HER

25. Love And Concessions

Richard and his dad never had a good relationship. Not with him delving into politics and having to do things that Richard did not approve of. Not that he would care what his son thought. Richard never really thought of his father as a role model. I mean sure he had money, and the source itself was questionable, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it he knew that what his father did was not okay

Richard was a kid when he first heard of his father's escapades. He would say it set him off but only he could take responsibility for his actions and immaturity in his life. His heard his father speak to some senate members in his study about someone who was drumming up trouble and had to go. And two days later the EFCC chairman was shot in what the media covered as a robbery gone wrong.

Purely circumstantial, obviously but Richard had never forgotten the look on his face when he'd asked him. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Of course his father had lied to his face when he was ten, but over the years it had become more and more glaring. The things he did, the bodyguards that were always around him, the constant hiding, the secret meetings,  his father wasn't a politician but the person he sided always seemed to win. He controlled the politics like that, he supported whoever he liked and in turn for the next four years his business boomed and he made billions.

The first time Shola Johns had openly admitted to doing the things his son had not so subtly been accusing him of, Richard was eighteen years old. He was flipping out as usual, he didn't remember what he had done then, but he knew he was probably acting like a rebellious teen again. His father had yelled obscenities at him and he yelled back in his usual manner calling his father a murderer and how he had no right to judge his actions. Richard had gone on a rant about his family and how much he hated living with them. His father had slapped him hard across the first for the first time in his life.
He had gone on to agree to every thing Richard had accused him of. Saying that he agreed that he'd killed people and done 'a few' bad stuff in his life but he did them for his family. To make sure his wife and child have the life that he didn't get to have.

Richard scoffed at the thought. His mother wasn't a pushy lady. She never had been, she would have been content with whatever he had to offer. Even he had told the story of how she'd met him when he was still a manual labourer for a construction firm. If she didn't care when he didn't even have good command of the English language why would she care when he had a university degree and a good job. His greed landed him in the position he was and nothing else.

But the day his father came into his room to speak to him a few hours before the wedding, Richard had listened with apt attention.
"I know you hate me" his father had begun, Richard smiled cocking his head to the side as if to say 'maybe a little'
"I just want to tell you, I may be a terrible person in your eyes but I am a good husband"
Richard could agree to that fact. His father had never cheated on his mum or treated her badly not like other men his age. He didn't take a different girl to bed every night.
Part of him wanted to know why.
But he wasn't about to ask. Chances were that if he kept the conversation going long enough his father would tell him himself

"Your mother met me when I was a construction worker. I had four shirts and a pair of jeans by then. I didn't have a degree, she was 18. I was 22. She was in the process of getting one. Her father hated me, he was an engineer on the site. He didn't like that his daughter was hanging out with a labourer. I tried to impress her, so much. Ipso every day I would look up new words in the dictionary or something.... that's how I taught myself English. I lied to her,  I told her I was writing JAMB. I wasn't. She asked me what course, I told her Engineering. That night I took all my savings, which wasn't much. We only got paid a thousand naira or a thousand five hundred day. I bought the jamb for and I started studying for it. My WAEC result was great. I barely made it. C's and D's decorated my result. I didn't even think I would pass it. But I did. I got called for the aptitude test. By this time I was more confident. She got me a lot of past questions to use and I did it. Next thing I know I'm offered admission and I'm worrying about the fees. We made it work I  can't count the number of time that she bought clothes for me, or gave me money to get a haircut or even made food for me. It was a lot. She stayed. Not many people with her background would have done that. I used to say to myself immediately I graduated and got a new job I'll marry this girl. And I did.
Why I would never cheat on your mum, because she has seen me at the lowest point of my life and still loved me. Many of the friends I have these days wouldn't do that. They'll abandon me in a second,  if then police comes looking for me. I already made up my mind that I was never going to leave your mum, no matter what she did. I'd always take her back.
Richard, you're a grown up now. I'll tell you this, your life is going to be a function of the choices you make.
Rahmat is a good girl. If you fuck this up it's on you, because for some reason she actually loves you. I'll tell you two things.  It might not work for you but it did for me,
1. Listen. And not just to what she says, listen to what she doesn't say. For women most times it's not about the thing they say, it's about the thing that they are trying to say but cannot and so they say this other thing and expect you to decode the underlying meaning. Don't worry you'll understand me when you start living with your wife.
2. You are going to argue like crazy because you're two different individuals. Be patient
And as a bonus point. Never let her cry alone. It doesn't matter if it's over an phone call, stay with her. never let her cry alone, even if you're the reason she's crying..."

Never let her cry alone.

That was the sentence that was ringing in Richard's mind and he followed Rahmat to the ladies room. He had noticed she was uncomfortable and her eyes were glossed over with tears threatening to spill, and he knew she was going to cry. So he followed her.

Rahmat was gasping for breath that's how much she was crying. She was tapping her chest slowly as if she was telling herself to stop crying. He hugged her tighter as he soothed her. His voice sounding not more that an audible whisper.

"It's okay"

Somehow that seemed to calm her down a little.  She pulled away her eyes red and her head hurting. She squinted as he wiped the tears off her face.

"Coldstone?" He asked and she shifted

"Does this not bother you?" She asked.

He shook his head, "Homestly, No"

She eyed him moving to walk past him

"Wait, just listen. I'm not belitting they way you feel. She said it's not impossible.  That means we can still have children"

"Did you not hear the part about miscarriages and not carrying to term"

"I did." He said, "Ace, we're young. We still have a lot of things to achieve in our lives. And maybe we'll have children maybe we won't. Nothing is going to change the way I feel about you or our marriage. We have twenty maybe thirty years until we're fucking old and that's a long fucking  time. In the meantime, we'll have fun trying. If it happens, it happens.  If not, that's okay too. Okay?"

Rahmat nodded

"I love you" he said as she moved to hug him again and he pressed his lips against her forehead.
They walked out of the bathroom together. Richard holding her hand, she wanted to ask whether  they didn't have to go back to the doctor.  But she didn't.  Something else was on her mind.

"We're still going to Coldstone right?" She asked him.

He laughed, "Really?" He said as he shook his head, "Sure, junkie. Let's go feed your addiction"