¶ FIVE

...the heart can bleed for that which the mind doesn't detect...

When he was done in the shower, he dried himself and came out. He went to his wardrobe and found an underwear which he slipped on. He slid on a polo shirt next and finished it up with loose khaki pants. He undid the zip and did it one more time with a naughty smile on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The fastener was alright.

He slowly walked out of the room in delicious anticipation of having his wife. That was the reason he had double checked the zip. It would not go and do something like get stuck when he was in the heat of the moment. He laughed it off quietly and headed for the dining.

There was an eerie silence.

That was the reason that made him suddenly stop by the corridor, to listen. There was no noise. He approached the dining stealthily, like an experienced robber. He found no one there. He was at the verge of wondering where his wife could be when soft sobs reached into his alert ears. He knew that sound. She was crying once again.

She was in pain.

He began to head towards the kitchen but halted. What on earth was bugging her? Why on earth won't she share it with him? He pondered on this question again and again. He hated to hear her cry. He hated to hear her in pain. He did so because he would gladly bear the pain for her.

After all, they had started out with him doing just that, with his ankle broken and his head concussed. He remembered it clearly like yesterday how she had helped him up to his feet with him smiling like a love stricken fool -which he was, mind you. He had only noticed the pain in his leg when it had given way the moment he had set his weight on it. She had been quick to steady him.

'I think you twisted your ankle,' she had told him.

'Whatever you think is fine with me sugar,' he had said as he leaned against her.

'I think you have a concussion too,' she continued looking at him.

'Hmm sugar,' he had readily agreed. He recalled that he could think of nothing else but her.

'Here, you have to sit down.'

'I'm fine sugar, I'm perfectly fine,' he remembered assuring her.

'Yes I know that. But you still need to sit so I can look at you properly.'

'Ahh yes! Look at me all you want sugar. You can bare me of you have to. I am fine with it.'

'You really do have a concussion. You are spouting nonsense,' she had said with a sweet laugh that almost turned him on. He had been very happy to see her happy.

'I'm glad my nonsense is making you do a really mean Darbur herbal advertisement,' he had commented with a lazy smile.

'I'm glad you can laugh even when you are in pain.' Her reply had never left his head, even for once.

GLOSSARY

* Darbur herbal: A particular brand of toothpaste in Nigeria.