I'm sure y'all are tired of reading my apology time and time again so maybe I should just skip that today 🥺.

This chapter made me feel all sort of ways especially Femi's POV and although it's rushed and unedited, I hope I was able to convey those feelings to you.

It's a very long chapter so I hope you like it.

Happy reading!

***

Chapter Fifty Two

FEMI

"Should you be lying to her?"

Grace looks up at me from her phone, smiles and shrugs then presses send. I watch as the double tick on her message appears, signalling that her lie about being at home and falling asleep at any minute has been delivered to Cynthia.

She puts her phone away and smiles at me, "I assure you that's better than telling her that 'Oh, bestie. I'm currently at my boyfriend's house because there's no one at my house and I want to spend more time with him' because as soon as she finds out I'm with you, she's going to start asking questions."

I chuckle and nod, "Okay then."

I open the door of my car to get down and she does the same. The rain is drizzling now but our clothes are still drenched from when the rain started falling all of a sudden in the stadium. She comes to stand beside me shivering a little as she gazes up at my house.

"Your house is really huge." She comments, fascination evident in her eyes.

I try to smile at her remark but unfortunately, that's the exact problem I have with the house.

It's big. And empty.

"And we have it all to ourselves." I tell her, trying to be optimistic.

"How about your grandma?" She asks innocently. I haven't really told her about my parents but she knows I live with my grandma.

"She's at work. She has companies to run." I smile and she nods thoughtfully, looking like she wants to say something but she's holding back.

"That's admirable." She mentions and I nod in agreement. She shivers again and wrap her hands around herself. The chills are starting to get to me too.

"Let's go inside." I pull her towards the front door and let out a sigh of relief when we both step into the warmth of the house.

Grace looks around while I unbutton my shirt. I watch as she takes in everything around her.

"I like your house. It has this ancient feeling to it." She murmurs then points at the grandfather clock that is hanging on a wall.

"Yeah, it's been around for decades now. Heard it was built by my great great great grandfather or something." I reply nonchalantly.

"You don't have a maid? Or someone who welcomes you and takes care of the house?" She asks, her eyes staring intently at me.

"We do have but she comes and goes. She doesn't stay here permanently." I explain to her.

"And your grandma has to run the company." She says more to herself than to me.

I can already sense her next question before she asks it.

"So you come home to a vacant house almost everyday?" She looks at me before asking the next question, "Where are your parents?"

I know I will have to explain everything about my family to her sooner or later but I'm not ready to do that right now. Especially not in wet clothes.

"Aren't you cold?" It's an obvious change of topic and she must have noticed but she says nothing. "I will get you some clothes to change in."

I start to head to my room, not waiting for her response but it doesn't take long for me to hear footsteps behind me.

I turn around and she grins at the questioning look on my face.

"What? I'm just curious to see what your room looks like."

The smile playing on her face, her raised eyebrow that makes her eyes look wider and the mischief playing in those eyes all makes her look so cute that I can't help myself. I take the steps towards her until we are only inches apart.

Her already widened eyes are almost bulging out of their sockets now but she doesn't step back.

"You're going to my room with me to change out of your clothes while we are the only ones in the entire house. Aren't you scared someth- Ouch!" She smacks me on the shoulder before I can complete my sentence and rolls her eyes when she sees through my exaggerated act of being in pain.

"I know you won't try anything that I don't want with me." She tells me and steps around me. She continues to walk towards my room like she knows where it is and I just decide to step in line with her.

"Are you sure your mum won't be looking for you since you aren't home?" I ask, genuinely worried that she might get in trouble with her mum. From what I know, Grace has a pretty scary father but her mum is cool.

The problem is just that there must surely be a limit to her coolness.

"Do you want me to text her that I'm alone with my boyfriend in his house?" She asks me and I am not sure how I'm to reply.

She must have mistaken my silence as fear because she laughs and waves it off, "Don't worry, she's still in the twin's school for their open day."

I nod, remembering that she has mentioned it already while we were in the stadium.

We finally get to my room, I open the door and we both step inside. She waltz into the room like this isn't her first time in it.

My room is just a basic room, nothing out of the ordinary but I see her stare amusingly at my BTS wallpaper.

She points at it, "Really?"

I chuckle and open my closet to get clothes for both of us, "Why? A boy is not allowed to like them?"

"I'm not judging. Just surprised my boyfriend is into k-pop and I'm just finding out." She shrugs.

Well, when you are mostly at home on your own and surf the internet to pass time, you come across a lot of things. BTS was one of those things and they will always be special to me.

I remove one of my big thick t-shirt and place it in her hands.

"I will change in the bathroom. You can change here." I tell her and she nods but before I go, I add. "Or we can just change together."

She giggles and smacks me on the shoulder again, "Just go."

I give her a quick kiss on her nose before heading for the bathroom with another of my big t-shirts and sweatpants.

By the time I'm done changing, she has already found my old K-drama DVDs.

I laugh silently. Seriously.

She must have noticed me standing at the entrance and watching her because she turns to me and smiles, "You really have all the classics" she raises them up. "Sometimes I forget that you watch kdramas too." She continues as she browses through them.

"You know I had all these before Netflix came into existence." I tell her.

"Of course." She points at one of the DVDs, "You still even have boys before flowers." She giggles and continues to go through them.

I grab the DVDs from her and place them in the cabinet that she had taken them from and start to pull her downstairs.

"Hey, I wasn't done checking out your room." She protests but I ignore her. I lead her into the kitchen and pull out a stool for her to sit.

She grins when she realises what's happening, "You want to cook for me?"

There's a hint of amusement and a bit of uncertainty in her voice and I stifle a laugh.

"You are looking at the best cook in this house." I announce proudly but now the doubt is evident in her face now.

"You can actually cook?"

I nod with a proud smile and almost dance happily when the doubt in her face is replaced with wonder.

"Wow. Who taught you to cook?"

My face falls at the question and I quickly turn to the stove so that my back is to her and she can't see my face.

"I taught myself." I try to insert a bit of cheerfulness into my voice but I know it didn't work. I sounded sad even to myself.

But that's what happens when you have to teach yourself how to cook because the maid doesn't come to the house everyday and you can't keep ordering food online.

I stare at the stove fire that is burning gently and remember the first time I had tried to put it on. I had turn the gas on so high without knowing and as soon as I set fire to the match and tried to light it up, it had exploded in my face.

I can still remember the tremor I experienced that day. I was shaken to the core and there was no one I could cry out to, no one I could asked for help.

Because I was alone in the house. Like I always am.

It wasn't until I had seen Kike turn on the stove normally for months and finally asked her to teach me before I could overcome my fear and finally set fire to the stove.

That's how pathetic my life was.

"Femi!"

I turn to find Grace beside me, concern written all over her face.

"I've been calling you for a while now and all you've been doing is staring at the fire. Is something wrong?"

I should probably tell her all this, right? So she knows how much of a favour she's doing me by being with me right now.

I manage to give her a smile and put some water in the kettle before placing it on the fire.

"Would you like some chocolate drink?"

She doesn't answer immediately, staring pointedly at me. Finally, she sighs and nods.

I walk her back to her seat, place her on the chair before I go back to making the tea.

"What do you prefer? Milo or Bournvita?"

"Milo." She responds and I can't help grinning at the fact that we both like Milo.

"Why do you have both of them in your house anyways?" She asks. I glance back at her before pouring some liquid milk in her cup of tea then mine.

"Because Grandma likes Bournvita and I like Milo."

"Oh."

"She also likes her chocolate warm while I prefer mine hot." I explain as I add the hot water in my own tea. "How about you?"

"I like it warm normally but because I got beaten by the rain, I will take it hot."

I nod and add the hot water to her drink too.

After I'm done, I place the cup of chocolate in front of her and she smiles. I watch her take the tea to her lips, my eyes following her every movement. When her eyebrows shoot up in approval, my lips curve into a smile.

"Did you add sugar to this?" She asks and I shake my head. "It's so good."

"What did I tell you? In this kitchen, anything I make is good." I make an exaggerated bow for dramatic effects.

She bursts into laughter. My heart swelling at the fact that she's laughing because of me and I come to the decision that her laughs and giggles are my new favourite sounds in the world.

"But you do know a chocolate drink isn't really something special? When you told me you were going to cook for me, I thought you meant real food not this." She comments as she blows air into her drink and takes another sip.

"Well, I will have you know that the chocolate isn't even an appetiser not to talk of the main course."

She fakes a look of surprise, her mouth in an 'o' shape as she nods along to what I'm saying before asking.

"So what's the appetiser?"

"We will be skipping that for today." I reply without missing a beat.

She laughs again and shakes her head at me. I try my best to keep from laughing too.

"How about the main course then?"

I pretend to think, although I already know what I will be cooking for her. "Since we are pressed for time and we won't want to cook something that requires a lot of time, I've decided that the best choice we have is noodles and egg."

She giggles and takes another sip from her drink, "Of course. By all means, Chef Femi, you are free to cook me noodles and egg."

I smile and go back to the kitchen counter, opening the cabinets to take out two sachet of noodles and an egg since I will be cooking for only her.

This time around, I grab the apron and make a show of putting it on in front of her.

She stifles her laughter and gives me a thumb up. But I hear her mutter under her breath, "If only he knows how he looks like." Although I feel like she actually wants me to hear.

I put on the stove again and place the pot with water on it. I might know how to cook but noodles is by far the food I've eaten the most in the house so cooking it for someone else won't be hard at all.

With my back still turned to her, I ask, "Do you like your noodles long or short?"

"As long as it's delicious, I'm not picky." She responds.

"How about your egg? Boiled or fried?"

"I prefer fried to boiled but I'm okay with any of it."

"Fried it is."

I place the noodles in the now boiling water and break the egg into a plate. All this, I try to do while looking sexy as possible because I can feel Grace watching my every move.

I'm still busy slicing the pepper for the egg when I hear the telephone in our living room ring causing me to stop midway between cutting.

The thing with the telephone in the sitting room is that it hasn't rung in forever. In fact, I have forgotten about its existence until this very moment.

And that's why I think I already know who is calling.

"Femi, won't you take that call?" Grace asks from behind me and I turn to look at her. I wish she can magically know what's happening and advise me on what to do. But how will she know when I've never even told her anything.

The only thing on her face right now is puzzlement at why I'm still in the kitchen.

When the phone suddenly stops ringing, I let out a sigh but my relief doesn't last for long as it soon starts to ring again.

"Femi?!" Grace calls again.

Without meeting her eyes, I finally head towards the living room. My steps getting heavier as I approach the phone.

I remove the receiver from the telephone and place it on my ear and the squeaky hello I hear from the other side is enough to confirm my assumptions.

I say nothing into the phone and it goes silent on the other end too. I would have thought she was no longer on the phone if I wasn't hearing her laboured breathing.

And then she says the word that totally breaks my heart. That word and the urgency she uses in speaking it totally shatters my heart into pieces.

"Femi?"

My stomach churns.

"Femi?"

She repeats again and somehow my already shattered heart is beating again.

"Femi, my child... Is that you?"

There's a rush of blood in my head. My shattered heart is beating way too fast now and it's on its way to exploding. Exploding to fragments that won't even function anymore.

"Femi." She's crying now. "Femi, I'm so sorry. I-

I place the receiver back on the telephone, not wanting to hear her give excuses.

She has no right to call me her child.

She has no right to apologise.

She has no right to sound like she's in pain.

I didn't know when Grace walk into the sitting room. I didn't know when she came  to stand beside me. I didn't even know that I was crying and my hand is clutching my chest until she wipes my tears and places her hand on my chest.

And then she pulls me into a hug and I'm crushing her to me, hugging her so tight that I might have restricted her breathing but she doesn't complain. Instead, she rubs my back slowly, soothing me and not saying anything.

I want to scream and shout but instead I mentally scold myself for being this much affected by that woman. For reacting that way to her voice. For allowing her to break my heart. For shedding tears for her.

We stay like that for seconds, minutes, hours. I don't know but it felt like an eternity and all the while, Grace says nothing. Her hand continuously rubbing my back in motions slowly.

When I finally feel like the pain is bearable, I release my grip on her and straighten up. She gives me a reassuring smile and takes me towards the kitchen.

She sits me on the stool that she was previously occupying and head towards the counter.

"I switched off the stove before I came to you but the noodles are soggy now." She says into the pot as she stirs it.

Why...?

"But there's still the egg so I'm just going to finish frying it for you." She turns to me and smiles.

Why isn't she asking me anything?

"You are now in Chef Grace's kitchen." She grins and everything is just so overwhelming that the tears start to well up in my eyes again.

I place my hands over my eyes, stopping any tears that might want to escape. It takes a while for them to stop and when I finally open my eyes, she's beside me, looking at me worryingly.

"I don't deserve you." I whisper.

She shakes her head and hugs me again, her hands on my head. "That's a lie. You deserve the best and I'm not even it."

I break free from her embrace and pull out the stool beside me so she can sit.

She grabs one of my hands and places it on her lap, squeezing it. She gives me an encouraging smile and I manage to give her one in return.

"The person who just called now was my mother."

She doesn't say anything but I can see the questions she's holding back.

"She left home when I was five and never tried to contact us until the day you and I started going out." She looks surprised by my explanation but then understanding dawns on her like she now knows why I reacted that way to my mother calling me.

"I heard her voice for the first time in eleven years, Grace." My voice breaks and she squeezes my hand harder, offering solace silently.

"How about your father?" She finally asks.

"He left even before my mother did. Went away with his mistress. My mum refused to be tied down with me so she also left and that's how I have lived alone with Grandma all these years."

"I'm so sorry." She tells me. Her eyes are sad and her lips are trembling. At this rate, she might also start crying.

"Do you miss them?"

"No." I immediately shake my head but she gives me a knowing look. "Maybe I was curious. Curious to know what it would have been like with them around but that was about it."

She lets out a heavy sigh and nods.

"Why do you think she's contacting you now?"

"I don't know. And honestly I don't care."

"Femi." She calls my name gently.

"What? Don't tell me you actually want me to give her an audience?"

She nods and I almost snatch my hand from hers. Is she serious?

After how many years?!!

"You don't know how I've lived until now, Grace. I grew up lonely in this house with no one to play or talk to. Grandma was hardly at home and every friendship I had ended in school. Every day, every single day, my grandma's driver will drop me in the compound and then drive back to the company. The maid dropped by everyday then to cook for me but that's about it. She was never around by the time I get back."

"And everyday, I will walk into this house as big as it is and meet just a plate of food on the table with a note, telling me to do assignments and watch a bit of TV then go to sleep. Sometimes, I don't see my grandma for weeks because she returns while I'm already asleep and leaves before I wake the next morning."

"Do you know how cold and lonely that is? Do you know how much it takes for me to be cheerful and playful in school back then when what I am feeling is anything but that so other students will want to be my friend? Do you know how dreadful it was for me to return back to this house everyday?! Sometimes I stay in the compound for hours, staring at the sky, or looking at passing cars because I don't want to enter into the empty house!"

"Do you even know how painful it was for me growing up?"

"I craved love and attention. I wanted someone to love me, someone to dote on me so I dated. I dated and every girl I dated could somehow sense my desperation so they used me. They used me and broke me even more all because I wanted someone to love me."

"And you want me to allow her back into my life like nothing happened? It all started with her and my father. Everything! Everything started with them!"

Grace is already crying now and she's soon hugging me again. This time she's the one clutching me to herself, hugging me as tightly as she can.

"My poor baby." Her voice breaks and I begin to cry too. I cry for the broken small boy who had to endure all that. For the boy who had to suffer because of his parents decision. For the boy who just wanted to be loved.

"How long has that been bottled inside of you?" She asks me after releasing me from her hug and I'm blinking in confusion, wondering on her sudden question.

"What you just told me, how many people have you told?" She asks and I shake my head, telling her that I've told no one.

How do I even begin to tell them without anyone thinking that I'm trying too hard? They don't even know all these about me and they can still somehow see that I'm desperate. 

I can still remember my confrontation with Wole when I told them that I was going to pursue Grace. He came to conclusions on his own even though I've never told them about my parents.

And he might be right. But he can never understand how dark and cold loneliness can be.

"Femi, look at me." Grace is staring directly into my eyes now and I'm staring into hers. "I need you to promise me two things."

I swallow nervously, not sure what she's going to ask of me.

"Promise me you will never keep or hide anything from me. No matter how difficult it is for you."

I'm not used to sharing my thoughts or feelings to anyone but I can always try. I have even also come to realise that telling things to Grace is actually an easy thing to do.

"I promise." I utter and she smiles slightly before looking serious again.

"The second thing you will promise me is..."

"Is what?" I ask, having a feeling that what she's about to ask me to do is going to be difficult.

"...is that you are going to see your mum-

I start to protest but she only raises her voice and continues, "-see your mum and tell her everything you just told me."

She completes and I stare at her, stunned.

"Have you lost your mind?" I ask her.

"Promise me." She repeats, not caring about the battle that is going on within me. That she's actually making me consider it.

"Promise me."

"Grace, I-

She shakes her head to stop me from talking, her eyes pleading with me, "Promise me, please."

"I promise." I tell her. She smiles but then tears are also welling in her eyes.

Is she that happy that I promised her?

I know those promises she just asked me to make are for my own good and at this moment, I'm just very glad that I hadn't listened to Wole and had really gone ahead with pursuing her.

And that's why what I tell her next just seems like the right thing to say.

"Grace, I want you to also promise me one thing."

"What's it?" She asks softly.

"Promise me that you will never leave me." I tell her, studying any sign of hesitancy on her face.

She smiles and leans forward until we are just inches apart then kisses me swiftly on my lips.

"I promise."

***

CYNTHIA

I read through John's messages to confirm that my eyes had really seen what my brain just processed because I just can't understand.

The nerves of the guy!

I go back to Grace's last message where she said 'I should call her but she might already be asleep' and discover that it's just ten minutes ago.

The probability that she might be awake is high so I decide to call her like she asked. But when I call her twice and she doesn't respond, I let out a frustrated groan.

There is no way I can come up with a response to this guy without her helping me reason logically because if I send him a message with how annoyed I am right now, I might say some really hurtful things.

I mean he sent a message to me himself saying he feels like he might have wronged me and yet he is still asking for a date?!!

How does that even work?!

"You've been standing there and staring at your phone for close to ten minutes now." I hear Peter's voice and I glance up to see him watching me. I can't believe that I totally forgot about him or the fact that I was at his place.

"And during those ten minutes, I've counted up to eight different emotions on your face. I think you just set a record for the most amount of genuine emotions portrayed in a very short period of time." He completes jokingly and I let out a frustrated sigh but when he laughs, I can't help smiling even though I'm still annoyed and on edge.

I go back to sitting next to him and glance down at my phone just as John's call comes through on my phone again. I stare at it with a mix of annoyance and confusion. I'm torn between picking his call now and yelling at him for lying to me about the party and not picking his calls and just sending texts instead.

"Is something wrong?" Peter asks, a hint of worry in his voice which makes me look up at him. He scoots nearer to me and glances at my phone. He then let's out a soft 'oh' when he sees John calling.

He nods towards the phone, "Have you spoken to him since you found out the truth?"

I let out a small sigh and shake my head, "No."

"Why? You aren't ready to confront him?"

I wasn't ready to confront him. I was avoiding his texts and calls and I'm not going to deny that fact because I wasn't ready to talk to him. But the text he just sent me now changes everything.

He is mistaken if he thinks that I'm going on a date with him. And that only means I will have to confront him soon.

I stare at Peter who is looking at me expectantly and wonder if I should just explain the whole John situation to him. He already knows about the party after all.

"He asked me to go on a date with him." I tell him, deciding to just go with it. His eyebrows shoot up in response, surprise written all over his face.

I still can't get used to his face showing what he is feeling but I prefer him this way.

"So that's supposed to be a bad thing, right?" He asks carefully, like he's not sure that's the right thing to say.

"Of course, it's a bad thing. He lied to me about the party two years ago to get close to me and then he stills asks me on a date even though I'm clearly ignoring his messages." I complain.

"He doesn't know why you are avoiding him so he doesn't even know what he did wrong. And he's probably missed you and just wants to spend some time with you."

Not when he asked me on a date like he's doing me a favour.

"Well, that's his problem." I drop my phone on my laps and fold my arms. "No matter what he says I'm not going on a date with him."

"So you will just keep avoiding him?"

I throw him a dirty look, "Don't tell me you want me to go on a date with him?" I ask, glaring at him.

He chuckles but doesn't look fazed, "I am just saying you need to talk to him about this and hear what he has to say. Demand an apology then you can decide if you don't want to talk to him again.

"Ugh!" I let out an exasperated breath. Peter is right and I do have to speak to him.

I glance down at my phone and decide to send him a text before I change my mind.

Me: We need to talk.

I stare at my text and quickly switch off my data so I don't get to see his response right away. And I raise my head up to find Peter looking at me yet again, but this time, intently, like he's thinking.

He doesn't look away when I find him looking so I raise my eyebrow in form a question.

"What changed?" He finally speaks but the question he asked out of the blue is confusing.

"What do you mean what changed?" I ask, clearly not understanding his question.

"I feel like your feelings towards John is bordering on hate at the moment." He continues.

I know I would rather not talk to John and I find him annoying at the moment but do I hate him?

"Hate is a strong word." I mumble.

"But you would clearly have reacted differently if you have not fallen for Michael, right?"

"I don't know..." I start to answer until my mind replays his question.

"...fallen for Michael, right?"

Fallen for Michael.

Fallen.

"What do you mean fallen for Michael?" I ask, almost defensively.

If this is how easily others read me, then does this mean even Michael knows I'm falling in love with him?

He shrugs and responds, "Well, am I wrong? Aren't you falling in love with him?"

If I admit it to Peter, then I'm probably confirming it for all of them who is speculating. Including Michael.

"No." I lie, refusing to meet Peter's eyes but I catch the knowing look in it. No matter what he is thinking, I can't let anyone know about my feelings for Michael. Not when there's still a lot to be cleared before I can take that leap.

"There's still hope then." Peter grins and then moves towards me before I can reply. Every train of thought at his words vanishes as he approaches me, my eyes widening with every steps he takes.

"What- what are you trying to do?" I ask, suddenly scared that everything Michael had warned me about him might come to pass.

He pulls the towel that's beside me and raises it up, "Your hair is still wet. I just want to dry it up for you."

"Oh." I respond, feeling stupid. "You don't have to though."

The last word ends with the towel on my head as he begins to clean regardless. I let out a tentative breath as he gathers my braids and wraps the towel around it.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" He asks, without leaving my hair.

Yes.

"Not really. It's just weird." I reply instead and he chuckles.

"I'm being weird, right?"

Is that a rhetorical question or am I meant to answer?

"You don't have to reply because I actually know the answer to that question." He continues. "But I guess this is what happens to people like me in this kind of situation. They want to get closer to that special someone any opportunity they get because they might never have the chance again."

I almost turn around to look at him after those words but he places his hands on my shoulder to stop me and continue to clean through my braids.

First he is acting weird and now he is saying strange things.

Is this happening because of his family's death anniversary?

"You know, I really, really like the braids you do. I've always wondered what it will feel like to run my hands through it." He continues and my eyes widen.

What the hell is he saying?

I turn to look at him this time and to tell him that what he just said could mean another thing if it wasn't coming from him to me but my words get caught in my throat when I see the look in his eyes.

He is looking at me with unchecked desire and the meaning of everything he has been saying and the way he is behaving comes crashing down on me.

He likes me! Peter likes me!!

At that realisation, I sit there stunned, not knowing how to react, what to say and what to do. But I guess I don't need to worry because Peter suddenly smiles at me and stands.

"I think the rain has stopped falling and a lot of people might start getting worried. Let's get you home." He announces, still smiling and I can only nod in response.

He takes the tray he brought into the living room into his kitchen leaving me to think about my discovery.

But I could be wrong.

I mean, I might be over thinking things and reading meaning into things that are actually meaningless, right?

My phone rings again and I pick it up from my laps to see Michael calling. I sigh and drop it back on my legs. Right now, I need to sort out my thoughts and find out what is true and what is not. Maybe I'll talk to Michael when I'm settled in bed later.

Peter comes back into the living room and grabs his car-keys from besides the AC remote on one of the table.

"Are you ready?" He asks and I nod.

I then notice that something has shifted between us. He isn't meeting my eye anymore and I'm hardly replying to him. Things have suddenly become awkward.

He helps me with my crutches and makes sure I'm balanced with it before leading me to the door. I put on my slippers at the entrance and enter into his compound. It's still drizzling slightly outside.

He opens his jeep with the jeep's key remote and asks me to enter into it while he locks the door to his house. I do as he says and wait for him in his car until he is done.

I can't help remembering how it was when I just arrived at his house and he had lifted me to the entrance. We had laughed and talked and I honestly prefer that to this stiffness that has suddenly fallen between us now.

He enters the car and smiles at me, "Let's get going."

"Yeah." I reply with a smile of my own and he starts the engine of his jeep.

***

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Until next time,

Hikmah.