as-sistant girlfriend episode 6

as-sistant girlfriend episode 6
By the end of second semester year three, I met Jack’s younger brother, Kelvin at the p@rty of one of Jack’s friends. He had just returned home from service and was the breath of fresh air I nee-ded. We got talking and his being an alumni of my dep@rtment drew us closer.
However, tragedy struck before the beginning of the holidays. After complaining of fatigue and dizziness and taken to the hospital for check-up, my friend Richa-rd , died. It was the most painful time of my life, because a hvge p@rt of me was hopeful that he would get better especially after his successful kidney transplant.
He never did.
I had to stay back to go for his funeral and it was during that time that Kelvin occu-pied a prominent position in my life. News of his death had left me depressed for days but he’d been there to lend his support. His elder brother and I had finally drifted ap@rt but I and Kelvin seemed to get closer with every pas-sing day.
I mostly enjoyed his company and was fine with being close friends with him. He was a great guy, funny, witty and more mature than his elder brother. However, he didn’t match up to Jack in the looks dep@rtment, as Jack was more handsome with a S-x appeal that could leave females within a mile radius, h—y. Excluding close family members, that is. Kelvin, on the other hand, was ‘silently’ handsome. His most prominent features were the dimples on his cheeks, his aquiline nose and a ch!pped tooth. He had a really soft side that was the direct opposite of his brother’s rugged nature. They were as dissimilar as night and day but got along fine.
All my female friends knew we were close friends and Kristen enjoyed having Kelvin in the room because he was the intelligent one. His conversations always revolved around history and happening events, Kristen fondly called him a ‘walking encyclopedia’. I knew she was attra-cted to him and soon, they bec@m£ an item.
Kristen and Kelvin? They seemed like a cute couple and I was happy for them. Kristen had not been lucky in her last relationsh!p. Her and her former b©yfri£ndspent the bulk of their three year relationsh!pin different cities and just like mine, it had been a roller coaster of emotions. After going on and off again for the 20th time, Kristen had had enough and nee-ded a clean break. She was starting over with Kelvin.
I eventually went home for the holidays.
November 2012
The harmattan that year had begun as timidly as a rabbit the month I got back home for the holidays, but a few days later the afternoon heat bec@m£ more oppressive than I’d ever known it to be. My mother had said it was the worst she could recall, and dad said she had finally gotten her wish. Just like APC had done gullible Nigerians, she had brou-ght him hell on earth. Yeah, my parents didn’t have a happy marriage.
Nature appeared as depressed as I was that season. The sun blazed warmer than usual during the day, l!çk!ng off whatever moisture was left by the morning dew and the nights were no cooler than the days. At times the air was so heavy with humidity that my hair would become damp and no amount of hitting could make the itch go away. Thanks to the paralytic power supply too, we didn’t have fans or air conditioners to keep us cool during the day.
I can remember this summer of 2012 vividly because it was when things finally c@m£ tumbling down. A wind of truth was to b!ow into my affairs and bring my secrets to light.
I thought it was the heat and my own gloom that upset my stomach one night. My mother thought I might be coming down with some sort of dys£ntery. She gave me some pills and told me to go to be-d early. She was a professional nurse and I believed her prescription would work wonders.
But the next morning I woke up just as nauseous and had to vomit again. My mother was worried, but once I finished throwing up, I suddenly felt better. My headache was gone and my nausea pas-sed.
I tried to reas-sure her that the medications seemed to have worked but she looked thoughtful and unconvinced. I wasn’t sick again for nearly a week, but I was continually tired and sluggish, once falling asleep on the dining table.
One afternoon my mother noticed me returning from the toilet.
“How many times have you been to the toilet today, Dora?” She asked.
“A few. Just to pee, mom. My stomach’s okay.”
She still stared at me suspiciously.
And then the next morning I woke up and had the same nausea. I had to vomit again.
My mom c@m£ to my room and put a we-t towel on my forehead and then she sat on my be-d and stared at me. Without speaking, she pu-ll-ed the duvet back, pu-ll-ed up my pajamas t©p and looked at my brea-sts.
“How late is it?”
I was confused, “what mom?”
“Your period, Dora. How late is it?” She probe-d.
“A few weeks,” I admitted.
She was quiet. She looked away and took a de-ep breath and then she turned to me slowly, her eyes sad but firm. She s—-d in some air and looked up before she looked at me again.
“How did this happen, Dora?” She asked softly. “Who got you pregnant?