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“Dear God, please I want to be loved by my husband.”
Ade searched his drawer for papers to write on. He had forgotten to purchase a new one and he needed to print a quotation for a contract he was pursuing. He found none.
He decided to check Bisola’s room. He found some at her bedside drawer. As he turned to leave, he noticed a photo album, opened it and saw recent pictures of his last outing with the boys. He smiled lovingly at the photo.
Michael, who was Bisola’ nephew had moved in with them shortly after their wedding and there had been this immediate bond between him and Sean, his son, ever since despite the fact that Michael was two years older. The pair was inseparable, and Ade knew without a single doubt that despite their age differences, Sean had come to look up to Michael. They were such joy, always asking for more brothers to play with. But he’d told them that God would give them siblings at the appropriate time.
He wondered if Bisola had heard them because despites all the whinnying, Bisola had made said nothing. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was anxious that they were yet to have a baby together.
Perhaps, he should talk to her about it, he decided.
Setting the picture down in its place, he noticed a bottle of pills behind his picture frame. He read the prescription and turned livid.
How dared she do this without my consent? He flared.
Bisola wondered at lunch why her husband was in such a bad mood. It was not obvious to the children as they chattered away with him, but she could sense his animosity towards her. They had been in good terms before she went shopping. So what could she have done wrong?
She was surprised when her brother Rinde came to pick the boys for a visit her parents who lived not too far away.
“I asked him to come and pick them,” Ade answered her unasked question.
“Mom, can we ride on our bicycles to grandpa and grandma’s house?” Michael pleaded.
“If daddy thinks it’s ok.” she answered.
“Daddy, please can we?”
“Ok, but you both must use your helmets”
“Yippee,” they screamed and ran to pick the helmets in their playroom.
The moment they left, Ade walked briskly from the sitting room. Bisola wondered what to say to him when he returned.
“Ade, what is the problem?”
But before she could blink, he had thrown a bottle at her. It hit her on the chest. Bisola winced, rubbing the spot. ‘Why did you do that? What have I done?’
With a shaky finger, Ade pointed to the bottle lying on the floor and said: “That is what you have done?’
To be continued…
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