I was about to open my ‘door’ when this cold breeze rained its hands over me, like someone removing the blanket that covered me. Not until then did I remember that we were on the lawn of Mayfair resort and lounge where we’d lodged to spend our anniversary together.
The long awaited harmattan was still in its early days. It had just arrived town a couple of days ago. We held hands and walked into our room, 127, third floor. Mayfair resort and lounge is one of the best in Ajah if not in Lagos as a whole. The queen size bed, heavy luxurious furniture, and an ambiance that sings lullaby to one’s ear confirms the hotel’s rating.
We made love that night. It was exacerbating, and spirit lifting. We put the fact that we need children at the back of our minds as we just felt each other. We flowed in the ocean of love like excited mermaids. Was I told that is the last I would ever have of my husband, my obong? (King)
The breaking of the day broke my eternal happiness. The day’s light quenched my last lamplight in the dark, leaving me stranded. The crowing of the cock turned to a euphonious dirge in my ears. The freshness of the morning chocked my everlasting joy.
Death never misses a dart. Straight into my heart did it stick its arrow.
“Honey” I said in a whispered.
I got up from the bed. Walked to toilet door adjacent the bed, and sat on the toilet sit. I recalled the night before, our marriage, our wedding, our first night together and all. I smiled, trying to fight nostalgia as it threatens to take the better part of me.
I walked back to the bed.
He didn’t respond. Still sleeping.
“I pray you don’t get carried away while sleeping, you just sleep to much.” I gently pat his right shoulder.
When he didn’t respond, I intensified the hitting.
“Davis!” I paused. My eyes swam from the left corner of the room to the right end. “Honey please stop this. Don’t start any of your pranks today. This isn’t funny no more!” I warned.
After sitting by his side for a few minutes, since waiting for him to get up turned futile, I decided to get a shower, when he sees that I am not bothered, he will get up.
I closed my eyes as the waters rained on me. Its coldness chilled my heart. I ran the bar soap through my body and a thought hit me.
My mother once told us a story of aunty Eno. Who thought her son was sleeping, when she left him for a three day journey with written instructions and money for feeding, only to come back from her sojourn and find her son’s lifeless body smelling.
I dashed out of the bathroom immediately. Cleaned my hand of the soap foam, and jumped on Davis to confirm his heart still beats.
“Abasi mbom! No no no, this is a dream, I rushed to feel the pulse of his left hand. “Jesus!!!”
I ran out of our room to the reception with a piece of towel covering half of my body, and soap foam covering the other half.
“My husband oh. My husband.” I cried as I ran down the stairs, jumping multiple cases at once like the actors of Hollywood movies do.
Part 3 comes soon…. Meanwhile, feel free to drop what you think of the story in the comment box below.