mouth sores as well with your lying tongue."
"Haba, is it your husband you're talking to like that? Better behave yourself. Oya go to the kitchen and prepare food for me before I change my mind."
With laughter in her eyes, she asked, "Change your mind about what?"
Abdul took the remote control and turned on the TV, settling down on a seat. "Make the food first and I will tell you."
"Hmm, so what do you want to eat?"
"Surprise me."
Shaking her head, she gave a slow hiss and plodded to the kitchen. He laughed to himself as he tuned to a football match. He hoped she would make eba and efo-riro for him. Two days ago, he bought ingredients to make the soup but couldn’t find the time.
The thought of food triggered memories of Beverley, one of his Canadian casual flings. She was great in bed, but when it came to matters of the stomach, she stuck to what she could make - french toasts, eggs, pancakes and waffles. None of these could hold body like a typical Nigerian meal of amala and gbegiri, or semovita and edikaikong soup.
"Abdul!"
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Do you want iru in your soup?"
"Yes love."
The match wasn't of much interest to him. The players’ sprints across the field were all a blur. Instead of watching, he reflected on what his mother had said about wedding bells. In truth, what were they waiting for? He would marry her the next day if possible. He let the thought linger in his mind till dinner was served.
After a delicious meal of efo-riro and Poundo yam, Abdul took her hand and led her to the white loveseat in the living room. He sat down and pulled her down on his lap.
"You know I'm crazy about you," he said as he drew a line with his finger down her arm. "I'm your scapegoat."
"Awww. So sweet."
"What do you think if we got married next year?"
"Are you proposing?"
"Maybe."
"Then you better go back to the drawing board because this isn't romantic." She pulled at his beard. "You should plan something nice and go down on one knee and ask for my hand in marriage. Not me sitting on your lap with you acting like a king."
"Am I not the king of your heart?"
“Cheesy much!” She stared into his eyes. "But always."
"Since I know what you want then I will plan towards it. Meanwhile, your lips are distracting me from thinking straight."
Peju threw her head back in laughter. "Are you complaining?"
"No. I should just kiss you now so my heart can stop pounding against my chest."
"Smooth operator. You have always had a way with words."
He smiled as she leaned close and kissed him. A moan escaped his lips as the kiss deepened. His arms moved to rub her back. "When are we taking the next step, Peju?" he murmured as he kissed her ear.
"After the wedding."
"Why not now?"
His question ended the moment abruptly. Peju stared at him with soft, yet piercing eyes. “Abdul, we have discussed this already."
"But you can always change your mind. I love you, you love me. We aren't testing waters. We are going to get married, so why can't we be together?"
She got off his lap. "How many people were you with when you left?"
"Two or three."
Her eyes widened. "Two or three? So you aren't even sure how many they are. For all I know, there could even be more. "
He licked his lips. "No. I was only with three people and they were all casual flings."
"Casual flings my ass!” Her eyes watered. “Abdul, you took what was sacred between us and shared it with everyone!"
"Peju -"
She held up her hand. "I'm going home."
"You can't leave like this. Let's settle the matter now."
Peju didn't answer as she picked up her bag and headed towards the front door. He followed suit. "Habeebah, listen to me."
She slapped his hand away as he touched her, before facing him with angry eyes. "I didn't go around sleeping with men while you were away. It didn't feel right. What is it with you guys just throwing around your thing with anyone in a skirt?"
Her pain hurt him. He tried holding her again but she shoved his hands away.
“I thought you were different, Abdul. I really did, but I guess I was wrong.”
He pulled her against his chest and held her down. She struggled to break free. "I am different. I'm sorry I did what I did. I'm sorry I gave what was only yours to others."
She gave up the struggle.
"I'm sorry I hurt you." He pressed his lips on her forehead while he whispered how sorry he was.
"It's fine. It's expected you would move on."
"But I'm here now. And I love you." He raised her chin and leaned down to kiss her. "Don't ever doubt it."

***

"You are a beautiful woman Peju," Femi said softly over the candle-lit table. They had just finished an exquisite main course in a fine Italian restaurant in an elite Lekki neighbourhood. Femi assured her that dessert would blow her mind. Tiramisu he called it, with a delicious cocoa centre and coffee exterior.
She lifted her glass of non-alcoholic wine and took a sip. "Thank you. And you look good too. Well rested."
"Really? I wish I could rest some more but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you. You're a sight for sore eyes."
She smiled at the compliment. It was going to be hard to say this was going to be their last date.
"So tell me more about this job of yours."
"Well, I work in RAFOL. We supply certain services to oil companies. I work as a P.A to the Managing Director who recently inherited the company from his late uncle. At work, there's always one appointment to make or cancel for my boss. Flights to book. Meetings to seat on and all that. Being called late at night to set some last minute things up."
Peju gave an easy laugh and swept a strand of her hair aside. She remembered the night Abdul had called just because he couldn't sleep. She had expressed her grievances over it but after begging her, they spoke for close to two hours. Thankfully, the next day had been a public holiday.
"It's hectic but I love my job."
"That's nice. Sounds like a lot of work. I'm sure there must be perks as well.”
Like travelling to Aberdeen at the last minute, she thought to herself.
"Yeah. What about you? You mentioned you became a doctor because helping people is what you love to do. You love the late hours and all that. How would you balance it all when you get married and have children?"
She almost pinched herself. Why did I ask that question? What's my business with his life?
"God first, family second, ministry and then work. I'm a family man. I would be sure to make out time for my wife and kids. Fortunately, my ministry and work are together. I counsel my patients and I ask God to help me deal with them in a way that brings glory to Him and not to me. Irrespective of my work as a doctor, I remind myself that I'm only a vessel being used by God."
Peju found his words profound and somewhat challenging. What could she say about herself and if she was in the will of God?
"So how do you counsel your patients? I've been to one or two hospitals where the doctors refrain from talking to the patients about religion."
He gave an easy laugh. "I feel like I'm on the hot seat."
She raised her hands. "Feel free to refuse to answer."
"No, I will. After all, we're getting to know each other better. Right?"
She nodded, still trying to decide how to tell him they were just friends. That whatever was happening between them was never going to go pass that level.
"Well, let's not look at it as me being a doctor or as you being a personal assistant or a lawyer, teacher or whatever - regardless of whatever field we find ourselves in. As Christians, we’re all ambassadors of Christ. We have the obligation to show forth the Light in our conversations, the way we dress and talk, showing the love of Christ to everyone. I know I run a risk of being queried, even though the hospital is my family’s, but I do what I can.” He laughed. “I feel like I’m preaching.”
“No, go on. Go on…” She found his passion intriguing.
"Okay. Well, I offer them faith in being healed as long as they are ready to believe. There are some patients on their deathbeds who know nothing about Christ. I see that as an opportunity to talk to them and most of them end up being saved.” He paused for a moment then said, “I have a boy who passed on last week. His parents’ firstborn. It hurt, but there was nothing I could do. I’m thankful knowing he died in Christ."
She stared at him and her chest tightened at his eyes drowning in pain. "The boy… were you two close?"
"Yes, we were when I think of it. He shared a lot with me, about his life, his hopes, his dreams." He sighed. "That's in the past now."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks." He laughed. "Okay, it's your turn. Let me ask you a couple of questions. You ready?"
She rubbed her hands together. "Sure!"
"What do you do when you're stressed?"
A little taken back by his question, she sat back on her seat and folded her arms. "Well, I turn off the TV, switch off the lights, pull the curtains with the fans turned on and rest on the tiled floor."
He raised an eyebrow and she covered her mouth with her right hand while laughing. "Crazy, I know but it's what works for me. I just want to shut out the noise and do anything but think."
"Interesting. Do you have any favourite childhood memories?"
She had a lot, mostly sweet. Her sweetest were with Abdul. There were also the few times her family could actually be called a family. "Yes, I do. When my dad was alive he used to take me to Ibadan to see my cousins. We would go once a year, during Easter, and it was always fun. We would eat Frejon with garri and fried stew with fish. Delicious."
"Nice. I have never eaten Frejon before.”
“Seriously? You need to try it.”
“Maybe you would make it for me someday? I can imagine how cute you looked as a little girl. I'm sure you were a beauty then. . . as you are now." She saw his eyes move to her lips. They quickly shifted away.
“Okay.” She cleared her throat. "Femi, I think there's something you need to know. You are a great guy but what we are doing,” she gestured at the both of them, “It’s not something that’s really heading anywhere.”
Femi’s face fell.
“Let’s just be friends. Again, you're a great guy. You're fun to hang out with, but I think it’s best we stay friends."
"Does it have anything to do with my age?"
"No, not at all.”
"Is there another guy in the picture?"
She paused, then nodded. "Yes."
He managed a small smile, his lips twitching. "Then I'm happy for you. Disappointed a bit, but happy you're happy. That's what matters.”
Signalling for a waiter, he continued, “Okay, time for dessert."
"Nah, I think I’ll pass. I'm getting a little tired." And Abdul is waiting.
“Are you sure?”
“Sounds tempting, but I’m good.”
"Okay. Let me just sort out the bill then."
The rest of their evening was tense. Quiet. Uncomfortable. Femi barely looked in her direction the whole time. He was hurting and she knew it. She did that to him. Nice guys like him aren’t supposed to be hurt by good girls like me. But here it was, happening. She will find a way to make it up to him somehow. She would come up with a plan. But right then, she had to rush to Abdul’s and see what he was up to.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was official. Abdul was Peju’s weakness. He was all she could think of even on a hot Sunday afternoon. At church earlier, the pastor had touched on God’s gift of grace to His children and how it helped them overcome life. But she couldn’t care less; the thought of Abdul, sitting front row in her mind.
Aberdeen was wonderful. He made sure to show her all its sights and sounds during their evenings together. They made out under the stars, and spent nights cuddled in each other’s arms. The urge for sex was real and deadly, but she held her own. He was understanding too, not wanting to rush things, and covering her with kisses instead. As for the shopping? She had two heavy suitcases to show for the shopping spree he took her on. They were full to the brim with designer clothes, perfumes, shoes, jewellery and chocolates.
That was love with Abdul. Fun. Exciting. Electric. The giddy feeling of knowing someone was thinking about you all the time. The deep knowing that you are loved and cared for. It was the best feeling ever.
Peju sighed. It had been so easy falling for him back when they were teenagers. There had been no worries or fears of the future. He was mature, and attentive to her needs, placing hers before his. Yes, he had his annoying moments but was generally a gentleman at heart.
It felt strange having him as her boss; it was something she was still trying to get used to. Sometimes it was distracting, when there was a lot of work to get done and he invited her to his office just so he could steal a kiss or two. Apart from that, things were perfect. Magical almost.
She wondered if they could really have a future together. After all, he was back for good. When he relocated to Canada, she didn't think she would see him again, despite his promises of returning. Titi, a former school friend, did same and they hadn't spoken in years. Antonia was also out of the picture. But Abdul was back. He was with her again and maybe, just maybe they could have a happily ever after.
Maybe they could get married. That got her excited, the possibility. After her father died, she had felt so lost, like something had died within her. There was no one she could talk to about her problems. No one who understood her, or could comfort her.
No one?
Peju was struck with guilt. Okay, that wasn’t exactly correct. How could she forget God? God had been there for her. His love had kept her going when times were hard. Together, they had picked up the pieces of her life and she was who she was because of Him.
"What do I do, Lord?" she asked, but no answer came. Again.
She knew if Abdul happened to propose, she would say yes. Yes, there was the daunting fact that he was a Muslim, but she loved him so much. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
"What if you want to marry more than one wife?" she had once asked him.
"The more the merrier."
She shoved an elbow into his ribs, causing him to wince from pain.
"I was just joking jor. I'm not a one man many wives guy. All that one is wahala. I'm okay with you."
"Are you sure?"
He pulled away from her side and stared into her eyes. "Do I look like I'm joking? You should know when we’re talking serious."
She made a face.
"Don't think about that one nau. Like I said I was just joking."
"What if tomorr-"
He placed a finger on her lips, then caressed her right cheek. "What if this. What if that. Peju! You worry too much. Don't worry about tomorrow. Today has enough worries."
He kissed her then, his arms going around her waist. His soft lips melting away her fears. He pulled back, rubbing her back with his palm. His loving eyes driving away her fears and worries. "I love you, Habeebah. Whatever tomorrow brings, we will face it together. Alright?"
She nodded, afraid to say how much she loved him. Everything just felt intense. And so she did the only thing she could. She showed him, with her body. Despite the pain as her first, it was a beautiful moment. Alone, in a dark corner of his parents’ house, he made love to every part of her body, down to her toes. No questions. No regrets. Just love in its purest form.
Love is as strong as death; jealousy is as strong as the grave. Love bursts into flames and burns like a hot fire.
The words came quickly to her. It was one of the scriptures Eliana had shared when she was crazy about her then-boyfriend, Kene. Her hands flew to her chest and she could literally feel heat. Was this what Eliana was talking about? Was this what Abdul's love was doing to her? It felt so intense. She was going to fight to make it work, no matter the cost.
Her phone rang. It was Femi. He had called multiple times but she had been so busy. Not to mention, she hadn't seen him in church as well.
Hope he's okay.
She picked her phone then and there, and called him. It was the third time she called that he answered.
"Hey Peju."
"Femi! Sorry, I missed your call. Didn't see you at church today. Hope you’re okay."
"Yeah, I had a long day at the hospital so I ended up attending the second service. Thanks for checking up. Been trying to reach you for ages."
"I know. I've been busy.” Lies. “Went to Aberdeen the other day for work."
"Wow. Sounds exciting. At least no mosquitoes."
She laughed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "No mosquitoes."
"Awesome. Can we meet up for dinner later this evening? Hope that's okay."
"Er-- sure." She didn’t have a choice, making him wait the way she had. She was surprised he still cared as much.
"Great! I will pick you up at 7. Is that fine?"
"Sure."
"I can’t wait to take you to this new restaurant I discovered. See you at 7."
An hour passed and Peju was dressed. For someone who had emptied out retail shops abroad, it was tough choosing what to wear. She finally settled for an ankara top, jeans and red pumps to match. One of the many pumps Abdul bought her on their trip.
Speaking of Abdul, he would be so jealous if he knew she was going out with another guy. Telling him was not an option. At least not now.
She dabbed some perfume on the back of her ears and wrists. It was a fragrance Abdul had specifically picked out for her, from a Selfridges store on the High Street. She couldn’t wait to spill details of her date with Femi eventually. Maybe when he was being annoying, she would share. She would let him know she had other men pining for her.
Yearning to hear his voice, Peju dialled his number.
"Habeebah!" he said, his voice upbeat.
"Hey hey. Where are you? What are you doing?"
"Just did laundry. Now I’m resting on my bed. What's up?"
Peju closed her eyes, imagining him shirtless on his bed. She opened her eyes to drive away the lewd thoughts. "I wanted to hear your voice. You're doing your laundry yourself? That's impressive. Maybe I’ll drop by later on. Let's say around eight-thirty."
"Sounds good. See you then, let me get some rest for you."
As she ended the call, she felt like an excited school girl madly in love.

AryEmber:
This should be fun, make I spread ma mat here

Are you still here?

Emex100:
i followed someone down here and i can say am happy tagging along.

What a novel

Thank you! Please share with friends

hardeydun:
Interesting! thanks for the update

Thank you! Please share and invite friends �

***

"You look good."
"Thanks. I wish I could say the same about you. Are you okay?"
He took off his dark sunglasses to reveal those dreamy eyes she once loved, along with the long, curly lashes she wished she had. He had always teased her about them, offering to lend them to her.
"I'm fine. It's work that's making me stressed. What about you? Have you gotten a job now?"
"Not yet. I’m doing an Interior Design course though. I just might start my own business." She shrugged her shoulders, like it wasn't a big deal. "But I'm still praying about it."
"That's awesome babes. It's what you've always wanted. I'm really happy for you."
"Thank you.” She clenched her fist. “So, let's get down to business. Why did you want to see me?"
"You don’t want something to eat or drink?"
“Nah, still full from breakfast."
“What did you eat?”
What do you care? “Pancakes.”
“Nice! I remember those fluffy, vanilla pancakes you used to make back then.” Laughing, he placed a hand on his tummy. “In fact, I have you to thank for this pot belly actually."
She responded with a polite smile, the only one she could muster.
“One second.” He rose from his seat and headed to the service counter. About five minutes later, he returned with a tray of jollof-rice, chicken and a bottle of water. What followed next was silence. Thick, heavy and uncomfortable silence.
She watched as he moved his cutlery, picking up every grain in sight. His full mouth rotated in slow circles. With every second that passed, a new thought came, asking why she was there in the first place. Just as she was about to ask out loud, he spoke up, "So you’re probably wondering what this is all about. Why I asked you to come.” He could barely look her in the eye. “I just felt I owed you a serious apology for my mistake. I never meant to hurt you.”
You mistakenly impregnated your colleague, right? Your mouth mistakenly hid the truth from me for two weeks? Your fingers mistakenly broke the news via text? She heard the grudges scream out loud and clear, but another side of her kept them calm. She was determined to move forward. "It's all in the past."
"If so, why don't you answer my calls?"
"Because I have nothing to say to you. To be honest, I was upset for the longest time but God helped me understand grudges weren’t helping. They were weighing me down and I needed to let them go. So from the bottom of my heart, I forgive you."
"Thanks. I really appreciate that."
"How's she? Pregnancy and everything."
"She's fine. Always complaining of one thing or the other. It's either her feet are paining her, or she has back pain and needs a massage. It's tiring."
Eliana didn't say more. How could she feel sorry for him when he was the one who cheated on her? After all, he was merely reaping the fruit of his labour.
"Can I ask a question? Since we are here, we might as well just talk openly." He nodded. "Why did you cheat on me? How did it happen?" She paused. “Was she more attractive than me?"
Kene wiped his mouth with a serviette. "Kemi…” She used to love the way he called her that, with his subtle Igbo accent. “It just happened. Honestly. We were spending a lot of time together and one thing led to another. I wasn't bent on cheating, and no, it's not that I found her more attractive. I guess I was just Hot."
When the full meaning of his words kicked in, she balled her hands to a fist to keep herself from dishing out a slap. "Really? I thought you agreed to be celibate with me?”
He laughed. "Kemi, I'm a guy. I'm moved by what I see and at that time, she moved me.”
"She moved you?" Realizing her voice was raised she calmed down and said, "Question. If the devil offers you cold water in the desert for your soul, would you take it?"
"If I'm really thirsty. . . maybe. See, you're taking it too far. It was a spur of the moment thing and it won't happen again."
Eliana shook her head, staring at him incredulously.
"You deserve happiness, Eliana Oluwakemi Awojobi.” She raised a brow at the use of her full name. “You're an amazing woman and will make a good wife. Unfortunately, you won’t be mine."
“Thanks. I admire you, you know. Your dad may have walked out on you, but here you are. You are ready to raise your child and be there for him or her. However, that doesn’t mean you should marry someone who isn't God's will for you."
She glanced at her watch. It was getting late. She had to head back home to make sure her teenage brother hadn't burned the house down.
"I have to go. Dimeji’s home alone."
"Ah! Dimeji my guy! Hope he's good. Has he passed level fourteen of that his game?"
"Do I know?” She rose to her feet. “Take care of yourself, Kene. All the best."
He smiled and said in a gentle semi-whisper, "And you too, Kemi. Thank you for agreeing to see me, and thanks for your advice. I just needed to clear the air between us so I don’t have heaps of curses on my head. My Baby Mama’s parents have done enough."
With nothing more to say, she smiled and went on her way. She was glad their relationship hadn't been anything more serious. And whatever love she had for him could gladly fade in peace.
She pulled out her phone in the bus and dialled Peju’s number. She owed her updates.



You can get the full book on Okadabooks:
[url]https://okadabooks.com/book/about/once_upon_a_first_love/19766
[/url]

***

"Baby, what's up?" Nene asked, placing her head on his bare chest. Strands from her Peruvian weave lightly tickled him. He rubbed her back in circular motions, loving the feel of her skin against his fingers.
"Nothing. Just thinking jare." He couldn't tell her what was on his mind for fear of hurting her, or driving a bigger wedge between her and his mother.
"What's the time?"
He grabbed his phone from his bed stand. "Past nine."
"Past nine?" She sat up abruptly. "Why didn't you wake me up since nau? You know I have to be at work by eleven." She tossed the covers off her body and got out of bed.
"I'm sorry. I was being selfish. I wanted to spend time with you."
The frown on her face turned to a smile. "Awww, that's so sweet." She sauntered back to him, and with one knee on the bed and a leg on the ground, she brushed her lips against his. "I love you too babe. But you know how important it is that I get this contract." She worked at a real estate company and wanted a promotion badly.
"I know. I will make it up to you when you get back."
"How?" She had a twinkle in her eyes as she smiled at him.
He winked. "Just you wait and see."
Nene got off him and strode to the bathroom. Barely five minutes had gone by when she squealed and ran back to the bedroom. A pillow flew fast his way.
"Hey! It's a yes or no deal. Don't throw a pillow at me."
She screamed again and jumped on him. "I love you. I love you. I love you."
He laughed as she stared at the ring. It had cost him a lot but the look in her eyes assured him that he had made the right decision. Life was short, he felt, so he might as well start living it.
"Will you marry me?"
"Of course I will!” She pulled him to her and kissed him passionately.
"Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for work?” Not that he wanted her to leave. He loved the sudden attention she was giving him.
"My client can wait a little longer. Let me attend to my future husband first."
Oba smiled as her lips took his. In between celebration sex, he fought back memories of his Ibadan trip. As he suspected, a young woman was waiting for him at home. She was gorgeous with skin as sumptuous looking as a bowl of hot pap. But she wasn’t his Nene. Far from it. His mother introduced her as his wife, leading to a heated argument. An argument that eventually drove him back to Lagos. Oba knew his mother loved him but she couldn't control who he wanted to love. It was the very woman in his arms. But despite his victory, why did he feel a heavy mass in his chest?

***

Eliana was busy whisking eggs that morning when a text message came in from Kene, her ex. Amidst the usual pleasantries, he had asked for them to meet up. Eliana’s heart thumped. Why would he think she would want to see him in the first place?
Love forgives. . .
I know, but he hurt me. It's hard to forgive him. I still feel the pain. Is it so bad if I keep my distance as well? We have nothing else to say to each other.
Seventy times seven.
Eliana squeezed her eyes shut. Sometimes, the whole love thing was inconvenient. Why couldn't she just avoid him forever? Why did she have to face him again? What did he even have to say to her? A phone call was enough.
But Eliana, you don't pick your calls.
She could almost feel God laughing at her. This was how her conversations with Him were, especially after the missionary trip. Talking to Him and getting a response. Sometimes, it came as a whisper, or nudging. Other times, He spoke to her through scriptures she read.
Fine, God. I’ll go. But please keep me calm. You know what I’m capable of.

***

4th of November, 2015

The village missionary trip was amazing, with lives being won for Christ. I know it’s all the Holy Spirit’s doing and I’m so grateful He used me.
We visited a village just south of Abeokuta. It was a small village with very few social amenities available. Then, there was the toilet “situation”. I wasn't interested in pit-latrines so I had to poo in a nylon. I’m definitely bad at throwing things because on two occasions, it landed on someone’s roof instead of the bush! When it started smelling, I didn’t know how to act innocent and shocked. Thank God it rained. Showers of blessings, showers of blessings we plead. Mercy drops round us are falling, but for the showers we plead.
I loved teaching the children about Jesus, and teaching them songs. They were a joy to be with. There was this cute baby boy who always wanted me to carry him every time I met with the children. I won't forget his name in a hurry. Light. I pray he bears the true meaning of his name.
I came back home a week ago. Life has been interesting since my return. First, my dad finally agreed to lend me money for a course on interior designs. (That was after sounding it in my ears that I wasted his money reading English in school). He clearly doesn’t want me sitting at home all day. He’s also really worried about my obsession with God and zero love life after my breakup with Kene. Maybe it's because he doesn’t want me to be a nun?

“I’m reading from Zechariah 8 verse 2, New Century Version. This is what the Lord All-Powerful says, “I have a very strong love for Jerusalem. My strong love for her is like a fire burning in me.” In Kings James Version it says, Thus saith the LORD of hosts; I was jealous for Zion with great jealousy, and I was jealous for her with great fury.”
Stella, Eliana’s Bible study leader for that evening, raised her head before continuing, “Our topic tonight is the Jealous Lover, in line with what we have been discussing in our Love series.” She clasped her hands. “I love the passage we just read. It stood out to me, after praying for God to lead me on what to share tonight. I was brimming with excitement when different scriptures popped up in my spirit. So let me just go straight to it so we have time to discuss.”
“The word jealous usually has a negative meaning. It says in Galatians 5 that people harbouring jealousy in their lives can’t see the Kingdom of God. So you may think, why is God described with such a negative word? But that's not the case. Jealousy in this text, or in any text where it gives reference to God, simply means zealous. God is zealous over me. God is zealous over you. Do we follow?”
Eliana nodded along with others in the small group. The fatigue from earlier in the day had waned considerably; her body was still recovering from the village life. If it wasn't in such an intense atmosphere, where God's presence felt so tangible, she would have dozed off. She had missed the sessions during her missionary trip and was glad to be back. She had also missed Stella’s deep teachings.
“God is guarding us so intensely and closely that He doesn't want anyone to steal our hearts. Especially anyone who's not worth it. Zechariah 8 says God has a strong love for me, Stella. His love for me is like a fire burning in Him.” She paused briefly as she spoke in tongues and a few ladies shouted ‘Hallelujah’
“Sisters, that's pure love. That's true love. It's not the love this world has to offer. It's not the love my husband gives me, though he's working on becoming more like Christ every day. It's a love that just is. He loves you and I so much that He doesn't want us to be tainted. He loves us intensely and passionately. And you know what? He expects us to love the same way.”
On her way home, after the study, Eliana digested the lessons. She wondered how anyone could be like Paul and serve God so wholeheartedly in this day and age. How could a person be so passionately in love with Him? Eliana felt ashamed and guilty somewhat. For a while now, her thoughts were centered on how a man could love and care for her, amongst other things. It wasn't about how she would care for God, or how she would care for her future husband.
She was mostly thinking of herself.
Forgive me, Lord if I have been selfish. I love You, Lord. I adore You. My life is absolutely nothing without You. Two hours later, she was back at home. She took a quick inventory of her day’s activities. The highlight - her morning design classes which had been tasking but exhilarating. Eliana loved everything about it, anxiously waiting to put her skills to work. She closed her eyes, but in her heart and mind it was full of thanks to God. He was just too good to her.

CHAPTER THREE

Death always carried its own tune.
Femi dropped his phone and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He was exhausted from a long day of seeing patients. But he wasn't just physically tired, he was emotionally drained as well. He had lost a long time patient earlier in the morning. A ten year old boy with kidney problems. It had been hard watching the parents mourn the loss of their first-born. Femi had prayed everyday for the boy to be healed, or receive a kidney donor.
But there were complications.
God did it have to be this way? Couldn't something have been done?
[b]Rejoice in the Lord always... I say it again rejoice!
[/b]The scripture was soothing to his heart.
Yes, Lord. I praise You for You are the giver of life and nothing happens without You knowing about it. You are the Almighty. He knew James was resting in the bosom of the Lord. Yet, death was always painful. Even his history in the medical field couldn’t help him come to terms with its blow.
Could anyone?
Till date, his mother’s death was the most gripping experience in his life. She lost her cancer battle years ago. He wished she had lived long enough to see his kids. He felt bad and yet, he knew God's timing was best.
Yes, there were times he doubted God really cared, or was interested in him. Why was he still single after so long? Why was he all alone? Why didn’t he have a family? Despite his moments of uncertainty, God had shown Femi countless times He was faithful and enough for him. His siblings were married and had children of their own. All except one who had been waiting on God for the past three years. She was on a low and her husband's family was breathing down her neck. Occasionally, she had called to share her burdens with him. She had done tests that showed she was fertile but still, the waiting game continued. All they could do was wait on God.
There was an urgent knock on his door and he looked up as a nurse walked in, file in hand. “Good afternoon Sir. There's a patient here to see you. I know you're off duty now but she says it’s a really pressing issue.”
Femi signalled for her to come closer and collected the file from her. He read through. The patient had an abortion done last week, but there were complications. “Dr Kola’s supposed to handle this case. Alright, let her in but please no more patients. I'm heading out after I see her.”
“Yes Sir.”
A young woman walked in. Dressed in a polished navy blue pant suit, she appeared to be deeply troubled. “Good evening Sir.”
He glanced at his watch. “Good afternoon, Miss Ali.”
“Oh, I'm sorry.” She glanced at her fine leather-strapped watch as well and turned back to him, apologetic. “Just a lot of things going on. Good afternoon.”
He smiled. She also had a distinct accent. Femi guessed she was Fulani. “It's fine. Please, have a seat. What seems to be the problem?
“Well, I've noticed red spots in my urine which I assume is blood, but I would really love to be wrong.”
He opened the file and wrote a few things down. “Any burning sensations when you pass urine?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“What else?”
“Sometimes I have pains in my stomach. Serious pains.”
Femi nodded. “Can you show me where?”
She placed her hand on her pelvic region and he saw her wince.
“That's fine. It says here you had an abortion last week?”
“Yes.” He wasn't sure but he thought he heard her say she didn't have a choice. “I told Doctor Kola and I asked for painkillers to suppress the pain. I didn't think it would be anything serious.”
“Okay, were you tested for any sexual infection before or after the abortion? Have you ever had any sexually transmitted disease?”
Her eyes widened. “Sexual infection ke? No o. I didn't. I haven't had any STDs in my life. I just had the abortion done and that was it. Is there something wrong?”
“I can't say at the moment, but I'll need you to do a few tests to rule out some things. Is that okay by you?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Great. Don’t get yourself unnecessarily worked up. I'm sure you're already worried.”
She nodded. “I just hope there's no problem.”
He said softly, “Worry or fear doesn't make the problem go away.” He jotted a couple of things in her file. “Just meet the nurses and they will draw up blood. You can come back in three days for the result. I would advise you to abstain from any sexual activity within the next few days until this is sorted out.” He handed the file to her while she rose to her feet, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder. She seemed less flustered than when she arrived at his office minutes ago.
“Thank you very much Doctor - ?”
“Alakija. Femi Alakija.”
She gave an easy laugh, her smile, revealing beauty that caught Femi’s attention. “Really? Are you the owner of the hospital?”
Femi nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
She nodded, thanked him once more and left. He rose from his seat once she walked out.
Femi stretched. His back ached. His head hurt. He needed a hot meal, a warm bath and a cold bed. He also needed to see Peju. Lately, she seemed preoccupied. She was either really busy or avoiding him.
He prayed it was the former. But what if she really doesn't want to see me? He shook his head. Why would she be avoiding him? He knew she enjoyed herself on their date. He was just worrying over nothing.



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***

"Oba, thank you so much for coming to pick me," Nene said as she wore her seatbelt. "You're the best." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, not caring for the extra stares from the outside. He didn’t mind as well. Oba liked PDA, no matter where.
He also like what she had on, particularly the grey skirt that drew up to her slim thighs. All he wanted to do was take it off, her blouse too, and do crazy things to her as she screamed in appreciation.
His mind went into planning mode as he joined the traffic. Reaching his goal was tough considering all the obstacles to face. Traffic to Victoria Island was light but he knew it was going to take another thirty to forty minutes before they got to her house. Also, her parents were home. There was no use. He aborted his mission, his face sunken.
"How was your day with Timilehin? Were you able to rest?"
He shook his head. "No. We played basketball, went to eat, gisted… that’s about it.”
"Sounds like a typical guy day. And all set for tomorrow?”
“Yeah babe. Can’t wait.”
“Great. I wish I could follow you to Ibadan to see your parents.”
He knew as well as she that that was a lie. Nene had no problems with his father, but with his mother? That was another situation entirely. The two were like oil and water. Like Tom and Jerry. Like the Nigerian sun and an eskimo. They just could not get along.
Nene was innocent, as always. It was his mother's fault; the thought of him dating an Igbo girl, a bitter taste in her mouth.
“I also got some things for Mum. I hope she would like them.”
Oba spared a smile, and fixed his gaze back on the road. “That’s nice. Thank you, love.” Knowing Mrs. Afolayan, she would most likely give them to their house-girl.
“Again I ask, why do you want to marry this girl?”
He raised his brow, wondering if she was the one dating her, or he was. “Mummy, please let's not do this again. I like Nene.”
“Because she has big breasts and nyash?”
Oba almost choked on his bowl of garri. He looked at her, but her face was numb, like she said nothing out of the ordinary.
“No. I assure you.”
She snorted. “Tell that to yourself. You men are like that. Your eyes lead you first before your head.” She hissed and walked out of the parlour leaving him confused.
“Oba, did you hear me?”
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said you should let me know when you arrive tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
He couldn’t blame her. He was also worried about of his mother’s next move. For all he knew, she had a Yoruba woman ready for him at home.


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