Chapter Fifteen 

Dele stared at Tiwa. She stared back in full force.

'Where else do you think I'll be going?'

'Come back.'

Dele starred at his wife and blinked a few times. Both his eyes and ears were deceiving him or something.

'What did you say?' It was not an intimidating question. If anything, it made it clear that Dele refused to believe his ears.

'I said that you should come back. I don't want you to go.'

It has happened. Tiwa is possessed!

Tiwa walked moved towards him until she stood an arm's length away from him.

'You don't want me to go?'

'Yes'

She had a small smile. Dele was utterly perplexed, which explained the confused smile from forming on his lips.

'I promised to give Mama Rotimi her baskets today, but I have not finished with the last one and...'

She waved her oil-covered hands at him.

To say he was disappointed would be an understatement. For some odd reason, Dele enjoyed being curious about why Tiwa wanted him to stay. He wished for a different affirmative. Her answer brought down that joy.

'You want me to weave baskets for you?'

'No. Not baskets. Just one,' Tiwa batted her lashes at him. Her eyes were communicating her plea as they usually did.

'No, I have to be at the farm.'

'Dele please.'

Tiwa's left hand brushed his bare arm. It was free from the kernel oil, unlike her right. A chill ran down Dele's spine, and he knew it was not just the morning breeze.

'I have to go.'

'I promised her that I'll...'

'I will come back early.'

That reply was enough to silence his wife.

'How are your hands?'

'I do not feel any pain on the left one anymore.'

In that queue, he took her left hand in his, observing it against the light coming from the door behind them. He looked at the back of the hand and sighed. It was not impaired, and she wiggled her fingers to show him that she could move it.

'Are you sure you would make it on time?' Tiwa eyed him.

Dele could not blame her for re-inforcing the question. He had never promised her anything. She had no reason to trust his word, but then again, she had no reason to doubt him.

'I promise.'

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Tiwa sat on a bench and watched the sunset. Dele bound to be home anytime from now.

It was as she had thought. She could see her husband far ahead, walking towards the house.

She retained her seat when he greeted her. Tiwa looked ahead as she had when he was approaching her. Now that he stood beside her, she still directed her gaze far ahead.

'Tiwa,' he called to her. She did not reply.

'Tiwa.' He must have thought she did not hear him, but he was wrong. She heard him.

'Tiwalola,' He called her by her full name, that always seemed to get her attention, but not this time.

She felt his soft tap on her shoulder. It was not entirely fruitless. Tiwa now followed him with her eyes. Dele knew that his wife did not enjoy using words.

'What is it?'

He lowered himself to squat in front of her like he had done the night before. She directed her eyes to the ground to avoid him.

'Tiwa, tell me what is wrong.'

She stared into his eyes, and that was when it clicked. He had promised and failed.

'I am sorry I did not come as planned.'

She continued to look at him. It then dawned on Dele that silence was her signal of anger.

'We will make it tomorrow,' Dele said.

Tiwa still did not reply.

'I promise.'

'You promised this morning, but did you come?' She murmured her response.

'This time, I won't go out.' Tiwa's shocked face let Dele know she was not expecting that reply. When he smiled at her expression, she changed it back to the previous one of mild anger.

'Are you still angry?'

'Yes'

'I brought some roasted ram for you.'

Tiwa turned her face in the opposite direction as if to tell her husband she was not interested.

'I will be going inside,' Dele turned dramatically, 'since you don't want it, I have to eat it alone.'

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'Okay, I'll take it.'

Tiwa stood at the door. She had decided not to miss out. She looked into the room and saw her husband, the parcel open beside him, and a keg of wine on the floor.

'Come,' Tiwa did not argue as she went to sit by her husband on the bed.

Their conversation was varied over many topics. It was smooth sailing until Dele asked Tiwa if she ate earlier that day.

'Your mother made me pounded yam and Efo riro.'

'My mother!'

'Yes,' Tiwa smiled a sly smile as she reached for another piece of ram.

'How?'

'I went to give Mama Rotimi the other baskets that I had already made.'

She continued to speak when she saw that Dele was attentive. 'Coincidentally, your mother was there. She asked me how I burnt my had.'

'And then?' Dele wanted the full story.

'I told her you burnt me.'

'Why?'

Tiwa laughed at her husband's horror-filled face. Everybody knows the horrors of vexing a Yoruba mother.

'Isn't that what happened?'

Tiwa was about to reach for the last piece of meat when Dele beat her to it.

'I was about to take that one,' Tiwa whined.

'Do you know what you have done? My mother would probably have my head.' Dele said. Tiwa did not give mind to what he was saying. Her eyes were on her goal, the last piece.

'Give me!' She was about to grab it from him when he stretched his had out, away from her.

'No.'

'You said you brought it for me,' again, Tiwa attempted to retrieve her trophy from her husband. This time, she pounced on him, striving to get the meat, and at the same time trying to protect the back of her right hand.

Before either of them could realize it, she was straddling Dele!

Tiwa reached her aim and smiled triumphantly at her husband below her.

She took the meat from him and savored every bite. She even made exaggerated moans, trying to show him that she enjoyed every flavor the juicy mutton had to offer.

She did not think about how quickly Dele had accepted defeat. She had not even deciphered their current position yet.

Dele was not one to remain quiet after arguments, even when it was small bickering. His silence let her know that something was out of the ordinary. A few moments were enough.

Tiwa's heart felt like it was constricting. She was a usually silent person, but this time the reason for the silence was foreign.

'I...' She did not have anything to say at that moment, however, wished to voice something out.

Her eyes refused to stray away from his. Dele's eyes did not leave her either.

It was then Dele began to close the minuscule distance between them.

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Hey Rosies,

Who else likes roasted meat?

I just wanted this chapter out as soon as possible. 

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Bye Bye,

Mwah.❤🌹❤

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