Tilting her head back, she held the bottle to her gapped lips. The upturn of the bottle of vodka resulted into nothing dropping on her tongue. Lines creased on her banging forehead. She shook the glass container that was abode to an expensive drink but nothing came out of it. She brought down the bottle to her drooping eyes to notice it was empty. With a tired sigh, she left the transparent glass rolling down the room.

There is only one way to clear her head, to let the bad memories pass like a music on the radio she does not like and that was drinking. What she had been doing since the day she left the doctor's office. She wanted to get up, walk down the hallway to get another bottle of drink but her body's not moving the way she wanted it to. It's exhausted. But she needs another drink.

Slurring unreasonable words, she used the bed post as an aid to rise up. Her body swayed left and right when she stood on two wobbly legs. She exhales again. The images before her eyes were merging into one another, becoming twos and threes. Her brains sent signals that told her what to do. This time, her body listened. She moved.

The floor felt like the deck of a boat flung side to side by a rainstorm. She stumbled down the hallway, most time, using the wall as a support for her unbalanced body. Her head spun in a funny way. Every step meet the sea blue floor like the clash of feet and marble was not fully projected. So she lurched and tripped. Now, she rested on the bar counter, more exhausted than ever. Her shaky hand reached for a new bottle of vodka. She had not bother about taking a swifter. Instead, she took a swig of the colourless substance that influenced her. She wanted to drown her sorrow in alcohol but she kept drowning in the sorrow. There was emptiness inside her. She needed the drink to tune down the volume of her thoughts but it seem to increase them.

Alcohol in hand, she slouched to the floor of the bar. She sighed again, feeling the buss in her blood stream just what she wanted. A child was just what she wanted. A child. Just one child. She did everything in her power to get that child. IVF and many medications but nothing worked. She kept having the same result over and over again. What wrong did she ever do? She did not abort any pregnancy. She was careful during her youthful days not to do anything that will hinder her from giving birth. Where did she do or go wrong?

"Jesus Christ! Damilola!" Someone shouted. "What have you done to yourself?" She slumped against the wall, warm liquid raining down her cheeks. There was quick sound of footsteps. "Dammy, you can't do this to yourself" Hands came around her.

"Let me be" She slurred, throwing those hands away. The harsh scent of alcohol emitted her breath, drifting into Tanwa's nostrils. Tanwa choked and grimaced.

"I can't. Drinking won't solve the problem. How much alcohol have you taken? You are wasted"

"Tanwa, I was not pregnant. The doctor said some stupid medical terms that were the reasons behind those symptoms"

"I know but you have to pull yourself together. If you want to go to an orphanage and get a child, you have to be sober. No one will give a child to someone who drinks and you are not an alcoholic. Don't become one now"

"I had hope. I did. What wrong did I ever do?" Her words overlapped against one another but Tanwa understood them. "Why does my body have to keep failing me? I just want a baby. Just one child! Just one!" She lifted a trembling finger.

"And you will have your child. You will hold your child"

"How will I have a child when I can't get pregnant? How?"

"Adoption"

Aunty Dammy snickered. "You all do not understand. Do you? I don't know how this will make me sound but I want my own child. A child I will carry and bear. I know there are lot of children out there who need a family but I want a child with my own laugh and my husband's eyes. A child with my husband's face and my nose. A child that have my gene. Do you understand?"

"I understand you"

"You don't" She shook her head.

"I do. But what can you do when you can't have a child the natural way? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But you have other options. You can be a mother, a great one. We will visit an orphanage, try to relate with the children and you will adopt the one your heart reaches out for the most. You will adopt that child and be the great mother you want to be. Damilola, you will have a child of your own. You will be an amazing mother and I will be there to watch you become one"

"What will I ever do without you Tanwa?"

"I think absolutely nothing" "They laughed.

"Come here" Tanwa gathered her into her arms where she cried.

-----

This was one of the moments he misses his elder brother. After his death, he did not have close friends. There are friends but not the one he could share his problems and worries to. Khalifah was always a phone call away. Despite his sense of humour and flippancy during serious situations, he had the best words to offer. At the moment, there's no one to share his problem and worries to. He's alone with his raging and confusing thoughts. What will Khalifah say when he tell him he thinks he's falling stronger, faster and harder for Osas?

It's been days they have been apart, a little bit after two weeks since her daughter has been diagnosed with cancer and they seem closer than usual. They are always online, talking and chatting. The closeness between them is getting stronger and the feelings he feels for her are becoming more intense. Whenever he does not speak with her, there is always an itch to. He does not concentrate and there is discomfort within him. After his family, Osas is next. She's beginning to mean so much including her daughter. That little four year old, Esosa, is full of wonders.

Jafar's phone buzzed in his hand as he settled into the sofa. He had a very stressful and demanding day that wants him to end up in bed in an empty stomach. But the intensity of the hunger will wake him up later at night. He kicked off his slides and lifted a leg over the arm of the sofa. His clothes rustled to the gentle movement. He grimaced at the caller ID. Atikah's calling again.

He's not sure of what she want but he thinks it's best they keep their relationship nothing more their friends, not close friends. He does not like the constant call and messages. It's beginning to make him feel uneasy. What will Mustapha think when he finds out his friend and a woman he wants to make his wife are chatting consistently? The discomfort grew when he heard his mother talking to his father about Atikah being the perfect choice for him. She's yet to tell him anything about marriage but it will happen one day. She's not the kind to pester him about getting married but she had been dropping hints. Like when he's going out, she says in a teasing way that he's going to meet her future daughter in law. "Bring home a good woman" She will shout after him. "I am not getting younger"

This became one of the main reasons he seldom answer Atikah's call, just like tonight. He picks when he wants to and not when he need to. Mustapha is very possessive about Atikah because he's crazy for her. Jafar does not want to fight his friend because of a woman he's not interested in. But his conscience eats him up when he does that. Surely, she will feel hurt and neglected. It's the same way he will feel when he realises someone's avoiding him. When the call ended, he decided to give his mother a phone call.

His mother was her usual self. She did not fail to tell him how much she misses him and wants him to come back home. They laughed over some matters and she told him some gossip going on around her circle of friends and in the family. It was then she mentioned marriage. It was in her habitual calm but persuading tone. She is not getting any younger and she needs more grandchildren. From his marriage, it led to his late brother. May Allah forgive him. "Khalifah is not here again. It's only you I have. I want more grandchildren and another daughter in law, baba na. When will you bring a wife home?" He heard her sobs over the phone, quiet and muffled and he listened to it with a heavy heart. But what will he do when there is no woman yet? He tried to calm his mother down and told her Allah's time is the best. She should just be patient with him.

After his phone call with his mother, he called the one his heart called out to, the only woman who had evaded his thought when his mother spoke about marriage. When did he start seeing himself in marriage with her? He rubbed his eyes. But is that possible between them? There is this barrier between them, one that is huge and can't be broken. Even though they turn a blind eye to it, it will always be there and it will be something that will cause problem later. Osas picked the next call after the first went into voicemail.

"Hey" Came her husky voice.

He felt a smile on his lips, one that stretched to no end. "How are you?" He relaxed into the chair.

"Fine and you?" He heard her yawn loud.

"Tired"

"You sound as such" She giggled. "Was it stressful?"

In the quiet abode, his voice was barley a murmur. He laughed and listened as she did when he talks. She complained about work and spoke about Esosa disappearing from her room. She said she had been scared. She sure will be. Osas had always lose her composure at little things that happen to her daughter. It shows the amount of love she has for her, a love that has no end. He admires that about her, another thing that makes his admiration for her grow. Osas thought her daughter had disappeared or worse someone kidnapped her but it had not been like that. Esosa had left her room to tour the private wards where she met a teenager who was also fighting blood cancer. Esosa made a new friend. Children are always curious. The teenager had a relapse after she had been diagnosed cancer free. The cancer cells are back again.

"That scared me" Osas said. "I had wondered what I will do if Esosa is declared healthy just to have a relapse. I can feel that girl's mother's pain" She lamented, her voice gave away her anxiety. And he had words that calmed her down, words that made her laughed and he realised he loved the sound of it. It gladdens his heart to know he's the reason behind it.

"Osas" He called, her name rolling softly out of his lips with a nice hue of huskiness.

"Yes?" She replied.

There was a long pause. His heart walloped beneath his rib cage. He had so many unsaid words he wanted her to know, so much he wanted to confess. I think I am falling for you Osas. He wanted to say. "Nothing. I just miss you"

She laughed. He could sense she was blushing which caused him to smile. "I will be here when you come back"

"Sure you will" And then, I will finally take the big step. He thought.

-----

"That's the last shot for today!" Lola yelled which created murmurs and happy yells from those around. "You have all done a great job" she exhaled giving her camera away to an apprentice next to her.

Everyone shuffled around. The model got down from the staircase with the help of her stylist. Lola's bones cracked as she stretched out her hands and body. Jesus! Tiredness knocked on every part of her. She needs a bath then a good night rest. The portrait session began as early as seven in the morning and this was nearly ten at night. The portrait session was over but that was not all. They will have to pack and she still have to sit with her client and check out the last images that were taken.

It took another thirty minutes to wrap things up. As soon as she departed with her client, Lola headed out, her secretary on her heels.

"What is my schedule for tomorrow, Tiwa?" Lola asked, walking into the elevator. Tiwa stepped in behind her.

"You have a photo session by ten tomorrow. Today's photo session continues by four tomorrow. Your meeting with some client is scheduled for two and you will do your rounds by twelve after which you have a maternity session with Mrs Ezekiel"

"Is that all?"

"Yes ma'am. Oh!" Tiwa gasped earning a look from Lola. "Least I forget" She pushed back her glasses. A thing she does out of nervousness. "A call came in from a woman called Mrs Adichie. She requested for a photo session with you. An engagement photo session. She said her daughter would be getting married few months from now and a pre-wedding photo session is needed" The elevator chimed. Together, they stepped out. Lola lifted her head as they entered the lobby, her nose in the air.

"When is this supposed to take place?"

"She would like to have it happen on twenty eighth of this month"

"Let's see what happens. If I have a free time that day, fix it on that day and make sure she fills the booking form and pay in advance"

"Alright ma'am"

"Good work, Tiwa" They marched into the parking lot.

Despite it was nearly eleven at night, everywhere still bubbled with people. Cars drove in and out of the parking lot of the location. Their hoots blared in the busy air, a form of noise pollution. There was a bar located on the third floor, a reason to how busy that spot had gotten.

"Thanks ma'am" Tiwa smiled a little bit giddy at the comment.

"Alright then" Lola opened her car. "We shall see tomorrow. Have a good night rest" She got in.

"I will ma'am. Good night ma'am"

"Take care"

"I will, ma'am" Tiwa gave a little and backed away for her boss to shut the car door.

Lola exhaled relaxing into the comfortable red seat of her Range Rover. There was something so great about resting her back after spending over twelve hours working with little breaks in between. Her tired eyes ached. She pressed two fingers over her closed eyes as if to give them a gentle massage then lifted them up to stare. Tiredness had caused her body to give away to laziness with the strong urge for a relaxing bath and good sleep. She brought the car's engine to life before using her seat belt.

The photo session was a commercial photography. The designer, a woman in her early forties whose name is Bummi Basem, would release new bridal collection and it will soon get to the runway. That reminds her, she missed going to fashion weeks. She has to plan for one this year. At the thought, excitement rushed through her. That means spending more money and changing her wardrobe, Oh! She is going to buy right from the runway. When is Versace releasing the next collection of bags? She changed the gear to reverse and got the car into motion.

She does not want to know which part of the world the Fashion Show would take place, she would be getting there and no one would be stopping her. Last year, she attended Tokyo Fashion Week. The main reason for her trip to Tokyo. She remembered returning back from Tokyo and nearly having her head ripped off by her mother because of how much she spent. Instead of making things better, her father gave her more money which just added to her mother's anger.

The photo session with Bummi Basem would take three consecutive days. Day one and two are gone. By tomorrow, she would be done. It worth the pay though and the designer would be collecting what she paid for in return. Edited photos, an album, and portraits of 16x24, 20x30 and 24x36.

The reason she left home to live in a hotel despite working within Lagos was because the distance between the location and her home. It's just a forty-five minute drive but with the annoying traffic jam, she won't be getting there in two hours. She drove into the parking lot of the hotel.

Good thing she won't be seeing Joshua. His phone calls have been coming in and the arrogance she has did not allow her to pick up his call as well as reply his messages. He really needs to stop calling and texting her. He is causing more grief than she wishes for. Getting intimate with another man is a trauma she is trying to get over. Lola stepped into the elevator along with a couple who seemed to be fighting because the aura around them gave that away. But they were the least she cared about.

She is going to have a session with Doctor Ben the following day. Won't it be nice to let things out to him? He is the only one she really trust enough to tell her deepest secrets. When she's feeling so angry or frustrated, there is someone who's there to take that shit without criticising her. But that does not mean she was going to tell him about Tony's arrival. The elevator dinged when it got to her floor. She stepped out, sliding a hand through her braids. Lately, she rarely has an episode. But that does not mean she could stop her medications. Those medications are one thing that keep her safe. Like the night before, after Anthony had come and gone, she had a panic attack because another thing had happened between them. Then in came the tremor, palpitation, chest tightening, increased energy and racing thoughts. Lola closed her eyes as she halted next to the door to her hotel room willing her mind to forget one thing that wanted to drive her crazy. She had nearly exploded but had felt better when she smashed the flower vase against the wall, a thing she's paying for, and shouted, throwing insults at the lady who had come to deliver dinner. It could have been worse, however, she controlled herself. Lola swiped her card over the door lock. The door beeped before she opened it. Home sweet home.

----

The large doors opened to reveal a grand dining room. The table that sat in the middle of the majestic room was long and made of hard wood. Surrounding it were comfortable chairs from the same wood with cushion as seat. Covering the walls were new golden wallpapers and the fabric over the table was hand woven. The gold and white floor shimmered from perfect polish done by the same maids over the years. Hanging from the high white ceiling, right above the table, were glass chandeliers that gave the vast space bright lightening, spilling light over the polished silvery cutleries. The French doors at the end of the room were left ajar to let in the cool night breeze.

Each seat had a ceramic plate. Next to every plate stood a wine glass and tumbler with cutleries and excellently pleated napkins. The table was an array of different Nigerian delicacies that bathes the air of the room, overpowering the smell of lavenders and roses. What was missing were the guests. But not for long for their loud voices came closer every second.

They flocked in like guests who were present for a feast with the king. Their loud voices were a clustered murmurs. Everyone indulged in one conversation or the other. The one who led the group were Damijo and Rebecca both wide smiles and happy eyes.

"Mum, what have to done to the dining room?" Aunty Dammy shrieked getting her parents' attention.

"Yes mother, what have you done? This is different" Aaron asked, opening his hands.

The group halted while others still spoke in loud voices. Among the group were Joshua's family, Rosie, Lolu's younger sister and Amarachi's extravagant mother. She had her lips turned into a scorn, head high and thrown aside with an irritated look on her face. She looked regal in wrapper and blouse with her gele tied in a way that both ends were in different direction. Cynthia had wondered, who dress traditional to a family dinner?

"I changed the wallpaper and lights in preparation for the dinner" Rebecca replied. "This dinner is not just to bring our family together but to also celebrate"

"Celebrate what, grandma?" Tenny pushed herself forward.