AMADI

Immediately she steps out of my office, I pick up my phone to call the parrot, aka Miriam.

"Yo, couz!" She says in excitement.

"Don't 'Yo, couz' me. What did you tell my mom?" She hisses at my unexpected attack. I choose to be direct at this confrontation and not beat around the bush.

"Is that the reason why you called me?" She asks, the enthusiasm in her voice drops.

"Yes."

Sweetie, who is that taking up my baby's time? I hear her chuckle at him before her countenance switches again when she replies me.

"Then you have time to waste. Bye bye. Love ya stubborn and stupid self." She ends the call.

Why did I even allow her stay in my house? So, here's the deal with Miriam.

First of all, she is married. Arranged marriage two years ago. So, the thing is, over the past few months prior to when she came to my house, they began building their relationship with each other but then, her boyfriend before she married him came back into the picture and wanted to work things out. The relationship she had built with her husband suddenly became rocky again. She was confused about what to do and her husband was furious. So she ran away and came to my place in the disguise of coming for a job training.

Lol. She told me this on the day she came back from the club, wasted and in tears. She was a drunken mess. She doesn't know I know this story, though since she said it under the influence of alcohol. She thinks all I know is just the obvious arranged marriage part which the whole family knows too.

You see, Miriam is a rebel. A full fledged rebel. Her parents arranged the marriage in their own sick and twisted attempt at taming her. I guess it worked. From all indications right now, she's totally in love with her husband and the way his eyes shone the day he came to pick her at my place, that's a man in love with his woman. The way he kissed her on her forehead. So delicate. I had never seen Miriam act so childish before.

The door opens again, revealing mom's stern face. The 'don't mess with me' facial expression. Mom is an angel. A sweet angel with a feiry side when there's a need to activate it. To be honest, it is scary somethings. Growing up, I dreaded being on her bad side.

"You know what to do." She states. I sigh. Never did I think I'll be explaining this to her today. I would have ar least prepared for it. Now, my head is a mess. Damn you, Miriam!

"Yes, it is true Shalewa is pregnant with my child." I finally voice out.

"And?"

"And we are not on talking terms." I say.

"Why?"

"Because she moved out of the estate." I shrug.

"What prompted her to do so?" She asks me.

"Before you even answer that, what did you do, Amadi?" Chill, why is everyone making this look like it's my fault? I am not the one who killed a child.

"We had a very huge misunderstanding." I state, leaning in my chair.

"One that translated into that? You better get things right. This is not Nnenna." I roll my eyes at her last comment.

"I told her to give me full rights over the child when she gives birth." I find it hard to tell mom about the abortion. Shalewa should be thankful I am still preserving her image before mom. Also, from the way mom is asking questions, it seems Miriam just gave her the highlights. At least, she did not totally ratt me out.

"Were you sick when you suggested that? How do you tell a mother to part ways with her child, Amadi? Do you think nine months is a joke?" Mom is pacing around my office now, obviously angry.

"You won't understand." I mumble and she halts in her tracks to look at me sharply, sending an icy glare my way.

"Do you even know what you're saying?" She fires back.

"Trust me, I do." I state calmly.

"Fix this, Amadi. I didn't raise an irresponsible man." Ouch. Irresponsible? I'm the one wronged in all these. Not Shalewa.

What mom doesn't know is that I'll be seeing her tonight. So, instead of giving a verbal response, I just nod my head.

•••••

Other kids were in attendance so it was not weird to have Kaima also come over. The Center already employed the services of baby sitters for the kids this evening. That way, everyone is free to mingle with one another.

The resounding clap from others is what drives my thoughts to a halt at the podium.

Damn!

I felt my pants twitch, making me a little sweaty in an Air-conned room.

I allow my gaze sweep through her figure. Her skin shone brighter now as she carefully takes her seat. Her hair is packed in a neat bun and she has light make up on her face. The loose dress she has on still looks perfect. Her bump is bigger now and it looks so good on her. All in all, she looks beautiful and I won't deny the breath taking effect seeing her after months had on me.

If there's one peculiar thing about Nigerian society, it is shaming single mothers most especially for the reason that the father of the child is not in the picture. In her case, these people don't carry such aura around them. Instead, they have come to share her joy with her. I am glad that they have come to also show love and care for her baby.

Her baby. My baby. Our baby.

I wonder what would have happened if she hadn't changed apartment or therapy class.

Our gazes meet and I give her a sarcastic smirk, not forgetting to add a glare for extra effect.

She just shrugs her shoulders and turns to smile at the person who just introduced her. Uncaring. The event starts proper and some times, I hear her chuckle at something or a compliment someone says to her.

Yeah, I pay attention to everything she does, watching her like a hawk when she's not looking.

"I wonder whose favour you had to indulge to get this thrown for you." I say when I finally summon up the needed courage to face this woman.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm simply saying you're not worth all these..." I pause as I make a hand gesture round the room. "These... the love...the friendship...the care...you're not worth any of them, Shalewa." I sneer, my blood already riling up as I look at her.

"Alright." She answers simply, walking away. Normal Shalewa would have given a sharp come back but she just allowed it slide? What's happening? Is she dying? Does she have a grave ailment? Well, whatever it is, she better give birth to my son.

Yes. A son! I was stunned when the revelation was made about the baby's gender. Although, boy or girl, children are important and value should be placed on them irrespective of gender.

"Come here." I yank her hand, forcing her to turn, now facing me.

"Ahh." She bends in pain, touching her protruding belly. I immediately cover her hands with mine and she smacks my hands off it. This is the closest my hand has come with her stomach. This is the closest I have to come to having a feel of my child!

I don't hate the baby. God knows I don't. I can never have ill feelings towards my offspring. I can't say about the mother, though.

Do I just forgive her and talk it out?

"Please leave me alone, Amadi. Bye." Not even sparing me a glance after she spoke, she walks out.

Her eyes looked shallow when she spoke to me and they were void of emotions. They weren't always like that.

Did I really blow it way above proportion?

Now that I see her again today with my child, looking all radiant and talking to her for the first time in a long while, there's a question nagging in my head now that I think about it.

What the hell did I do?

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SHALEWA

The first thing that comes to my head when I see Amadi is 'what the hell is he doing here?' and then I remember that since it's the Centre hosting the baby shower, he was bound to get an invite to the event.

Feeling comfortable is out of the picture and even though I laughed when spoken to, it was just to ease the growing tension in me. I knew he was looking at me. The piercing gaze I felt on my skin made my insides crawl. A feeling only him could be responsible for.

After that ugly conversation I just had with him, I excuse myself from the hall, leaving everyone else to enjoy.

Rounding uo the corner that leads to another room where there's no one, I hear the familuar voice of a child call my name.

"Aunty Shasha!" She yells and I smile before turning to confirm my thoughts.

"Hey, sweetie." I coo. She wraps her hand around pmy legs. I see that she's accompanied by one of the baby sitters.

Her hand moves up to my stomach and she rubs it innocently. My eyes sting. Big sister duties.

"Aunty Shasha. I missed you." She says in her sharp tone, looking at me.

"Aww, baby." I bend a little to pick her up, showering kisses on her face like I usually do.

"When are you coming back?" She asks.

"I don't know, baby. I'll pay you a visit soon." I state, even though I know the chances of visiting her soon is so slim. Slimmer than a thread. Hope shines in her eyes when I say that.

"Is Aunty Shasha pweggnant?" I want to throw my head back in laughter at her mispronunciation but decide not to. Instead, I tap on her nose playfully.

"Yes, dear." I kiss her on the forehead and get her back on her feet.

"I have to go, dear." Her inquisitive eyes held alot of questions and I didn't want to be asked any of them. With the way children blurt out things without an inkling of the implication, I'd rather avoid it because I don't want to have to lie to her. I won't be happy about it.

It's not that deep. My inner thoughts say.

SNEAK PEAK ON NEXT CHAPTER (or not)🤣.

"I say, get him out!" I insist, breathing hard.

"Sir, you have to leave."