He flung his phone across the couch and held his head within his palms.”Oh God. What have I done!”
His phone rang out and he grabbed it quickly without looking at the screen.
“Guy, calm down. Na Tunde dey talk.” (Relax, It is Tunde speaking.) Have you found out where Imade and the kids are?”
“No. She is not picking my calls. I don’t want to call her sister yet. But I am afraid. What if something happened to them?”
Tunde remained quiet for a bit. “Check her social media pages. Has she posted anything that may give her whereabouts away?”
“No. Imade is not a social media person actually. But I will check. I will chat you up.” Dipo ended the call.
“Oh God. I did this. Please help me fix it. Help Imade forgive me. I am sorry.” The prayers felt like he had tasted some powdered milk exposed to air. Everything started when he thought he could handle all of this himself.
His phone rang again. This time he looked at the screen. It was Tunde. He heaved a frustrated sigh. What was the problem this time around?
“Guuuyyyyyy. You need to go to Twitter right now. I sent you a link. It has the screenshot of a message sent to the dms of those bloggers that talk about realtime lifestyle and relationship issues.”
He walked into the bedroom and flung his tie across the bed.
He turned around to meet his five year son with a worried look on his face.
“DJ, what is the problem?” His son walked towards him and hugged his right leg tightly.
“Is Mommy dying?”
“God forbid. Why would you say such a thing?”
“She is sick. She cries all the time. You remember when Max was sick?”
“Mommy is like that. She throws up all the time.”
Tunde did not like what he was hearing. How come Imade did not tell him she was not feeling too well? He knew why. He had been avoiding her so she would not be able to tell that he was hiding something from him.
“Where is she?”
“In the kitchen. She said something in the food was making her sick.”
He took DJ’s hand. “Where is Max?”
“He is taking care of Mummy.” Tunde threw his head back and laughed. Imagine being taken care of by a three year old. He missed his family so much. Only if he had told Imade about the vasectomy three months ago.
He moved towards the kitchen. Max saw him and jumped off Imade’s laps. “Daddy!”
Imade rolled over to his side of the bed and kissed his chest.
He shook his head.
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
He knew his wife well enough to know what she really wanted. She rubbed his chest as she spoke.
“You know you can always talk to me. I may not understand the technicalities of your job but I still want to hear it.”
She raised herself up with her elbow. He kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. They might as well get it over with.
She fell asleep shortly after spooned against him. It’s been nearly three weeks since the procedure. Why could he not bring himself to tell her what he had done? Dipo had been really upset with him the last time they spoke.
“Why don’t you want to tell her? Explain the rationale for your decision the way you explained it to me. Simple!”
The other man spoke to him softly. “From my experience, men who usually come for this procedure have more or less made up their minds. But I cannot just shrug off the feeling that something is missing here.”
The other man cleared his throat. “It would really also help if you were not trying so hard to avoid making eye contact with myself.” He took a sigh and continued. “You are also awfully quiet. I can give you some time to think this over. I can move the procedure forward by another three weeks.”