BUKOLA

Exhausted. It's what describes the exact way I feel when I get home that night. Hell, it was even later than Aminu's arrival.

"Hey." I state in a low voice, watching the man who had surreptitiously crept his way inside my heart.

"What's up? Titi told me you went out." He spreads his arms apart and I let my guard down by first pulling off my wig from my hair to welcome his warm embrace.

Dispirited, I drag my feet to where he is and hug him, his hand immediately snaking to cover my frame, pulling me in.

"I am tired of everything, Aminu." The loud sigh that escapes my lips is enough to tell how dampened my mood is.

"You know you can tell me whatever it is that is bothering you." He states with a shrug.

"How? When I hardly even know stuff about you." I point out.

"Fair enough, but you have to stop fighting it, Bukola. We will grow in this together. To do that, we need to put in the efforts. It's what I have been trying to do, but you just don't seem to want it." When he pulls us apart to look into my eyes, I could swear it looked like he was making a vow to me. My heart aches at his declaration. While his hand gently strokes my back, I snuggle deeper into his embrace. It's so comfy.

Suddenly, he sweeps me off my feet. His scent; it's like I'm floating on clouded skies. He sits down and places me on his laps, my front frame facing him.

"So, tell me. What are you tired of?" He asks.

"Everything." I tell him.

"We have all evening." He points out and I heave a sigh. The man wants to actually listen to my problems. Damn, girl, what have you done?

"The most important reason I got married to you. Aminu, in as much as I didn't want my friends knowing of my status as a stripper, the main reason I agreed to marry you was because you had found out about Jide."

"I got pregnant at 15, which was a very young age. Being a child that grew up in the Barracks, I was very carefree. I won't say I didn't know what I was doing, even though I was underage. He was 21 at that time and honestly, the love of my life. Or so I thought." I let out a sigh before taking a peek at his hardened face. He makes a gesture, urging me to go on.

"So, when I got pregnant, he flipped. He did not like using protection and expected me to take the pills instead. It messed with my whole system but because of my love for him, I kept enduring. I was wild; his parents were rich and I already saw myself getting married to him. Then one day, I missed my period. I was so sure of the sure of pills I was taking. So, imagine my shock when it happened." I let out a loud sigh, reliving those days like it just happened.

"Are you sure you can continue this?" Concern laces his voice.

"Yes, Aminu. Please, I need to." I want to get it off my chest.

"His father was a Major General and mine had not even gotten far in the Military. He was just starting to enjoy a few benefits of being an officer. The family could not stomach the fact that their son had put another man's child in a family way."

"So when they brought in a sum of 5 million Naira suggesting abortion and silence, my dad took it. I was so scared, but he told me not to worry. Daddy promised to keep me safe and keep me safe he did."

"Throughout the period of my pregnancy, I was in a convent, hiding from the world. I missed out on two years of school, healing and getting balance. After I had given birth, daddy left the army and we moved to another part of town. Seeing as we moved to a new environment with a baby, most people assumed him to be my mom's son. I was happy because where do I start explaining myself from?" My lips tremble while I say this. While Aminu listens, he continues to gently stroke my back.

"Farida and Tamara don't know Jide is my son. They don't know that secret of mine. Nobody asides the nuns, my dad and mom knew of the situations surrounding his existence. That time I spent in the convent, coupled with pregnancy, it changed my perception about life."

"I'm surprised the girls know nothing about it." He states.

"Contrary to what it might look like, they both got into my life at a much later time. When I had healed, daddy sent me to QC; it is where I meet them."

"I still could not believe he would take me to a school that was one of the most sought after schools. I wept bitterly the day he paid my fees. Even with the fact that things were not so good and mum already wrote me off, he did not relegate me to being useless." My dad had been for me through and through. He constantly gave me the push and motivation whenever I need it. He kept blaming himself for my poor choices. He said he failed to protect me as a father.

"It was in those trying times that I met Farida and Tee. It's actually funny how we met." A light chuckle escapes my lips and I watch him try to smile a little.

"We were in houses with similar colors of house-wear under the light. Red and Orange." A smile curves a little when I recall Obong girls and days of being a senior girl in quadrangle.

"A senior had tried sending us on an errand and called out 'Obong girl'. Seeing as I was the only one who it applied to, I ran. To my utmost surprise, they did the same too, and tried shielding me. We came out breathing hard after almost ten minutes of hiding. That was the day I met my soul sisters." It's a wonder we were never caught. God really did have his plans for all three of us.

"I honestly did not know any way to tell them about it. So, imagine my shock when you slapped me with that file containing the very information I had tried to conceal for years." My eyes meet his. Nothing prepares me for the mix of emotions they would carry.

By the time I am done narrating the story of my life to him, all that is left within me is a cold, distant feeling.

"First of all, he was an asshole for doing that to you. For lack of a better word, that was child abuse, Bukola. Whether or not you were perceived to know what you were doing, it does not change the face that you were underage with a good 6 years gap in-between." He is seething in anger.

"Secondly, I am so sorry. I could give you a divorce, honestly. It still won't stop me from still sending your weekly upkeep. You still get to keep your job." He rambles uncontrollably.

"Aminu, calm down." I tell him.

"Calm down? No child deserves the tough things you went through as a child. It was totally unfair." I gently rub his arm for him to be calm. It works. His uneven sound of his breath starts to normalize a little.

"You know, I used to have a twin." I blurt out.

He stands up with me in his arms. I wrap my legs firmly around him and he walks to the kitchen. He drops me on the counter before reaching out to one of the cabinets to get a cup. I watch him rinse the cup thoroughly before filling it with water from the dispenser.

"Used to?" He asks with raised brows, handing a cup to me. He retrieves another one to get water gor himself.

"Yes. She's dead." I lie. Almost immediately, I empty the contents of the cup down my parched throat.

"Do you mind sharing how?" He asks me. While at this, he places a container of food in the microwave for heating and turns back to give me his full attention.

"It's a very painful memory. I don't want to talk about it." I shrug and he just nods.

"It's okay. That's a lot for the day." He smiles a little before speaking again.

"Do you ever intend to tell Jide that you birthed him? Or to tell the girls about this part of your life? Hell, it must hurt to heat him call you Aunty or Big Sis every time. I'm so sorry, Bukola." It really does hurt.

"I am not sure I have the courage to, Aminu. I really don't know." My once calm demeanour is soon disrupted as my body starts to quiver. The tears begin forming and as a tear slips down, Aminu curses. He grabs a tissue roll and wipes my tears.

"Thank you so much for sharing this with me." He moves to give me a peck on my forehead before a hug follows.

The beep of the microwave disrupts the moment. He quietly slips off my hold to get us cutlery. He doesn't dish the food. Instead, he brings the whole pack and places it just beside me on the counter.

After handing me a spoon, he grins like he just did magic.

"Now, eat." I bite the bottom part of my lips, not in the mood to eat.

"Start eating or I'll have to feed you."

"Feed me, mister." I play back.

"Gladly." And like that, his spoon containing food is gently shoved in my mouth.

AN:
.//poor Aminu//.