The Ru Effect

Chapter thirty five

As soon as we step into the familiar warmth of our home, I’m greeted by a wave of nostalgia that nearly takes my breath away.

The air is thick and warm, carrying that unmistakable scent of Lagos—earthy, spicy, and a bit of diesel from the streets.

It’s funny how comforting it feels, like being wrapped in an old blanket you didn’t know you missed.

The front door, tall and intricately designed with polished wood and brass handles, swings open, revealing the grandeur of the mansion.

Inside, the soaring ceilings, gleaming marble floors, and expansive staircase immediately make the space feel both luxurious and familiar.

The grand chandelier in the foyer sparkles in the soft afternoon light, casting delicate shadows on the walls, while the rich mahogany furniture that lines the hallway brings a sense of timeless elegance.

It’s a house that has always felt larger than life—yet still, somehow, feels like home.

My mother’s face appears almost instantly, a radiant smile lighting up her features as she comes toward us. She stands at the center of it all, her presence as commanding as the house itself.

I’m swept into her arms first, feeling her warmth as she hugs me tightly. I catch a whiff of her familiar perfume, a floral scent she’s worn for as long as I can remember.

"Welcome home, my darlings!" Her voice is soft, yet it carries that underlying strength, the same strength that’s kept our family grounded for years.

My mother is beautiful, truly. Her dark skin gleams in the soft light of the foyer, and despite being in her early forties, she hardly looks like she’s aged a day.

Sometimes I always wonder about how my father, a urhobo man who had grown up in the south met my mother a Yoruba woman who had grown up in the west.

I never asked cause my mother believes it wasn't necessary.

Her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes make her look regal, like a queen in her own right.

Her hair is neatly pulled back into a low bun, and her posture is as elegant as ever, as if she were born with a crown on her head. There’s something timeless about her, the way she holds herself, as if age simply doesn’t apply to her.

Even now, as she lets go of me to pull Tejiri into a hug, I can’t help but admire her. Every movement she makes, every smile, radiates an effortless grace.

I hope I can carry myself with that same elegance one day.

"I’ve missed you both so much," she says, her voice soft but full of emotion. "It’s not the same when the house is quiet."

Behind her, the maids move swiftly, their soft footsteps barely audible on the marble floors as they take our luggage, ushering it upstairs without a word.

The house, with its spacious rooms and towering ceilings, seems to absorb every sound, giving the space a tranquil, almost reverent feel.

As we step further inside, the whirring sound of the cool air from the air conditioner with the familiar scent of home—jollof rice simmering on the gas cookers, faintly mixed with the fresh citrus scent of cleaning products.

The kitchen is expansive, gleaming with modern appliances and spacious countertops, while the long dining table nearby is set under large windows that overlook the sprawling garden outside. Everything feels… right.

“Mum, where’s Dad?” I ask, noticing the absence of his usual deep voice echoing through the halls.

“He had to leave for a business trip last night,” she explains with a slight sigh. “But don’t worry, your brother and his family will be here for Christmas. They’ll be arriving in just a few days.”

My heart lifts at the thought. I haven’t seen my brother,Tom in what feels like forever, and the idea of spending Christmas with him, his wife, and their two kids fills me with excitement. It’s been too long since we were all together under one roof.

“I can’t wait to see them,” I say, smiling. I can already picture the chaos of the kids running through the halls, laughter filling every room, bouncing off the tall ceilings and echoing down the corridors.

Tejiri yawns beside me, rubbing her eyes as she stretches. “I think I’m going to crash for a bit,” she says, giving Mum a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m exhausted.”

Mum nods, watching as Tejiri drags herself upstairs toward her room, her footsteps disappearing down the long hallway leading to our private wing of the mansion. I don’t blame her; the flight was long, and Tejiri’s always the first to feel the effects of jet lag.

"I'm making jollof rice, your favorite" my mother beams at me.

“I’ll join you” I tell Mum, eager to soak up every moment of being back home.

The house may be grand, almost overwhelming in its luxury and space, but with each step I take deeper into its familiar rooms, it feels more like the haven it has always been.

There’s something comforting about its stillness, something that wraps itself around you like a protective shield. This is home, in all its elegance and warmth.

After making the jollof rice with Mum, the familiar scent of tomatoes and spices filling the kitchen, we settle down at the dining table to eat together.

The table is long and expansive, but we sit close, keeping the space between us warm and intimate.

The golden light from the chandelier above casts a soft glow over everything, making the moment feel more special than I expected.

"How’s school, Kobiruo?" Mum asks, her voice gentle yet inquisitive as she scoops a generous portion of jollof onto her plate.

I smile as I take a bite, the rich flavor instantly comforting. “It’s been good,” I say between bites, savoring the taste. "A bit overwhelming at times, but I’m managing."

She nods, her dark eyes studying me like she always does, as if she can read between the lines of what I’m saying.

"I'm sure you've been managing well" she says, her voice filled with that quiet pride she rarely shows openly. "I knew you’d handle it."

For a moment, we eat in comfortable silence, the soft clinking of utensils the only sound in the grand dining room.

It feels nice to be back, to be sitting here with her. There’s something about being home that just makes everything feel easier, like the weight of the world isn’t as heavy when you’re surrounded by the familiar.

As we finish up our plates, Mum wipes her mouth delicately with a napkin before looking over at me again. "Oh, by the way," she says, her tone lighter, "Mary’s back from school too. I know you’ve missed her."

My eyes light up at the mention of Mary. "She’s back? I can’t wait to see her." The thought of reuniting with my best friend brings a rush of excitement.

While all my friends came and go, Mary was always a constant.

But even as I smile at the thought of seeing her again, there’s a faint tug at the back of my mind, something I can’t quite shake.

Or rather, someone. Grey eyes flash in my memory, unbidden, and suddenly, I find myself missing him—missing River.

It’s ridiculous, really. I’m home, surrounded by everything familiar and comfortable, yet barely a day after, a part of me longs for the quiet intensity that only River seems to bring.

I push the thought aside for now, focusing on Mum as she continues talking, but deep down, I can’t ignore that ache in my chest. I didn’t think I’d miss him this much.