Book Review: IyanuOluwa Olorode’s Love’s Direction

Nobody seems to understand Julia Onoja including the reader of the book. At the beginning of the story, she appeared too wild, tough, ruthless and very revengeful. During the funeral of her dad, her family members were praying for her absence at the ceremony and when she showed up, she wore very fanciful clothing not fit for a burial. She also laughed out loudly when the tribute of her dad was being read.

Aderinsola Cole was being haunted by a mistake he committed when he was much younger. Whatever he did to that lady was eating him up and preventing him from enjoying any relationship with the opposite sex. With conviction in his heart, he sets off to seek forgiveness from the woman he had wronged and to free himself to love again. Was he successful?

Sophia Azazi-Onoja seemed very powerful. With her wealth, power and fame, she seemed to be battling with a terminal disease. What did she do to badly sever her relationship with her daughter?

The reader is introduced to other remarkable characters in the ensuing chapters of the book which will make you wonder what happened in the past that had left them scarred. The reader is kept in suspense until the story unravels in several episodes of flashbacks, and then the actions of each character in the present becomes understandable.

The good

I loved how the story had a lot of strong characters. There were so many of them who were introduced with very compelling stories like Helen, Ibioso and the entire Hans-Okobo family, Veronica, Azuka, Ifedade, among others. The author did a fabulous job of giving us details of each of the characters that kept readers flipping through the pages to know how their stories would turn out.

The description of settings, and events including the funeral of Duoye, the court session with Douere, the scenes in the classroom and the church service with Eliora were vividly described and it felt like one was physically present in those moments.

I have been reading a lot of American Christian novels and Love’s Direction was set up in Nigeria/Africa. That got me excited because the language was sometimes in pidgin and other local ones that were translated in the endnotes. It was a breath of fresh air and made the story relatable at all levels.

The Lessons

This book is laden with several real-life lessons which were presented in a very captivating way (not shoved in your face). It sets one’s mind to several issues that we have probably swept under the carpet including how we behave towards our ‘unsaved’ friends when we are fortunate to accept Jesus. Do you push them far away because you are new in the faith and do not want to be tempted to sin? Or what?

Also, do you return to your first wife after you’ve married a second one because you have recently accepted Jesus?

Would you forgive a mother when you find out you were adopted about three decades ago and she had kept it a secret?

How about an uncle who raped you when you were little? Or a mother who ‘kills’ your baby because she thought you were young and had a whole life ahead of you? Or a lover who deserts you because he has met Christ?

There are several dilemmas in this book but the author, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, did a great job of providing suggestions on how to solve them which kept our minds reeling up till the last pages.

The bad

I felt the story ended too abruptly. Although the story ended well for some of the main characters, I felt I had been left on the edge, wondering what would happen to the others but readers are told that Love’s Direction is the first in the sequel and the story of the other characters will be continued in subsequent books.

I totally recommend this book to readers who may be looking for Christian fiction set in Africa that will compel you to free all those who have wronged you and, with the right kind of suspense and several other plots that it never gets boring.

Don’t forget to share your thoughts if you read or have already read this book.

**I was privileged to receive an advanced copy of this book. Love’s Direction will be released on April 4th, 2024. This and Love’s Beacon, by the same author, are already available on Bambooks but you can get your physical copies by getting in touch with the author on all social media platforms.

©      

Musings of a Lady in her mid-30’s

One day when I woke up, I was in my mid-thirties. Where did the time go and how did I get here so quickly? I was excited when I turned 30 but from then until now, I think the time has flown by pretty fast. This is a rude reawakening that 25 years from now, I will be retiring from active work and a decade from that I will be in my 70s. I am so certain that that will also happen within a twinkle of an eye if careful planning and intentionality are not introduced into this journey we call life.

Although my spirit and soul do not feel old at all, I sense that various experiences (both good and bad) are determining my approach towards life currently. In the past, I had this strong conviction that I needed to be there for people but recently, that notion has changed. My true dependents are, perhaps, my daughters and I do not doubt that even if I am not here on earth, they will still do well. Nobody’s ability to live, survive or thrive is solely dependent on me. When people die, no matter how painful it is, we always find a way of moving on and soon, these dear people become memories. I sometimes go through my wedding photos which were taken almost ten (10) years ago and I realise how some of the people, we held very dear to our hearts, have left us. I can imagine what looking at those photos in the next couple of years will feel like. Whether we like it or not, a lot of the images in the album will be mere memories. These were people we thought we could never say goodbye to. Yet, after a few months or years, we can talk about them without the initial associated pain. We are even able to go days and months without thinking about them. This realisation has been sad and refreshing at the same time and it is helping me choose activities I want to indulge in. In my mid-30s and beyond, I want to be conserving my energy and directing them towards the things that truly matter.

Credit: Heather Lindsey

I have had an epiphany that there may not be a truly innocent, good, liked-by-all corpse/cadaver (lol) – I will explain. I am sure by the time you turn 35, you may have stepped on the toes of several people – intentionally and unintentionally. In some cases, you may have meant it for good but the acceptability rate from the recipient may not be what you had envisioned. I am so certain that by the time I retire from active work maybe in my 60s, I will have broken a very good number of friendships and relationships. I had never regarded myself as a mean person but in recent times, I feel that may only my notion. Currently, I am beginning to accept that I will not be that sweet, beautiful person who will be described in my biography. When that story of my life is being read on the day I am being laid to rest, some people will be reminded of when I stepped on their toes or when I ignored them or the time I was not able to give in to their request. I cannot change the perception that people have about me and I am slowly accepting that reality.

Thirdly, life must be lived with intentionality or else by time you blink, a decade has passed. Do not fault the people who have 10-year or 20-year plans for their lives. At this point, I admire those who have lofty dreams and are doing all they can to achieve them. I am certain that God has the final say but I also know that He has granted everyone a purpose for their lives. When you find that purpose, make sure to run with it. Do not be afraid to set goals and have dreams for your lives. That deliberate element must be introduced to every aspect of our lives.

How old are you now? Are there any realisations that you have made about life in totality? Share them with us.

©

Gossip, Conscience and Remorse

In our daily walk, God has promised and given us the Holy Spirit to guide us in all our endeavours. The Holy Spirit, who is with us as Christians, is in the form of our conscience and your conscience could be sharp if you have a good relationship with the Holy Spirit. This relationship, like every other, is built through daily communication or prayer. You can also kill your conscience if you’re completely oblivious and do not engage with it at all.

I realised I had a sharp conscience as far back as senior high school when I would have loved to have as much fun as my classmates during entertainment shows but no, this conscience would prevent me from doing that. Be it a musical or dance show where people will ‘chill’ to the core, I was always an observer.

I admired those who were in relationships at that age and I wanted such a thing for myself but no, my conscience would not permit me to. When those entertainment shows were happening, I always found myself far away from where the action was. My conscience prevented me from exploring in that regard.

This followed me all the way from SHS to the period we stayed at our home prior to going to the University. During that time, I found myself in very compromising situations that would have changed my life forever. I relate some of these experiences to naivety and the eagerness to be adventurous. I accepted certain proposals and invitations but after a meeting or two with these people, my conscience would eat me up so bad that I either broke off those friendships or relationships and never made my way to those places again. It was the same in the university – there was an invisible force that protected and kept me in check. I had a reputation for breaking a few hearts back then. When I look back, I can tell that it was the hand of God.

I am not saying I am the purest of all souls but I believe my conscience guides me (a lot). Recently, I found myself talking about people behind their backs (gossip). I say things, which may sound like a joke, but in my heart, I knew they were mean utterances. This happens when I am in the company of my very good friends. For some reason during the latter part of last week, I started having vivid pictures of the people hearing me when I speak about them. How would I feel if they actually heard me say those things about them? Would I be bold enough to say them if they were in front of me? Do I want to be known for something as negative as being a gossip?

These questions ate me up so bad that I started having palpitations. It was almost as if the people I have spoken about have heard what I have been saying. My heart would beat so fast that I started asking God to forgive me and I have promised myself that I won’t speak about people in that manner anymore. I want to have positive relationships with everyone even if I know some of them may not be reciprocated. I want to be far away from gossip spaces. Practically, I am limiting myself from the environment that make me gossip about people and I have shared this with my accountability partner who will keep me in check.

I am grateful for the insight I got into this negative behaviour in these last few days and I am trusting God for more ways to become a better person in this new year. There are a lot of things I want to be known for but being a gossip is definitely not one of them.

Have you been in situation where you have vividly felt your conscience pricking you? Share that with us.

Feature image credit: AI generated on Canva

©

Back to the Basics

We are back to the basics

Where we believed like children

Without a wavering heart and no doubts at all

Giving out our best and blocking out the noise

Even when the situation was dire

We did not pay heed to our experiences

Neither were we attentive to our understanding

For that was what we were conscious of

But now, there are questions without answers

A lot do not make sense

Like when the word says

Give from your heart for you shall receive

Do not be anxious so we hand over our worries

Do not forsake the assembly of the saint and we fellowship together

But we begin to provide alternatives

What if I do not give to the church but to the poor?

How about if I worship but by myself and virtually?

Anxiety? I cannot do without

Then we begin to worship on our terms

Why follow the aspects that favour us alone?

Pray but not give to HIS store house?

Sacrifice but just a little aspect of ourselves?

Show kindness but only to the people we want?

Life happens, they say

Our experiences play a role and we struggle

Even with this aspect of ourselves

Where we’ve been instructed to let ourselves go

How hard is that?

Just like you, I do not have the answers

Because just like you, I am on a journey to acquaint myself with Him

I am back to where it all began

Just like a child.

©

Let’s Reconnect

Happy New Year. I know it’s been a while. Life simply happened and I lost the urge to write and publish here. I have been contemplating whether to still keep this blog or just shut it down and move on with life. It’s been challenging keeping a career, managing a home with two children and still keeping a blog.

The other reason for my silence is the fact that the blogging and social media space keeps evolving. If you’ve been in it for a while, you may have hanged your boots, changed your niche or considered leaving at some point. I was having a conversation with my husband recently about how the world keeps shifting towards fast content, thus, most people’s preference for short videos and reels instead of reading real content which may take them about 10 -15 minutes on social media. I have seen a number of bloggers who are actually shutting their pages and focusing on other things due to the low numbers of visitors and readers to their blogs.

What I am saying is that it takes a lot of willpower and conviction to keep a blog running in the era that we find ourselves in. The famous question people ask is how rewarding or lucrative blogging is and my current response is, I think it’ll be good to find other reasons to keep a blog than the money bit of it.

This year, I have come to the conclusion that I want to keep this blog. I want to write more frequently because I had a deep conviction about this space before it was birthed. My focus will not be about the number of readers I have and keep. I need this space to share what I learn as a Christian in my daily walk. Be my accountability partner – nudge me when you think I am breaking this promise. You can always find me on Twitter and Instagram (christian_blog_ghana). Let’s reconnect!

What about you? What are some of the things you hope to do this year?

The Dean’s Office (Part 6)

Read Part 5 of the Dean’s Office

Dr. Smith hid a bottle of whisky in one of the cabinets in his office. This morning, he took some ice cubes from the freezer compartment of his tabletop fridge and put them in a mug. He preferred to drink from a mug to prevent any nosey colleague or student who may budge into the office from detecting the content. He poured the whisky, sat on the chair and placed his long legs on the table. He swirled the drink in the mug before gulping it down. He knew it was only 7:30 am and drinking on an empty stomach was not healthy but he couldn’t help it.

Shirley – the thoughts of that woman never seem to leave him. What started as a joke in the dean’s office is now gnarling at his whole being. He now yearns for her as he had never done before. This feeling is new to him. He hasn’t felt anything this strong for any woman. In the past, he deceived women to get what he ‘wanted’ but the feeling he is developing for his co-worker is new. It’s not only about her looks or the manner that she carries herself – there is something about her that he cannot point out. He wants her in a way that scares him and would not mind doing anything to get her. He does not doubt that he is in love with her. Someone’s wife.

Dr. Smith’s phone rang and interrupted his thoughts and speaking of the object of his fantasy,

“Hello, Shirley. I was thinking about you,” he said

“I hope they were good thoughts,”

“It depends on what you mean by good thoughts. Anyway, have you made any decision about my proposal? Is that why you’re calling?”

“I am calling to remind you that it’s your turn to facilitate tomorrow’s seminar for the graduate students,” she said.

“I know. I have it in my diary,”

“Great. Do you want to have dinner with me sometime next week? Will Monday be ok?”

Dr. Smith couldn’t believe his luck. He wasn’t expecting that. Was he hearing clearly? It’s a joke. Oh, Finally! Shirley is coming around.

“Wow! Of course. Of course,” he said

“So 5 pm, next week Monday, at the University’s Lodge. They have a new restaurant that serves only local dishes,”

“Yes, I know about it,”

“I have a surprise for you as well. Remember to look and smell nice,” Shirley laughed teasingly before hanging up.

“Whoop! Whoop!”

Dr. Francis Smith got up to do the victory dance. He couldn’t believe his luck.

***************

Sundays are used to be special. That was the only day in the week the family drove together in the same car – Shirley would be in the passenger seat, the children at the back and I will be driving them to church. The conversations were light and the gospel tunes played on the radio always serenaded the atmosphere while we made the half-hour journey.

I still haven’t gotten over what Shirley did to me the other day. The atmosphere was conducive for us to have gotten intimate till she came up with that lame excuse. She neither apologised nor said anything about the incident when she returned from work.

“That is my current favourite track,” Shirley said, reaching forward to increase the volume of the radio.

“Ye obua mi, ye obua mi,” she sang along to Joe Mettle’s new tune with her eyes closed.

“Have you heard that song before?” she asked.

I kept my focus on the road and ignored her question. She caught the drift and kept mute with her question still hanging in the air. I clutched the steering wheel as I made the sharp turn. I am sure my jaws and knuckles were equally clenched. I stepped on the brakes abruptly when the church’s security team directed me to park. I got out of the car, waited for the children and escorted them to the Sunday School. When I returned, I didn’t bother looking for Shirley. On a regular Sunday, I would have preferred sitting right by her and during the sermon, I would hold her hand. Sometimes I passed comments about how nice her hair was or how pretty she looked. It was such a beautiful feeling but this Sunday is different. I’ve been hurt by her actions and I prefer to sit as far away from her as possible. If she wants to pretend everything is fine between us, that is ok. She should continue living in her dream. She has called for war and that is exactly what I am going to give her.

…….to be continued.

©

Book Review: Karen Kingsbury’s ‘Oceans Apart’

Have you ever read a story that made you so sad that you actually shed tears? That was the situation I found myself in when I read Karen’s Kingsbury Oceans Apart. The story was so moving that most of the pages had me in tears.

Synopsis

Kiahna, a flight attendant and young Christian dies in a plane crash leaving behind her seven-year-old son who neither knows his dad nor any family member except an old babysitter who takes care of him when his mum is away. Before her death, Kiahna kept a will (she updates annually) which included finding the father of her son, Max if anything happened to her. The father of her son, Connor is a happily married man in another State, with two daughters who had had a one-night-stand with Kiahna about eight years ago. He never met with Kiahna and had no idea he had a son till he was contacted by Kiahna’s lawyer a few days after her demise. Kiahna’s will was for Max to spend two weeks with Connor and after that, Connor could decide whether he wants to adopt Max or not. The quest to meet with his dad, the tremor which shook the Evans family after they discovered Connor had a son and the emotional roller-coaster Max had to endure after meeting the Evans was what made this story a touching one.

The Good

This book was easy to read and the author carried the reader through the story quite effortlessly. The over 300-paged novel was generally sad, particularly when it was told from the perspective of seven-year-old Max. The simplicity and purity of his thoughts and actions were generally beautiful and moving. Some people may think Michelle (Connor’s wife) may have overreacted when she discovered her ‘almost perfect’ husband had cheated on her and even had a son and to even make matters worse, had kept it a secret all these years. As a married woman, I think Michelle’s concerns were quite legitimate, especially, when you have had no cause to mistrust your partner.

The Bad

Worldviews are not black or white. There is always that grey portion that sometimes prevents people from distinguishing right and wrong behaviour immediately. The manner in which the characters accepted their faults made the story a little unbelievable. For instance, Kiahna easily accepted that Connor was married. She simply allowed him to go and made no attempt to contact him to even inform him of his son. In her heart, she loved Connor (how she fell in love with a man she spent just a day with is another puzzle to be solved later) and that prevented her from loving any other man (rolling my eyes ). How Connor easily accepted the son he had no idea about without much questioning was a little disbelieving.

I also felt Max was portrayed just too perfectly – he was only seven years. His speech and mannerisms were sometimes unconvincing and too advanced for a little boy. Nonetheless, the story was great.

Recommend or Nah

The broader theme of love and forgiveness in relationships is portrayed well in this story. Karen Kingsbury magnifies the importance of forgiving one another no matter how difficult it is. She also highlights the need to spend time daily with God to know his voice and where He is directing you.

I recommend it to anyone who is having a hard time forgiving a loved one for a mistake they committed. This book is also for people having second thoughts about their faith in God – that is, whether to continue listening to the voice of God or taking matters into their own hands.

Have you read this book? What was your impression? Share with us in the comments section!

©

The Dean’s Office (Part 5)

Read Part 4 of The Dean’s Office.

“Can you believe that? He proposed we start a relationship and if it works, I could leave Jimmy and get married to him,”

“What won’t I hear in this world?” Adwoa, my best friend asked.

“He is really attractive but his boldness scares me,” I said.

“I always hear that people with high IQs have some form of mental illness and this may be a classic case,” Adwoa said, in between laughs.

“Don’t say that,” I reprimanded but couldn’t stop laughing at her assumptions.

Adwoa and I have known each other since Senior High School. We were in the same house and dormitory but while I read Business, Adwoa was a Visual Arts student. We met again at the University and somehow found ourselves in the same Hall. Even though we’ve been best friends, Adwoa and I are as different as night and day. I have always been studious while Adwoa knew how to create the right balance – she studied when she had to and partied hard as well. She has been the life of every party and somehow managed to pull me along to most of the events she was invited to.

“We need to meet for lunch one of these days,” I heard Adwoa say.

“Yes. We need to.”

“I could come over to campus. We could go to the staff cafeteria. Who knows? We may bump into the sexy Dr. Smith who has been eyeing my m-a-r-r-i-e-d friend,” she said bursting into laughter once again.

“Don’t be like that, Adwoa,” I said feigning sadness and hoping Adwoa could catch the tone over the phone and stop teasing, “I could introduce you both. Two single crazy people.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all. Let’s meet for lunch and make sure to introduce me to that hunk of yours,” Adwoa said.

“Sure. We’ll talk later,” I said and hanged up.

***************

“Oh Jimmy, you shouldn’t have gone through this length just to surprise me,” I said.

“It’s been a while since we did anything like this. You’ve been busy,” Jimmy said.

“I know and there was no need for you to remind me,”

“Ok. Haven’t you been busy? Anyway, let’s not spoil the moment with this argument – I only decided to surprise you with this brunch basket and what do we have here?” Jimmy asked as we walked around to the other side of the table to shift the cover of the cane basket to reveal its content.

“There are crepes, toasted bread, vegetable salad, ham, baguette, freshly squeezed orange and pineapple fruit juices, grapes, spicy chicken wings and what again do we have? Red velvet cake. Wow. I know you’re going to love this cake. There is enough to feed you and your colleagues. You don’t have to go out for lunch today,” Jimmy said.

“This is really beautiful and thoughtful. I truly appreciate it,” I said.

“Are you going to try any of the items in the basket or you are going to stand there and cry?”

He took the disposable knife and cut a thin slice of cake onto a plate and put it in front of me. He then walked quickly to the door to fasten the latch. Jimmy came around the desk to where I sat, bent over and gave me a kiss – gently at first. He held my hands and pulled me up towards him and kissed me again. He pulled me tighter into his arms and looked into my eyes.

“I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss this and I miss us,” he said almost breathlessly. He continued kissing me while his fingers frantically went behind me to locate the zip of my skirt. Realising what he had in mind, I quickly held the zip to prevent him from bringing it down.

“No Jimmy. Not here. Not in the office. My office. Anyone could walk in on us,” I said.

“But I have locked the door,” Jimmy said.

“But the dean has spare keys?”

Jimmy pulled back and stared at me bewildered.

“The dean has spare keys?” he repeated. “Does he go round opening the doors to offices of members of his staff? Are you even listening to yourself? Shirley. Too many excuses. You are either tired, not in the mood or giving lame excuses,”

“You don’t have to shout,”

“Yeah. I know. I won’t shout but I am so tired of your excuses,” Jimmy said while picking up his phone and car keys from my desk. He walked straight to the door, pulled the latch, looked at me once more and said,

“But the Dean has spare keys. Oh! Shirley,” and with those words, he walked out of the door.

I sat down in my chair, looked at the basket of goodies Jimmy had brought and started sobbing. No weeping was more of what I was doing.

“What was I thinking?”

…….to be continued.

©

No Tears for Mike

When his dad died, mum thought taking care of him and his little sister would be a big problem and when dad’s brother adopted him, another relative took his sister away too. Mum assured him that was for the best and Mike believed her.

The uncle who took him away was well-to-do and all he needed was a ‘son’ who would eventually take over his business. His wife hadn’t succeeded in giving him the son he had always dreamed of. Every seed from his loins resulted in females – all five of them and Mike seemed to be the answer to his prayer. He was going to be trained to take over Uncle’s empire.

Mike did not have enough time to mourn his dad – the man who had been strong, his role model. Thanks to mum and the uncle who never ceased promising him heaven on earth, he will never mourn his dad.

Being separated from his sister and mum was hard to bear. Be tough, his uncle kept repeating. You are a man and must be strong. It’s only girls who cry thus, Mike tried to hide his tears for the dad he had lost and his sister and his mum. In just two weeks, he was encouraged to forget about them for they belonged to his past.

He tried to be tough, just as his uncle wanted him to be. He tried to be respectful also. He wanted to love his new sisters but all that was met with a lot of resistance. His new sisters and their mum eyed him suspiciously. To them, Mike was just a gold-digger who had been sent to take over their dad’s business. They never saw him for the 12-year old boy that he was.

After four years of living with his uncle, he no longer remembered his mum or sister. Neither did he dwell on memories of his dad. They were now tiny figments in his adolescent brains. His mum and sister never got in touch and he never attempted to look for them either. That was what Uncle said. Now, he has stopped trying hard to love his sisters because any attempt to get close was met with fierce resistance. Expressing love was a thing for girls, anyway.

No form of emotion was expected except viciousness because he was a man. He must be tough if he wanted to manage the over 300-fleet of cars owned by his uncle someday. He no longer missed anyone from his past -not his dad, nor mum nor little sister. Missing them was not permitted because that made him a girl and girls could not run businesses. He needed to be tough to own his uncle’s businesses and tough was exactly how he was going to act.

©

The Dean’s Office (Part 4)

Read Part 3 of the Dean’s Office.

“Those guys at the back. Yes – one is in a red shirt, the other is in a blue-checkered shirt and the third is in ermm – that should be black or is it a deep blue short sleeved shirt. Don’t look back. I’m talking to the three of you. What’s funny?” I asked.

“Madam, please it’s nothing,” the one in the blue-checkered shirt responded.

“Since the three of you are excited to be in my class this morning, I’m certain you have an answer to my question,” I said. “Explain the concept and features of Value-Base Management.”

After a little bit of hesitation, the one in the black short sleeves stood up.

“Madam, please, Value-Based Management (VBM) for short, is the management philosophy and approach that enables and supports maximum value creation in organisations, typically the maximum of shareholder value. VBM encompasses the processes for creating, managing and …”

“Awesome. That’s wonderful. I think this young man deserves a clap. What is your name?” I asked.

“Madam, please I am Nana,” he responded.

I could still hear some murmurings and giggles from his friends.

“I cherish students who take time to go through the course outline and read ahead of the class. Nana that is five (5) additional marks for class participation,”

“Thank you, madam,” he responded. He whispered something to his friends which drew more laughter from them.

“Some of you would never touch the course outline till it’s revision week and I am waiting to mark your exam scripts,” I said, attracting laughter from the entire class.

“You’re laughing. Don’t forget I’ve also been a student once and I’ve been lecturing for close to six years. I know what you do with my course outline and as Nana rightly described, Value-Based Management or VBM for short is a management philosophy…”

********************************

The Dean’s Office

“Do you not respond to calls or call back when you miss calls,” Francis enquired.

“Hello, Francis. What a nice way to acknowledge my presence.” I responded.

“Did your phone display my attempt at reaching you?” Francis continued.

“Who calls a married woman at 11 pm? Were you expecting me to respond? Besides, I did not save your number on my phone the other day. Let’s just assume I did not know it was you,”

“I take it that you do not answer calls from numbers you do not know. What if it’s an emergency?”

“What if my husband had answered the call? What would you have said it was? An emergency from a colleague at work? At 11 pm? Congratulations Dr. Smith. That was smart,” I said, beginning to lose my cool.

With that, I walked away leaving Francis on the corridor. I took the shortest route back to my office before causing a scene. Immediately I sat, I heard a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I said.

“It was not my intention to call so late but I have tried, unsuccessfully, to get thoughts of you out of my head. I find you attractive,” Francis began immediately he entered my office.

“Dr. Smith, what exactly do you want from me? ” I said with all the calmness I could gather.

“I would love to get to know you better if you would give me the chance,”

“Know me better? In what sense?”

“Is it possible for us to be fffriends? Which could lead into a relationship? Possibly?” he asked.

“Wow! Wow! That is enough. Can you leave my office?”

“We can start by getting to know each other better. I promise to behave myself till you decide whether you want to leave your husband and be with me or not,”

“This is the most ridiculous statement I’ve heard my entire life. Dr. Smith, please leave my office and I mean it this time,” I said, while I stood up to prepare to escort him out. The audacity. This man is too bold.

“I can’t seem to get you out of my mind. Just think about my proposal and give me a call when you have a response,” Dr. Smith said before leaving my office.

…….to be continued.

©

Photo Source: Pixabay