The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Ikpe compound. Chiburuoma sat on a low stool, snapping beans into a bowl while Baby and Manu chased each other around the yard with sticks. Glory leaned against the wooden rail of the veranda, trying to tune out the laughter and noise.
"Glory Ikpe," Mama Ekaette called from inside, her voice carrying. "Come and tell me who that fine young man was, the one that carried your load in the market yesterday. People said they saw you two."
Glory froze. Heat crept up her neck as Chiburuoma's head snapped up, eyes glittering with mischief.
"Ah! So it's already spreading?" Chiburuoma grinned, tossing a handful of beans into the bowl. "I told you, this town has long ears. Desmond Etim is the name, right?"
Baby stopped running long enough to shout, "Aunty Glory has a boyfriend!" before collapsing into laughter. Manu, not understanding, repeated, "Boyfriend! Boyfriend!" until Chituga smacked the back of his head.
Glory buried her face in her hands. "It's nothing like that. We only met by chance. He helped me carry things, that's all."
Chiburuoma wasn't convinced. "Hmm. So a man you haven't seen in years suddenly appears, carries your load, and even takes your number? If that is nothing, then I want that kind of nothing."
Before Glory could respond, the gate creaked. Abraham stepped in, holding a small bag. His shirt clung to his back with sweat, and the tired slump of his shoulders suggested he had been walking for a while.
"Good evening," he greeted, setting the bag down.
Baby rushed forward, tugging at his trousers. "Uncle Abe! Aunty Glory has a boyfriend!"
The words hit like a stone skipping across still water. Abraham blinked, then looked at Glory. She opened her mouth, flustered, but Chiburuoma burst out laughing, filling the silence.
"Don't mind them," she said. "These children hear one thing and turn it into a whole story. Glory only met an old friend."
Abraham gave a short nod, but something in his expression shifted. He handed the bag to Chiburuoma without another word and excused himself, mumbling something about having work to finish.
Glory watched him go, a pang of unease twisting in her stomach.
---
Later that evening, Abraham sat on the wooden bench outside his room, the hum of crickets thick in the night air. He stared at the ground, lost in thought.
"You're sulking," a voice announced.
He didn't have to look up. Emperor dropped heavily beside him, a bottle of beer in hand, the grin already plastered across his face.
"I'm not sulking," Abraham said flatly.
"You are. Don't argue." Emperor took a long swig, then leaned closer. "I heard what happened at the compound. Desmond has entered the chat, my brother. And from what I saw yesterday, he's not playing friendly."
Abraham clenched his jaw. "They were just talking."
"Talking?" Emperor laughed so loudly that a neighbor's dog barked in response. "My guy, if you call that talking, then what do you call romance? That one was wooing her in broad daylight."
Abraham stayed silent, but his hands tightened into fists on his knees.
Emperor nudged him with an elbow. "See, let me tell you the truth. Desmond is smooth. He's confident, works in oil servicing, dresses like he owns the town. If you keep folding your arms, Glory will be gone before you even say good morning."
Abraham exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the darkness.
"You like her, don't you?" Emperor pressed.
The silence stretched. Then, in a low voice, Abraham admitted, "I don't know what I feel."
Emperor smirked. "Liar. Your face yesterday at the market betrayed you. But no wahala. Keep pretending. Just know that Desmond won't wait."
---
At the compound, Glory lay awake on her mat, staring at the ceiling. The words from earlier replayed in her mind — Baby's teasing, Chiburuoma's laughter, Abraham's quick exit.
Why had he left so abruptly? Why hadn't he even looked at her?
She turned on her side, hugging her pillow tightly. Desmond's smile had been flattering, yes, but it was Abraham's silence that lingered, gnawing at her more than she wanted to admit.