Anwana paced around her brother's living room, hands pressed firmly against her waist. Her brows furrowed as she turned again and again, the sound of her slippers scratching the tiled floor.
"I don't think it's his family, brother Ekere," she said at last, her voice softer than her restless steps. "I know they hurt me one way or another, but the guy… he has made peace."
"Don't tell me you're defending that boy?" Ekere shot back, standing abruptly from the cushioned chair. His tall frame unfolded like a shadow rising against the lamplight. The anger in his eyes was sharp, but beneath it was the unmistakable glint of fear,fear for his sister.
He was a handsome man, the kind people turned twice to look at. And of course, the brother to a beautiful sister would be nothing less. His voice carried authority, the kind that had protected Anwana for years.
"Bro…" She hesitated, rubbing her palms together, then exhaled. "We talked. And he apologized. I just feel I'm hurting him more than I should. He's been ignorant all this time, very ignorant. But please, just give him a chance—a chance to prove himself."
From the doorway, Grace's gentle voice drifted in. "My love…"
They turned. Grace stepped forward, her wrapper tied neatly, her hair pinned back in a simple bun. She carried herself with grace that lived up to her name.
"Please, baby," she said, resting a hand on Ekere's arm. "We've been on this case for four years now. And where has it led us? More hurt. More wounds. Let her heal and make decisions for herself. Please."
Her words sank deep. Slowly, Ekere's shoulders relaxed, though his jaw remained tight.
"Please, brother… abeg," Anwana whispered, her eyes glistening.
He looked between his wife and his sister. Finally, he sighed, his anger ebbing like a tide retreating to the sea.
"Just a chance. If he is serious about you, we'll know soon."
Anwana nodded, relief flooding her chest.
**
"Come in, Mr. Tade," the doctor said, motioning toward the chair across from him.
Tade closed the door quietly and lowered himself into the seat, his chest tight, his fists clenched on his knees. His eyes begged for answers.
The doctor adjusted his glasses, flipping open the file. His tone was calm, but heavy with caution.
"Your mother's collapse was caused by stress-induced arrhythmia. Simply put, her heart rhythm was disturbed due to extreme emotional stress and exhaustion. The shortness of breath and loss of consciousness were warning signs."
Tade's heart dropped. His throat felt dry. "Is… is it permanent?"
The doctor shook his head. "No, it isn't permanent. With proper treatment, medication, and lifestyle adjustments, she will recover fully. But she must avoid stress. Her heart cannot take another shock like that."
He leaned forward, his voice firm.
"She'll need to start on a mild beta-blocker to regulate her heart rhythm and blood pressure. I'll also prescribe sedatives for when her anxiety spikes. Strict rest is necessary. No arguments, no raised voices, no family drama. And her diet—" he pushed a paper toward Tade "—low salt, more vegetables, no late-night meals."
Tade clenched the paper, guilt searing his chest. I was the one who shouted. I was the one who broke her down.
The doctor's voice softened. "Mr. Abebanjo, she doesn't need perfection from you. She needs peace of mind. Give her that, and she will heal faster than medicine can."
Tade nodded, his throat thick with tears.
When Tade stepped into the ward again, his mother stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Her face was pale, fragile against the white sheets, but her gaze carried warmth.
"Mom…" Tade whispered, grabbing her hand. "I'm here. I'm so sorry."
Her lips trembled. "The doctor told me… it was my heart, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Tade said, his voice cracking. "But you'll be fine. They said it's stress… and I caused it. I accused you. I hurt you. I failed you."
Her hand curled weakly around his.
"No, my son. Pain blinded us both. But listen… if that girl truly brings you peace, don't let my bitterness steal it from you. She may not have been my choice, but if she is your healing, then… then she is mine too."
Tade broke down, pressing his forehead against her hand. His tears soaked her skin. For the first time in years, they wept together, not as enemies, but as mother and son.
Over the next three weeks, she slowly recovered at home. The medication steadied her heartbeat, and her laughter—though faint, began to return.
But while she healed, trouble knocked.
One afternoon, Aisha arrived unannounced. She swept into the living room, perfume heavy, her steps confident.
"Tade," she said smoothly, her eyes darting toward his recovering mother, "I came to check on Mama. And also, to talk about our marriage. My family has already begun discussions about the date."
Tade froze. His fists clenched.
"What marriage, Aisha? I have not paid your bride price. There is no engagement, no bond between us!"
Aisha's lips curved into a smile. "Maybe not yet. But soon. Our families are already aligning. Why fight it?"
His mother sat up weakly, startled by the tension. "Aisha…" she whispered, her chest heaving.
"Don't stress yourself, Mom," Tade said, his voice like steel. He turned to Aisha, fury burning in his eyes.
"This nonsense ends here."
***
A week later, despite the doctor's caution, his mother insisted on leaving the house.
"I must go see her," she said, adjusting her headscarf. "If I die tomorrow, let it be said that I sought her forgiveness."
And so, with Tade and Amara by her side, she arrived at Anwana's brother's house.
When Anwana opened the door, her breath caught. She froze, staring at the older woman. Ekere's protective gaze sharpened, his stance rigid. Grace held his arm gently, silently urging him to listen.
Tade's mother stepped forward, tears filling her eyes.
"Anwana… child… forgive me. I was blind. I let pain make me cruel. I didn't see the wound you carried. If I had known, I would have fought for you, not against you."
Anwana's lips trembled, her chest heaving. Slowly, she stepped forward. Her hands hovered, then rested gently on the woman's shoulders.
" I .....forgive you. I just needed to hear those words."
They fell into each other's arms, their sobs breaking the walls of years of pain. Ekere's shoulders loosened, his eyes moist though he said nothing. Grace smiled faintly, relief softening her face.
Tade, standing at a distance, felt a weight fall off his chest.
Just as the air shifted into peace, Tade's phone rang. He answered impatiently, only to hear his uncle's stern voice:
"Tade, enough of your stubbornness. The bride price for Aisha has been prepared. The elders will visit her family this weekend. You had better be ready."
The phone slipped from his hand. Anwana's eyes widened, shock flooding her face. His mother stiffe
ned, her newfound strength tested.
Tade's fists curled, his voice shaking with fury.
"Over my dead body."