Twain Became One

CHAPTER 6: drowning

*******
Lagos, Nigeria.

October 2018.

"I can't just prescribe you sleeping drugs Chris. You have to give me something, anything" Doctor Moses waved his hands in the air for emphasis.

Chris sat slumped on the chair. He covered his face with his arm to shield him from the glare he was getting. His chest kept rising and failing in heavy pants like breathing was hard.

The huge ceiling fan rotating above created whirling sounds. The sound was the only thing jarring the uncomfortable silence in the room.

Dr Moses Ejeh has been Christopher's therapist since they moved to Lagos two years ago. He felt like they were making progress ever since Chris got married and had two beautiful children whom he loved more than life itself. Life was on track, before he ruined it like every other good thing.

A puckered shaped frown sat on Moses face. He thought they were making progress, thought they were way past the pills stage. "Speak to me man, help me help you." Moses entreated gently.

Chris head was pounding, his eyes ached from lack of sleep. Most importantly, his heart hurt. The events of the evening of the day before flooded back in:

*****
Like every other day since the whistleblower incident, Chris and his team were busy and even though he was at work at past six in the evening. He already told Pamela he'll be back late and she had even had a food tray delivered to the office for him.

Then his phone rang. His ringtone was her laugh, he had recorded it on of their play dates the ringtone was for her only. Pamela's laugh was usually so loud, like she swallowed a microphone. She would hold her knees and bawl over, eyes shining with mirth.

"Temi" he scruffed out gently and allowed the usual peace and tranquility her presence brought wash over him.

"Come home now!" she ordered.

He remembered trying hard to call her back but she wasn't picking up. With so much urgency he gave out instructions to his team and left.

Maybe it was the urgency in her voice or the fear and pain that made him pack up and drive like a madman home.

Or maybe it was because she had used one of the big guns. 'Come home now', 'we need to talk', 'I'm okay'. Those phrases usually meant so much.

Throughout the short drive all he could think about was worse case scenarios and the for someone with an active imagination the usual 'what ifs' flooded his every thought.

He didn't do anything, they were fine just this afternoon. So what was uppermost on his mind was maybe something was wrong with her.

The car was barely parked correctly when he jumped out "Mine, mine, Temi "  he shouted.

He looked ridiculous and frantic but he was truly scared and for someone who doesn't scare so easily it was a sight to see.

"In here," her voice came through and just like that, two words and his world steadied again.

All that he is revolves around the three of them. In his hurry he didnt notice the white Lexus jeep in the compound or the strange exotic perfume that hit his nose as he walked in.

Pamela was in a blue yoga pants and stretchy black top that fell off one side of her shoulder exposing her smooth brown skin.  Her face was bare of makeup and  her hair was in its signature high bun.

He looked around where she was to figure out what was wrong. Pamela was sitting on the last stair with the child protection gate they put at the bottom of the stair wide open. She had a half filled glass of water in her hand, that she was staring into instead if drinking.