1
The shutters are closed, and the living room is lit by wireless night light sensor lamps, ornately arranged on the background of the tv console; creating a solemn ambiance. The dining area of the spacious 2-bedroom apartment is brightened by a modern LED ceiling-down lamp. Wole and Toun are cuddled up on the sofa, watching tv; with the volume turned down. He is fiddling with her hair, absent-mindedly. “Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all; what hast thou then more than thou hadst before? All mine was thine before thou hadst this more. Then if for my love thou my love receivest, I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest...” She interrupts his oration, “are you reciting Shakespeare to me right now?” He giggled, “I'm saying soothing words to your ears, tell me you are not feeling it?” She sibilates with mock scorn, and pulled his arms closer around her neck, “Yoruba men will forever be goated in hell. Demons for a reason.” Her sarcasm took him by surprise, “ah, Toun!” he pretends to be choking her in retaliation. “Oya kill me for saying the truth na,” she squeals as they got entwined.
Wole stopped when he heard a knock on the door. He tried to disentangle himself, but Toun kept her legs locked around his. “There’s someone at the door babe,” he said, almost out of breath. “Let him or her wait,” she gave a smug smile that widen her lips, and he bursts into laughter. Wole managed to free himself from her grip when the knock persisted. He got up, flicked a switch, and an acrylic wall light in warm blue and white colors shone through square boxes on the wall. When he opened the door, his friends Papa and Collins walked in. “Oh, love in Tokyo was in full bloom…na why you no quick open door,” Papa had a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back. “This one is made in Lagos o! How far!” he extends a handshake to his friends, starting with Collins who kept a thin smile on his face. “Hi, Toun,” Collins said calmly and sat down on the nearest sofa. “Our wife, how are you doing na!” Papa said with a wave of his hand. Toun smiled sweetly, “hi, guys! Welcome.”
Wole takes his seat by Toun, placing her leg on his lap; sitting across from his friends. Collins gets busy on his phone. “How far, na!” Wole asked them casually. Toun moves closer to her man, wraps her arms around him, and rests her head on his shoulder. “You two can’t get enough of each other,” Collins smiled, as he drops his phone on the stool by the side of the sofa. “At this point, they are obsessed with each other. The only reason we don't see this guy again, is because he's in love,” Papa guffawed at his joke. Toun looked at him from the corner of her eyes with spite. She rests her head back in position, resolute in her will to keep her cool at all times. Collins saw her countenance change, and decide to pitch in the discussion before Papa’s carefree attitude strip them of the little strand of dignity they have left. He always knew he was not skeptical about her cold shoulders whenever they all paid a customary visit to watch or play a game. They kept their hangouts away from home turf recently since the incident that happened with one of their friends; who came to drop a file for Wole, on his account that she was at his apartment only for her to pretend not to hear someone pound on the door for almost 5 minutes. They’ve not been able to convince the poor lad to come this way ever since.
“If Muhammad won't go to the mountain, the mountain will come to Muhammad. We were passing by and thought to say hello,” Collins cut in as Wole prepared to reply Papa, knowing full well those two are banter buddies. “Hi!” Wole smiled. “Bomb dey your head, guy!” Collin nods, and the three friends laugh. Toun starts to scribble on a leather-bound book she produced from beneath the throw pillows they’ve been resting their heads on; shutting the boys out of her thoughts. Collins stretched his leg uncomfortably, desperate to catch Toun’s famous attitude upfront before they leave, “we don’t plan to stay long. We are supposed to breeze in and breeze out…” “You go show for club this weekend?” Papa cuts in with his brows lowered, giving Wole a skeptical look. “I don't know yet,” he shrugs. “I thought as much…” Papa nods as if he was expecting that answer. “No wahala, we understand. We'll be on our way now,” Collins shot to his feet before Toun or Wole take offense to his words. “Oya now! We go talk,” Papa extends his hand to Wole as he got up. They all shake hands. He looks in Toun’s direction, “our wife, take care of yourself for us o.” Collins glanced back at her as he headed for the door, and quickly reiterated what Papa said, “yes o. Wole take care of her o.” Their voice broke through her reverie, and she gave a courteous smile; wan and devoid of soul. “Who will take care of me? No be person born me?” Wole asked jokingly. Papa remarked that he was on his own. “Thanks a lot, bye!” she forced a smile at their backs, relieved they are gone.
Wole walks them out; walking with a lopsided gait. He shuts the door and rejoins Toun. She carefully replaced the book before he got back, and rests her arm on the pillow. “Are you okay?” he asks, examining her mien. “Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'm going to take a nap,’ she covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawns. “Well, let's nap together.” She smiled, ‘he never takes a break from being sweet,’ she thought and gets up. He holds her waist as they move to the bedroom. She heads straight to the window to pull down the heavy curtains. The room immediately became dark. She lays down on the bed while he sits by her side, “it's almost time to take your meds,” he rubs her hand gently. “Yeah!” she drawled but remained still, and after a while, she dozed off. He joins her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He lay there listening to her breathe softly, as he feels his consciousness ebbing away.
2
“Babe, how about Cape Verde or SA?” Wole asks from inside the bathroom. Toun is seated on the bed, her legs folded beneath her; lost in her thoughts. She stares at the leather-bound book; with a scowl on her face. She is casually dressed, wearing a t-shirt paired with mom jeans. She hid the book under the pillow quickly, as he came out of the bathroom. He repeats his question, running his hands over his hair in an aggressive motion. “Hmm!” she looks up at him, wearing a blank expression. She is trying to navigate an impossible maze here, how she feels about a vacation is the least of her worries. She needs to figure out a plan, before making her second exit equally painful. “Babe, you are not taking this vacation thing seriously,” he sighed. “I wish I share your enthusiasm, my love. My health just doesn't make me stoked about traveling as I used to,” her shoulders hung low. She rests her back on the pillow and watched him get dressed. She feels the darkness envelop her gradually, and she knows she has to move fast before chaos ensues for everybody. “It's just dermaheliosis. It's not one of those rare skin conditions. What if you were not working remotely, and you need to report to work daily, what would you do then? You can't keep locking yourself indoors. You do know you need the sun for vitamin D right? I keep telling you at least a 10-15 minutes walk outdoors is great for general well-being,” he grabs his leather wristwatch off the dressing table, taking glances at her while he spoke. “Okay doc, I hear you. It's just dermaheliosis,” she mimics him; making air quotes. “I have the condition of a vampire and it's just dermaheliosis. Is it until I'm allergic to garlic before you stop dismissing my condition?” she chastises him with disgust in her voice but she looks at him with pain in her eyes. She is about to hurt him. Whatever decision she eventually makes is going to end up ripping his heart, she might as well just do it.
“Again, you are being negative by referring to it as a condition. You know what…I'm sorry. We are taking that vacation, by the way. It will be good for you. We'll talk about it when I get back. I have to get to the car wash and I'll branch at the market to pick up the items on that list. Where is it?” he looks around for something he seems to have kept on the table. “What?” she asked. “The list.” He replied, still glancing around. She got her opening to pitch the little idea that crept up her mind a few seconds ago. “Let me go to the market. You can go ahead to the car wash,” she informed him. He was taken by surprise that she suddenly desires to go grocery shopping when he had only tried to convince her barely two minutes ago. He raised his hand in protest, “when I said you need the sun, I didn't mean an overdose of it. Let me do the shopping.” She shifts to the edge of the bed, placing a foot on the bedside rug, and the other remained folded, trying to look relaxed like what she just said is not a big deal to the dynamics of the life they had lived in the past two years they’ve been together. “No, you're right. I'll be fine. I insist,” she added defiantly. He sighs, “Okay, let me drop you on the way,” he offered but she turns down his benevolence. “I still have things to do before I head out. Don't worry about me.”
“You are taking this sun business seriously o. Use an umbrella, please,” he told her as he leaves the room. She waits to hear him shut the door and waits for a while before moving to the window that overlooks the shared garage of their apartment building to watch him drive off. After confirming he is gone, she pulled the curtains back. She takes a long look at the room they shared, and an overwhelming sadness fills her as memories come flooding in. She gasps and exhales loudly. She heads to the shoe shelf to pick up a black suede flats, and without taking another look, she hurried out of the room; leaving her purse, mobile phone, and bag on the bed.
... to be continued