Jumoke

9: A step closer

Jumoke

THINGS FELL APART immediately the doctor informed me that there was a man by the name of Emeka, claiming to be my husband and he wanted to take me home.

"Errr, yes . . . L-let him in," I stuttered out.

Dr. Luscious cast me a furtive glance, his eyes asking what his lips couldn't. I didn't want Tokunbo to have the wrong impression about my marriage, so, I gave a small nod which he took as a sign to call Emeka in. Tokunbo and I had spent the last few minutes chatting endlessly about our lives before marriage, the boys we had crushes on back then and where they probably were at this point. The conversation was kept light to lift the dreary mood the room had taken after my interrogations.

Tokunbo gave my trembling hands a small squeeze, her face was blank which made it difficult to decipher what she was thinking but her action reassured me nevertheless, adding to the many reasons why I had to go ahead with my mental decision to assist.

I was declared free to leave the hospital a few minutes ago with written instructions and medications to ease the slight discomfort I felt occasionally. And the only reason we were both still here was that our carriage, Kunle was yet to arrive; they offered to take me to their house first, get my kids and then drop me back off at the duplex, an offer I graciously accepted.

Emeka was not meant to return until a week's time, so the doctor's announcement made me panic; not only was it sudden but it could be catastrophic if he set his eyes on Kunle. Tokunbo must have sensed my worry because she dialed a number I assumed was Kunle's, sighing in frustration when it rang uninterruptedly.

The door creaked open and a head poked in, it was Kunle's.

"Hey! I was calling you," her eyes twinkled as he walked further into the room, her hand outstretched for him to take it. He was wearing the same outfit as she was, a maroon coloured shirt paired with white trousers, something I never noticed until now.

"I was driving," that was the only answer he gave and it must have been enough because no further questions were asked, just their fingers intertwined as they stared into each other's eyes, forgetting all about me.

Their open admiration was lost to me as I struggled to find words to ask them both to leave before Emeka arrived; his insecurities had gotten the best of him once when he saw me in the company of a guy and I wasn't prepared for a repeat of that incident. The door opened again and a knot lodged in my throat at the new presence; it was Emeka and he looked all manners of wealthy in his navy-blue senator wear, red traditional cap with white coral beads adorning his neck.

His eyes scanned the entire length of the room until they settled on me, the smile on his lips disappearing when he realized we were not alone. I couldn't help but compare the two men in the room, one of them, a youth in his prime with an even more youthful wife that had her arms wrapped around his waist while the other looked the image of an unhappy sugar daddy.

"Boobae, I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier." I winced at his infamous nickname for me, already sensing his displeasure at our guests as his fingers massaged my shoulder gently. Without being told, I knew we were going to have a shouting match about them once we got some privacy and the whole of me dreaded that moment.

Standing in close proximity with me, the two decades age difference between us was obvious, making it even more embarrassing for me to introduce him to Kunle and his wife.

"Hi! I'm Emeka, Jumoke's husband." He must have noticed the shame in my eyes, the subtle avoidance of his gaze, hence he did the introductions himself; the emphasis on his last word rang loud and clear, like some sort of warning.

"Kunle." Gesturing with his eyes and a peck to Tokunbo's cheek, "and this is my wife, Adetokunbo. We were about leaving."

With a small smile directed at me, the couple walked hand in hand out of the room, leaving me alone to face the wrath of a simmering Husband. I was thankful they didn't mention the kids or it would have set Emeka off but it meant I had to go get them myself and I was willing to do that so long it provided me some time away from him.

"I don't like him and I don't want you around him."

**********

Franklin and I were seated in the living room with a mini cooler fridge in between us; it contained a small amount of breast milk. A quick research on Polycystic ovarian syndrome showed that those women who suffered from it could also experience low production of breastmilk. That sealed my decision to help and though I knew it wouldn't take away the pain I caused Kunle in the past, it could go a long way for his baby.

Tokunbo had refused at first but I wouldn't take no for an answer. Arinola was just four months old and no matter how much she denied the extra help, I knew it was a struggle for her. Besides, previous deliveries already left me informed about the benefits of exclusive breastfeeding and I wasn't about to let pride stop a baby from getting the nutrients my body was so willing to produce.

"I weigh 75kg now," I muttered to Franklin who received the news with joy, jumping up to perform an awkward dance move that involved him placing one foot in front of the other, snapping his fingers and ending it all with a twirl.

A month into our walking routine, we decided to switch things up by jogging and getting me registered at a gym. One month after and I was looking close to how I did after the delivery of Ada.

He raised his hand up for a high five and my palm connected loudly with his; I was slowly but definitely getting through my list.

"Alright . . . I have to go now," Franklin said some minutes after our laughter had quieted down. "Travel safe."

I nodded with a smile, watching as he sauntered out with the cooler in his hands. That was the last batch of breast milk and he was having them delivered to Kunle. Somehow, all four of us had formed the oddest of friendship and it was their persuasion that spurred my decision to go on a weekend trip to Obudu Cattle ranch, to have that honeymoon Emeka never gave me.

Sparing a glance at the mirror in the parlour, I was taken aback at the woman who stared back at me. Her hair was in neat cornrows, her waist trimmed down; the flabby skin on her arms had been replaced with firm muscles and the new gown that Tokunbo gifted her helped to snatch her waist, creating a faux image of an hourglass shape. She looked slightly happy and it explained why Emeka was spending more time at home than he had done in their seven and half years of marriage. 

My chest brimmed with joy at this improvement and it was with a skip in my steps that I rushed to pack the remaining items for my travel.