chapter one

According to Sigmund Freud: in modernism what we know as the truth becomes problematic. It is what is called aporia.

The chirping of birds and the morning wind dancing in rhymes to the voice of nature. The moon given way to it's counterpart; the sun slowly indicating the time for it's takeover. Little drops of sweat making it's way to her face, Ifeoma slowly stops from her morning stroll sighting a pavement beside the road she sits on it as her mind recalls the event last night. Unknown to her little drops of tears are already kissing her face. If only she could turn the hands of time but a voice deep inside her knowns that by peradventure she could, she wouldn't have changed what happened . What she might have changed were the circumstances but definitely not the act itself.

Last night was supposed to be her day , but who was she kidding not all hopes are met. One sided love was something she only read in books or watched in movies, who would have thought she would not just experience it first-hand but be the one at the receiving end_ the recipient of rejection . How would she begin to tell her story. Who would believe that are supposedly husband refused to touch her or even share a room with her on their wedding night.

"I'll take responsibility" he had said the day they both woke up to their naked bodies rolled up the shit and their body intimately clinging to each other.

The night before she had come out to the sitting room to make sure everywhere was locked. Last week she had forgotten to check only to wake-up to unlocked doors. At first she had thought it was a case of burglary but when she checked, everything was still in its place.

These days Obi, her boss and mentor retires to bed as soon as they're back from the office sometimes without eating. She had been straddled with the responsibility of locking up the house after him. What had worried her the most was his gloomy state. Thou he doesn't laugh unnecessary but these days he rarely laughed at all. She wished she could help him forget the grief he felt.

The night everything fell apart and was no longer as it was; Ifeoma had gone to check the locks when she heard a distant muffle of Obi's voice; it sounded like he was in some kind of pain . She hurried towards the bar were the voice was emitting from; she saw the sight that broke her heart. The man she has secretly loved,her mentor, her boss curled on the floor like a rejected orphan,her heart sank when she saw him in such dejected state; looking broken .

The normal Obi on a normal day exudes confidence and vigour, he was a man whose aura radiant respect. The man she saw seated on the floor holding a bottle of whiskey in his hands was nothing like the strong-willed boss she had come to love and adore.

"Oh my god sir! Are you ok?" She bends to his level as she tried to lift the heavy man up. He was too heavy for her and soon she comes crashing down on top of him. It was like a slow motion movie, every sound faded, the room became blur, the moment was magical, it was like a dream especially when his libs came colliding on hers. Ifeoma's heart beat stopped for a second and the next second it came beating so loudly that she thought it would come pumping out.

"Please don't leave me" Obi had said as his tongue slurred into her mouth.

She had never felt so out of control, Ifeoma couldn't understand the feeling submerging inside her but she was sure of something; she loved the taste of his tongue in her mouth, it tasted of whisky and brandy. It was a funny feeling since she hated both whisky and brandy in fact she hated alcohol on a whole, the brandy and whisky in his mouth, tasted heavenly, it was like the best taste in the world.

She had known he was drunk but she suppressed the voice inside her head telling her to stop with the madness, the whispers of morality whispering into her mind that what they were doing was wrong, no what she allowed obi do to her since he wasn't on the right frame of mind. She ignored it all.

What if? she had told her self what if he felt the same way for her like she she felt him, that singular feeling made everything right to her. She didn't care about the world; in that moment it felt like they're the only ones on earth as their mouth danced in sync. Nothing else mattered.

Everything that has a beginning sure has an end, it's only in our fantasy that castles are built on air, reality speaks differently, every irrationality Ifeoma felt left her the moment he called her "lucy" his late wife's name.

Of curse he had her confused for his wife, it was his wife he kissed, it was his wife he told not to leave him, it was his wife he was clinging on to not Ifeoma, not her. Ifeoma felt her face wet on something; her tears, as they left her eyes on their own volition like they aren't hers to control, like they had authority over her hormones.

She pushed him slightly as she got up ready to run inside her room and cry herself to sleep. As she turned to leave she heard him say in a croak voice: " don't go away, don't leave me." When she looked back at him, she saw grief, anxiety,fear,that was all it took to melt her heart. She felt her heart break into many pieces. As she watched on she saw her boss, the almighty Obinna Nelson Anikwe in his most vulnerable state; broken and dejected. Ifeoma wished she could take away his grief.

One thing lead to another, they both found themselves in his bedroom and on his bed. He had being gentle, gentle as he removed her clothes, gentle as he sucked and licked her frightened body even as he slid into her. The pain she felt was nothing compared to the emotions running through her veins; they had become one, flesh to flesh, breath to breath, that was what mattered, the pain was worth it.

She had being passive in the whole process, she felt like a baby in his experienced hands. He knew were to touch her and when. It was like thou he had mastered her body, even as he was inside her he said sweet things to her; he handled her like she was a breakable object, he might not have being in love with her but she felt loved: "are you ok? Are my going too fast? Is it too painful? Tell me when you can't hold on any longer." The feeling was priceless especially as it was her first time.

The next morning Ifeoma had woken up with a strange type of fatigue and tightness around her down region. As she tried to stretch her body that was when she noticed something heavy on her stomach engulfing her in a near embrace. At first she was confused until the event last night came flooding through her memory. She was confused on what to feel : shy, scared, happy or sad. One thing she had being certain of; she didn't regret it,not the sex nor the emotional attachment she had given to it.

Ifeoma tried freeing herself from Obi's grip without waking him up but her effort seemed futile especially as their legs were intertwined. She heard him sniff and closed her eyes immediately. She didn't want to see the hurt in his eyes nor the regret on his face. She knew obi well enough to know he led a principled life and would feel he used her. Ifeoma knew she wasn't used, she might not have premeditated the whole scenario but she wouldn't deny the fact she wanted it or that she loved every bit of it.

As Obi opened his eyes, the first thing that embraced his nose was the smell of vanilla, awareness filled him as he recalled the events last night.

Yesterday made it exactly four years since Lucy his wife was kidnapped on their way to an event. Obi still couldn't forget how happy she had being when he agreed to go with her. He wasn't a party person, it took alot of convincing and of course sex for Lucy to make him agree to go to her friends engagement party.

He couldn't understand why people made a great deal out of a simple engagement. Left to him, an engagement should be between the two people that are directly involved and the parents of the both families.

The recent trend of making an elaborate party out of a engagement simply agrees with he's discussion with a friend: Nigerians are gradually forsaking their identity and embracing that of the westerners in totality and uniformity forgetting; they are nothing without their identity. It is a people's identity that stands them out among others giving them a place in a world flooded with trillions of people and millions of races.

The Igbos for example have their unique way of engaging a lady and if you would ask him the process and method is more dignifying and elevating. The craze for trend has consumed the beautiful and almost natural way an engagement used to be conducted. Now it's all about glamour, unnecessary competion, meretricious attention and faux fame not to mention the waste of resources and time.

Lucy had taken her time to prepare: "babe today is going to be a very memorable one." She giggles revealing her beautiful dentition.

Obi felt a great pang in his heart as he remembered her smile; he could give anything to have her smile for him again. It was for this reason he went to his bar to drawn is sorrows away. Didn't the Bible say to give wine to a man in sorrow so he would drink and forget his sorrows.

He wasn't a drunkard in fact he only drinks on special occasions or on business meetings or the few occasions he goes out with friends which he rarely does these days.

Obi untangled his legs intertwined with Ifeoma's leg, careful not to wake her. He wasn't sure he was ready to see her hurtful eyes. In his drunken stupidity he had used an innocent girl, his employee and protégé. How would she look at him from now on.

He could recall some pieces of what went down last night: "I haven't done it before." He recalled her say. His reply had being: "don't worry I would be gentle."

What was he thinking when he took her innocence, she doesn't deserve to be with a broken man like him, he has alot of baggage he thought to himself. He can't offer her anything especially his heart since it doesn't belong to him, it belongs to another even thou he isn't sure if she's alive or dead but his whole being will always belong to Lucy the love of his life.

As he was about to get up or rather run away he heard a melodic voice say: "good morning." The world stood still, in his confused state he muttered the only thing that came to his mind:"I'll take responsibility."

Authors Note

Before you go ahead to continue reading this book I would want to point out something's you would be expecting.

I've read alot of romance novels online and I noticed the setting is usually in USA or the UK, sometimes in Asia countries which personally I do not have a problem with but it gives me great concern that no one most ironic African writers, seems not to find it good enough to inculcate Africa as the setting for their stories or even centre the plot on Africa or Africans. When they do, it's usually the case of an Africa in the western world, which is still not a problem but it's alarming and concerning.

If indeed we travel the world through books why then do African writers find it unattractive and unprime to have the setting of their novels in Africa or share with the world the uniqueness of who we are, our sophisticated culture, our exquisite meals and many more. It's as if we're indirectly saying: good romance cannot exist in Africa or romance novels would loose it's romanticism if centred in Africa which personally I find erroneous.

If indeed romance novels are part of literature which they are; I would say we cut some slack for African writers as they've paid their dues in the world of literature.

We cannot ignore the multiple award winning author; Chinua Achebe, an internationally acclaimed scholar whose novel 'Things fall Apart' gained so much accreditation that it has being translated to more fifty languages and still counting or the recent and eloquent award-winning  writer of ;HALF OF A YELLOW SUN Chimamanda Adichie, or the compassionate writer of; SECOND CLASS CITIZENS Flora Nwampa . They are all from Nigeria, Western Africa.

There is also the atypical Ayi Kwei Armah, author of ; THE BEAUTYFUL ONES ARE NOT YET BORN, of Ghana, PETALS OF BLOOD author; Ngugi Wa Thiong'O, of Kenya. Africa is indeed blessed.

It was through books I traveled to Galway Ireland, River Mississippi, the great fountains of Versailles, the beautiful city of Paris, los Angeles USA, Las Vegas, California the home of Hollywood, the London tower; heirloom of the royal family, the beautiful castles and mountains in Scotland. I came to love the Korean native food; kimchi, Americans pizza, Chinese chicken wings and so many other intriguing and interesting things I'm yet to experience physical as I've done book wise.

If you decide to read this book which I hope you do then be prepared to imaginarily travel to Nigeria, which is the major setting of this book. This book features some: Nigerian delicacies, culture, lifestyle, cities and alot more. I've read several books where the writers have to google Italian, Chinese, French languages to fit the trend, which I find adventurous and captivating. Coming from the stance of originality, I decided to go original and put some words in my native language Igbo. It's going to be short and the translations will come immediately after the sentence. Also, my lead characters would bare their native names.

Romance is not a citizen of some particular country or countries. It can be seen anywhere and experienced by anyone regardless of race or skin colour. Romance novels shouldn't have to be centred on some places and its characters bearing foreign names. Some writers would even prefer imaginary cities and places, which is creative but if you would ask me; since romantic novels are mostly fiction wouldn't it be more realistic in the mind of the readers if some places were actually real and not fictional as well, my thoughts thou.

Thou I featured Nigeria as the main setting do not therefore be surprised if you read other locations that aren't real. I just want to spice things up and experiment the two.

If you are below eighteen I advice you find novels with no age restrictions as this book would contain some steamy scenes, matured language, violence and nudity.