ANOTHER MORNING

Loving or leaving

"Good afternoon ma'am" Gbenga managed to say as she walked past him and into the car. He closed the door, got into the driver's seat and let the car roll out the gate. He found himself stealing glances at her from the rearview mirror. His mind was racing, this was the counsellor in his space, the drive to Aba was a little over two hours if the bad roads, police checkpoints and traffic was counted. He wondered what would happen if he re-routed and took her to his apartment to see his wife for a few minutes. He didn't mind her not paying him for this ride, he wanted her to see his wife. 

He looked at her from the rearview mirror one more time and decided to ask her if she would mind, he knew it was wrong and unprofessional but that wasn't what was on his mind at the moment. He had to try all he could. 

Gbenga opened his mouth but his throat suddenly became dry, the words couldn't come out. Mrs Chioma's phone rang, it was a short call, more like a reminder to join a meeting that had already started.  

She joined the zoom call where she apparently was a guest speaker. Gbenga decided, his request would have to wait. His right hand was on the steering wheel, while his left fiddled with his left pocket to quietly take out his phone which he slid under his leg and tried dialling the house again.

Teniola came to, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, the bleeding had reduced but she had already lost enough and was dizzy. She heard the phone ring and tried crawling out the kitchen, leaving a trail of blood behind her. She managed to get to the kitchen door but she was too tired to go any further. She closed her eyes and lay back on the floor. The tears found their way back to her eyes. 

Gbenga was getting concerned that she wasn't taking her calls. He knew she was usually a bit disoriented, but most times, she managed to pick the call, which he immediately ended. It was either that or he spends 15 minutes trying to explain on the phone that he was her husband. He resolved that picking the call was enough evidence for him that she was okay. 

He tried to tell himself that she was sleeping, yet couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. He observed his passenger from the rearview mirror and saw she was really into her meeting, explaining how a person can endanger their well-being by taxing or exceeding his or her resources in their relationship between them and their environment, leading to psychological stress. Gbenga once again found himself wondering why she chose to live in Portharcourt.

"How much longer before we get to Aba?" Mrs Chioma asked soon as her meeting ended.  

"In less than an hour madam, we've beaten most of the traffic" Gbenga replied, his eyes fastened on the road. 

He looked at the rearview mirror, Mrs Chioma was even more beautiful in person than in her Youtube videos. This was his chance to bring up the subject of his wife, they were stuck in this car for the next 1 hour, she either listens to him or listens to him, he thought. He took a deep breath.

"Sorry madam, I don't usually do this but-" he started to say but looked at the rearview mirror one more time to see her sound asleep. He felt both relieved and disappointed in himself at the same time. The rest of the journey was smooth and quiet. 

"Madam, we're here," Gbenga announced as he drove in through one of Aba's biggest markets. A wave of nostalgia hit him, it had been years since he visited home. Both his parents were dead and he had absolutely nothing to bring him back here. It was always strange that he was Yoruba but always had to explain to people that Aba was his hometown. 

It wasn't until his final years in secondary school that he found out his dad loved his mum so much that he alienated himself from his family and ran to be with his wife in the east, who he married without his family's consent. Gbenga was the result of that love story, sadly the only child his parents had. 

He spent most of his life trading with his parents at the Ariara Main Market, selling drinks in wholesale and retail. It was the only life he was used to, it was the life that trained him in the University of Portharcourt, where he studied Management, finished with a first-class and fell in love with the SUG president of his time, the pretty young outspoken energetic Teniola. She always teased him and called him an "Aba boy," he actually didn't mind. He found himself smiling as he reminisced. 

"How much longer till we reach the venue?" Mrs Chioma asked.

"It's actually just a few blocks from here, 10 minutes tops," he replied and watched her relax and touch up her lipstick. He wondered why she bothered, she was a perfect 10, a mother of three and the definition of HOT.

Gbenga pulled into the event centre and ran to the back to get the door for her. 

"Thank you, Mr..." she started to say.

"Gbenga. Gbenga Rotimi," 

"Thank you, Mr Gbenga, you can come in and listen if you don't mind. I wouldn't want you sitting here all by yourself. You could pick up a thing or two," she said.

"Thank you madam," he said as the ushers guided Mrs Chioma into the hall. 

Gbenga still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong at his apartment. He took out his phone and dialled his wife. 

The phone rang till the battery drained. 

He tried calling for the 7th time and it was not reachable. Gbenga started to panic. He prayed that the meeting would end in the next 2 hours as scheduled. He couldn't go in, not with his mind racing. He wound down the windows in the car, sat inside and drowned in his thoughts.

Teniola lay confused on the floor, her skin had signs of pallor, she was weak, sweating and crying.