by Kiru Taye
“Happy Valentine’s day, Felix. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. Please forgive me.”
As she spoke, tears pooled in her eyes, inciting a sudden need to take her in his arms and soothe her fears. Berating himself, he stiffened his body instead.
What is she playing at?
Angry at himself for responding to her, he withdrew his hand from hers. He missed her soft skin.
Her eyes widened, enquiring and confused. He ignored her and asked the burning question in his mind.
“Who are you?”
Never had three words caused Ebony so much confusion. Without thinking, she fell back onto the chair behind her. Knots tightened her stomach with apprehension as a thousand and one questions filled her mind.
What is going on here? Haven’t I suffered enough? Surely, Felix isn’t going to resort to punishing me by denying me.
She had rushed to the hospital eager to see her husband awake and on his way to full recovery. Walking into the room to see him sitting up after he’d spent several weeks broken and fighting for his life, her heart had sung with joy. She had visited him every day, torn apart to watch him oblivious to his surroundings. To watch the man who had always been strong, fit, and full of life, lying damaged and unresponsive, had broken her heart.
“I...I’m Ebony,” she said, and waited for a sign of recognition from him. When none came, his face remaining impassive, she continued.
“Your wife. Don’t you remember me?” she asked, her voice rough and just above a whisper as she struggled to keep her emotions in check and stop her stomach churning with fear. When it came to Felix, she could never hide her feelings.
“I’m not married.”
Felix’s blunt and forceful reply ripped her heart out. Again. A shocked gasp escaped her lips.
He lifted his left hand as if to prove his point. Small white tape covered his third finger.
“The medics had to cover the metal up when you went into surgery,” she said. “I forgot to take it off afterwards.”
His eyes widened as he peeled off the wrapping and revealed the platinum wedding band beneath. He shook his head before looking back at her, his dark brow lifted in an unspoken query.
Ebony lifted her left hand and showed him her matching solitaire diamond ring and wedding band.
“We got married on the thirtieth of December. Remember?”
When he shook his head, she scrambled in her bag with desperation, searching for her phone. Gadget in hand, she turned it on. The screen saver popped up, a picture of both of them on their wedding day.
“Here, see?” If he wanted irrefutable proof, there it lay.
Breath held, she watched for his response.
He stared at the photo with no sign of acknowledgement, his eyes a blank pool of black ice.
She’d seen that cold expression before. The night when everything changed between them. It should have been the best of her life. Instead, it became the worst. The night he'd had the accident.
Pain lanced through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed through it. She couldn’t let despair overtake her again. She’d been in that black pit before. Never again. Time to move forward, one step at a time.
“Felix, what’s going on?” she enquired with a boldness she didn’t exactly feel when he failed to respond with answers to her reflective queries.
Frown lines crossed his forehead as he stared out of the window; his mind seemed to be in a faraway place.
Pinching her lips together, she fought the urge to yell for answers in frustration.
Breathe in from the nose and out through the mouth. She practised her calming technique, hands clasped on her lap, waiting for a reply. She had to be patient with him as he recovered from serious injuries.
Seconds ticked away before he turned to focus on her.
“I’ve lost some of my memory because of the head injury I sustained in an accident that I can’t remember, by the way. It’s the reason I can’t remember you...us...our wedding.”
He sounded exasperated, which she understood.
Air whooshed out of her lungs in relief. He wasn’t denying her.
His black eyes connected with hers, conveyed an intensity that hinted at other things more sensual. The air died to a halt in her throat as his gaze turned to the darkest onyx, keeping her transfixed on him.
“But if we are indeed married, then surely I’d remember us.”
The implication of his words sank into her brain, her body’s response instantaneous.
He might as well have tossed a lit matchstick onto a pile of kindle firewood with her body perched at the top. Except these flames weren’t turning her to ashes. Instead, her body awakened, a phoenix rising from the fire.
Heat travelled up from her curling toes in her wedge slip-on sandals to her face, setting her whole body ablaze. Heart pounding in her chest, she squeezed her hands together in front of her and tried to calm her quivering body.
This instant lust existed from the first time she’d seen him. One look from him and her body had responded in a wayward manner. Same as today. Despite being in a hospital, he still wielded power over her body.
And he couldn’t even remember her! How pathetic did that make her?
With her heart racing, she looked on, entranced, as a lazy smile dimpled his cheeks dusted with stubble. Though she shaved him every morning—she knew how Felix loved being clean-shaven—a shadow of hair always shaded his chin whenever she arrived back the next day. This morning, it gave his rugged face a fierce and sensual edge, making her want to rub her palms against the coarse, short bristles.
The tilt of his smile said he read her like an open book. Could he read her naughty thoughts, too? Her face flushed and she lowered her gaze as annoyance flashed through her mind. She needed to stop falling for his charms.
“Your shy smile is confusing because it implies that I haven’t touched you. But if we are married, ima-mmi, then we must have had a wedding night, at least, and I know from looking at you now that I wouldn’t have been able to resist you.”
Her husband at his most dangerous—full frontal charm.
The husky tinge of his words, the bait. His seductive words, the hook. Ensnared, he reeled her in and she couldn’t help stealing a glance at him.
Ima-mmi. My Love. She rolled the phrase around in her head, letting its warmth suffuse her heart, cherishing it. The last time she’d heard him use the term of endearment on her seemed like a lifetime ago.
They’d had a different relationship. Since then, he’d made it very clear he didn’t care for her in that way. So why did he use the term again now and mess with her head?
The widened smile showing white teeth indicated he knew exactly what he was doing to her, his intent gaze demanding an answer to his implied query.
Then again, he couldn’t remember a thing about their marriage. His words suggested hope for them; that he could come to love her. With his memory gone, they would get a second chance. Could they wipe the slate clean and start again?
Could she provide a satisfactory answer without giving away the troubles with their marriage?
“So tell me.... Did we have our wedding night or not?” The stern tone returned as his expression darkened.
“No.” The word left her lips as if wrenched from her very soul after cleaning her out. Shame scorched her cheeks and she darted her gaze away. “We didn’t have our wedding night. You had the accident on the same evening.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched as a brief frown touched his handsome features.
“You mean we got married and we didn’t...?” As he spoke, he gave her a slow appraisal from head to toe, spreading the heat of mortification all over her this time.
Why does the ground not open and swallow me up when I need it to?
“Yes. No. I mean—”
Before she could complete her sentence, the door to his hospital suite swung open and Felix’s brother, Mark, walked in, followed by his father.
Chapter Two
“Son of a—”
Chief Aloysius Essien glared at his second son as he entered the hospital suite, warning him not to use a foul word in his presence.
“Gun. You are awake,” Mark completed with a huge grin on his face as he clutched his older brother’s hand and bumped shoulders with him in the familiar hug his sons shared.
“Daddy, welcome.” Ebony straightened from the chair and curtsied.
“You were right, my daughter.” He patted the girl’s shoulder and gave her a benevolent smile.
Felix sat up in bed, propped up by white, linen-covered pillows, his cast-bound right leg elevated on another pillow, the remaining visible evidence of the life-threatening accident he’d endured.
Seeing his son alive and on the road to recovery, Aloysius exhaled in relief.
Mark stepped back, giving him space. Chief stepped forward and clutched his first son’s right hand.
“Son, it is so good to see you awake.” His grip tightened and his eyes misted over. “You had us worried for a while. I thought we’d lost you.”
Felix’s expression sobered. “Dad, you worry too much. It’ll take more than a little car accident to knock me out.”
“You’ve got that right,” Mark cut in, making a joke. “Nothing can damage that hard head of his. I tried enough times when we were kids.”
Felix laughed. “Right after I had knocked some sense into your thick skull.”
Aloysius allowed himself a smile as his sons bantered with each other, chasing away the worry that had plagued his mind for weeks. At one point, he’d been close to giving up hope when they doctors couldn’t seem to do anything to rouse Felix from his coma. He’d even flown in a specialist neurosurgeon from London. Yet, the prognosis had remained the same.
“Keep interacting with him. Talk to him. Case studies show some coma victims can hear conversations.”
So they’d carried on visiting him. Ebony had been by her husband’s side everyday and sometimes spent the night at the hospital.
Chief Essien glanced over at his daughter-in-law. She stood in the corner, her arms wrapped around her midriff, her lips curled in a half-smile as she watched the brothers chatting. Though he could see her joy at watching the men interact, her defensive posture lay tinged with sadness. Guilt surged through him and he lowered his frame into the chair that Ebony had vacated, masking his shaking legs.
Had he pushed his son too far? Was he responsible for Felix’s predicament? The harrowing thought had kept him awake since the accident that nearly took his son’s life.
He took another side glance at his son’s wife. She hadn’t moved from the spot nor tried to get involved in the men’s conversation.
“Where are Mum and Tony?” Felix asked.
“Your mother is in Abuja on a women’s conference,” he replied. “I called her on the way here. She’ll be back later today.”
“You know what Tony is like—plays all night in the name of work and sleeps half the day away.”
Felix’s warm laugh filled the room. “As he reminds us, he’s a creative and works when his muse works.”
“Yeah, if only his muse would actually earn him some money.”
“Surely, the restaurant and bar has broken even by now.”
“It would do if the boy would actually concentrate on it instead of chasing a pipe dream of wanting to be a movie mogul.”
“Enough about Tony,” Aloysius cut in. His two older sons always pushed the youngest. “Not everything is about money.”
“Says the King of Finance himself,” Mark said and leaned against the wall, crossing his right leg over the other at the ankles, his expression amused.
Out of all his sons, Mark always said his mind even when he laced it with a joke. Felix however, internalised things. Always did as a child. He only said things after careful thought and analysis with measured actions. He never bore a grudge. His anger rose slowly and with volcanic effect.
This left Aloysius wondering why his son had deserted his new bride on their wedding night and ended up in a coma. Had he pushed his son too far by demanding he should get married?
Felix had never been pleased with the idea. Their conversation in his office six months ago came to his mind.
Six months earlier.
“Dad, I can’t do what you are asking me to do.”
Felix paced his father’s office in Apex House, the headquarters of Apex Financial Holdings in Victoria Island, Lagos. Walking up and down, he risked scuffing a thin path of his footprints into the plush, hardwearing carpets.
He paused to stare out of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows blocking the full glare of the mid-afternoon African sun. Below, the sprawling urban metropolis busied itself with midday, bumper-to-bumper traffic jams.
His father pictured the wheels turning in his son’s head as he took in the full implications of what had just been revealed to him.
Turning around, the younger man carried on pacing.
“The board is requesting this—has been for a long while.” Chief spoke in a calm voice from his seat behind his massive mahogany desk.
“We can’t delay it any further or you risk losing your position and influence. We have to think about the image of the business. In a time when the world is in economic meltdown, we cannot afford to lose our clientele just because of your personal wish not to get married.”
Felix stopped and turned to face the older Essien, patriarch of the family dynasty and his direct boss. Although when it came to running Apex Private Bank, he—not his father—called the shots. His father’s words threatened that autonomy.
“I can’t let the board railroad me without a fight. They know our reputation. We are the best in Nigeria...the whole of Africa...at what we do. We have proven our pedigree by superbly managing the funds of the wealthiest people of this continent in the past. Despite the financial downturn, our returns are highly competitive and comparable in the market. I am still the same person at the helm. None of that will change.” He punctuated his words by slamming one fist into his open palm.
Chief Essien remained calm, nodding as he listened before speaking. “You are right.... We run a prestigious private bank and our clients are nothing if not unswerving, albeit eccentric. They understand that the person at the helm—you,” he pointed at Felix before continuing, “have not changed, but they want to be reassured of the stability of the business via the stability of the person in charge. Marriage is synonymous with permanence and commitment. Moreover, your recent escapade in the tabloids has not done your reputation any good.” He lifted a newspaper from his desk to emphasise his point.
Bile rose in Aloysius’s gut, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalled the recent scandal played out daily in the tabloid newspapers over the past month. He paid a lot of money to keep a positive image of his family in the press. Still, some things couldn’t be avoided.
Wealthy and single young men, his sons originated from a family dynasty that equated to royalty in these parts. Entanglements with beautiful women came with the territory. An occupational hazard of sorts. He’d brought them up on how to court the media and when to avoid it.
Sometimes, the gossip press were thrown bones to keep them off the fleshy news.
However, a few weeks ago, the Sun People newspaper had printed an alleged exclusive from a woman who’d claimed Felix had an affair with her, resulting in a two-year old son. The news had been picked up by the popular Lori Booth gossip blog and had spread all over the internet.
Felix had denied it, claiming he’d never seen the woman nor slept with her.
Aloysius had believed him without a doubt. Of all his sons, Felix wouldn’t sleep with a woman without caution or remembering. Mark, perhaps. Tony, definitely. He understood his sons’ personalities that well.
They’d called in their lawyers and demanded a paternity test.
“But you know the outcome.” His son grimaced. “I was vindicated. The DNA test proved the child wasn’
t mine, after all, and the newspaper has withdrawn the claim, printed an apology, and paid damages. The lady in question only did it out of desperation, I understand. Abandoned by the father of her very sick son, she needed the money to take care of her child’s hospital expenses. Whilst I don’t agree with her actions, in fact, it was a huge personal inconvenience—” He rubbed the short stubbles on his chin, making a grating sound,”—I understand her reasons. I’ve arranged through the solicitors to cover the child’s hospital bill and to pay a fixed sum into her account to help her set up a business enterprise of her choice, hence getting some positive press coverage, after all.”
Aloysius let out a heavy, resigned sigh; his shoulders slumped as he remembered the stress of the event. Felix took a step in his direction, concern etched lines on his forehead.
“I know, son. But the damage to your reputation had already been done. The board feels that if you don’t settle down and get married soon, another scandal will be on the cards in the near future. You cannot avoid it; you have to get married. They have given you until the first of January. Otherwise, they will be voting to replace you. I know Petersen is behind this planned coup. We’ve worked too hard for this business to be left into his hands.”
Kris Petersen had been a thorn in their sides since he acquired minority share holdings when another investor sold up suddenly. Aloysius suspected the man waited for an opportunity to vent his ire on the Essien family for past spites. However, he’d never made such a blatant move before.
“What?” Felix stood still and gripped the back of the chair. His body tensed up, frustration making his jaw tick like a time bomb.
He offered a sad smile as sympathy for his son’s predicament settled on his shoulders. As first son, Felix bore the brunt of his father’s ambitions for his progeny. He’d provided a legacy for his family and their generations through the Apex Group and ruled it like his kingdom. As heir apparent, Felix would be chairman one day, and Aloysius wanted to ensure his son didn’t make the same mistakes he’d made in his youth.