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Chapter 1: Once Upon A Crush
Chapter 2: It Must Have Been Love
Chapter 3: Could I, Would I, Should I
Chapter 4: Breakaway
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“Any ideas on what you plan on naming the baby?” I ask Feyi as we step out of the hospital and head toward her car. The Lagos sun is relentless, beating down on the parking lot, but the thought of the food flask filled with yam porridge and fish sauce waiting for me makes the heat more bearable. Only Feyi would think to surprise me like this. She figured I’d be too busy to grab proper food, and honestly, she’s right. I have about thirty minutes left before I’m back on my feet again, attending to patients.
“Well,” she begins as we reach the car and slide inside, the air-conditioning providing instant relief. “Fisayo was thinking Noah if it’s a boy.”
“And if it’s a girl?” I ask, already sensing the twist.
“Noah,” she says, her tone completely serious.
I pause, then burst into laughter. “What?”
She grins mischievously. “Noah is unisex, isn’t it? But to add a touch of Yoruba, we’d call her Fikayo. You know, keep it in the family of Fs.”
“You’re kidding,” I say, shaking my head, but I can’t help laughing.
“Why not? It’s practical and creative,” she teases, her eyes dancing with amusement.
“Practical, my foot. You just wanted to see my reaction.”
“And it was worth it!” She laughs, her face lighting up in that way that always makes me feel at ease. Moments like this remind me how much I love her.
I open the food flask she’s placed on the dashboard, the aroma of the yam porridge filling the car. It smells heavenly, the kind of smell that momentarily makes you forget all your stress. “Thanks for the food. You’re such a lifesaver.”
“Anytime, Mobaby.” She leans over and pinches my cheek playfully. “So, gist me. What’s new?”
I roll my eyes, scooping a generous portion of porridge onto the plate she handed me. “Aren’t you the one who owes me gist? You’re the one fresh back from the States. How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine, getting older but still as healthy as ever. Now stop deflecting. I want to hear about you. How are your suitors?”
“Sis, suitors bawo?” I almost choke on my laughter, shaking my head.
“My sister is a spec now. Of course, you’ll have suitors left, right, and center,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I know you’re using style to ask about Jide. He’s fine.”
“Just fine?” she probes, her grin wide and knowing.
“We’re supposed to meet for lunch this weekend,” I mumble through a mouthful of porridge. “Wow, this fish is delicious, sis Feyi.”
She leans back, watching me intently. “You don’t sound excited. What’s up?”
“I don’t know what to expect,” I admit, my voice softer now. “The last time we hung out was two months ago, and that was… okay, I guess. But it feels like there’s always some unspoken thing between us.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Well, fingers crossed. Jide is a good guy.”
I set my fork down, suddenly hesitant. “He mentioned he’s getting ordained next month, once he’s back from the UK.”
Her face lights up instantly, like a Cheshire cat who’s just caught the canary. “Ah! So you guys are talking about things that deep now?”
I shake my head, trying to downplay the moment, but my cheeks betray me with a slight flush. “Sis Feyi, don’t start.”
“What?” She raises her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, ordained? That’s serious.”
“It’s just a lunch,” I say firmly, picking up my fork again. But even as I take another bite, I can feel her eyes on me, her silent amusement filling the car like an unspoken challenge.
“It’s not a big deal, sis,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand.
Feyi, ever the maternal one, strokes her rounded belly with a tenderness that softens my heart. “Even if it’s crumbs, I’ll manage it. I like where this is going, though,” she says, a glow lighting up her face. “I can’t wait.”
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