CHAPTER ONE
CLOUD 9
Peace glanced at the clock nailed to the wall. It was exactly 11:00 p.m. She had been sitting on the soft couch for two hours, waiting for her husband to return from work. The silence in the room was deafening, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock and her deep breaths.
Suddenly, the door opened slowly.
Melvin stepped inside, glanced at her, and then looked away, walking straight toward the bedroom without a word. Peace stood up and followed him immediately.
Just as he reached the stairs, she moved in front of him and blocked his path.
"You're late home again," she said, her voice calm but firm.
"Sorry, dear. Can you please step aside? I need to get to the room and take a shower," Melvin replied, barely making eye contact.
He moved to go past her, but she stepped closer, standing at the foot of the stairs with her hands on her hips.
"Melvin, it's been months now. You always come back late. You don't care about me anymore. Honestly, you're not the man I married six years ago. I miss the man who cared, who loved me, Melvin, I..."
Her voice broke. She sat down on the stairs as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Melvin used to be moved by those tears.
He once loved wiping them away from her soft cheeks, doing everything he could to see her smile. But now, it was as if those emotions had faded into oblivion.
"Please, get out of the way. I need to go to my room!" he snapped, trying to push past her, but she steadied herself and rose to her feet again.
"Hell no!" she said, shaking her head. "You're going nowhere."
"Really?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yes. We need to talk," she insisted. She stepped closer, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. "You need to hear me out."
"There's nothing to talk about until you give me a child," he retorted harshly.
"Six years, Peace! Six years is not six days, six weeks, or six months! Am I even welcome in this house anymore?"
With a bitter tone, he removed her hand from his shoulder, turned around, and made his way to the exit door.
"Melvin, come back! Where are you going at this time of the night? You've changed so much. You come home late, you don't touch me anymore, and neither do you eat my food. You don't let me do your laundry anymore. I'm sure you have another woman outside, but for once, please listen to me!"
But her words were drowned by the sound of the car engine as Melvin started the vehicle and drove off into the night. Back inside, Peace broke down completely.
"Just because of a child?" she sobbed. "You and I know it's nobody's fault... God, why?"
Peace was on a wooden swing in a quiet garden, giggling as Melvin gently pushed her from behind. Whatever he was whispering made her laugh even more. The breeze played with her hair, and the sky seemed to smile down at them.
He stopped the swing and moved to stand in front of her. Crouching slightly, he took her hands in his and softly stroked her cheeks before placing a tender kiss on them.
Sweat glistened on her skin.
Peace stood up slowly, and Melvin rose with her, brushing aside a few strands of hair from her face.
"You drive me crazy, my woman," he whispered.
Then he gazed into her blue eyes, eyes he once called "oceans of passion." His finger traced the curve of her lips gently, drawing small circles.
"These lips bring me joy," he said softly, before kissing her. Their lips met gently, their tongues danced, and then he wrapped her tightly in his arms.
"Your heart beats fast," Peace said with a shy smile.
"Yeah... because you're my soulmate. We belong to each other. Our love is forever," Melvin whispered, hugging her as if he never wanted to let go.
Suddenly, the sky changed, and the wind blew up.
"Grriimm!" Her phone buzzed violently.
Peace jolted awake and rushed to her handbag on the couch beside her. She fumbled through it and pulled out her iPhone.
"Gosh! Twelve missed calls?" she exclaimed.
It hit her; it was just a dream.
"Oh..." she sighed, placing her right hand on her forehead. "And it felt so perfect... just like old times."
She glanced at the screen. The missed calls were from Paul, Melvin's best friend. The wall clock read 8:34 a.m.
"I can't believe I slept on the couch all night," she muttered as she began climbing the stairs.
Just then, her phone rang again. She paused and checked the caller ID. It was Paul again.
She slid on the phone screen and answered quickly.
"Good morning, Mr. Paul. Please tell Melvin that I'm still at home waiting for him," she said hurriedly, trying to sound composed, thinking her husband had spent the night in his friend's place.
Then came the words that dropped like a nuclear bombshell.
"Peace... I'm so sorry. We lost Melvin last night in a fatal accident; his car wrecked, and he didn't survive the crash."
"Please, what are you talking about?"
"He was admitted to the general hospital, but he didn't make it."
The phone slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. She stood frozen for a second, then her knees gave out, and she collapsed in tears.
***********************************
Cloud 9
***********************************
In the quiet parlour, Peace sat motionless on a soft animal-skin sofa, barely 20 centimeters high. Her slender frame sank into the fur as she stared blankly at the large plasma television mounted on the textured, cloth-covered wall.
Above the TV hung a framed portrait of herself, tender-faced and six years younger. The beautiful studio picture was taken the week she submitted her CV to the company she now works for. Just one week after that picture was taken, she received her offer letter. She had been overjoyed, it was, after all, only two weeks after her wedding. Life had seemed so full of promise.
Next to her portrait was another frame: a wedding photo of her and Melvin, glowing in love and laughter. Peace smiled faintly, then sighed.
"Gosh," she muttered to herself, "that was the happiest day of my life."
To the left of the parlour, a staircase spiraled upward to the master bedroom, now empty and dim. In the far corner stood the dining room, which had been untouched for months, draped in dust and cobwebs, as forgotten as the joy that once filled this house.
Peace held a white A4-sized paper in her trembling hands, hospital laboratory results. Her eyes scanned the words, but they blurred through her confusion and disbelief.
"Should I be happy... or afraid?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner. Her mind had been a battlefield for weeks now.
Since Melvin's death three months ago, she had been plagued by a strange and persistent illness. Nearly every symptom imaginable had visited her: nausea, fatigue, dizziness, a constant aching in her back and abdomen.
She had become a familiar face at the small pharmaceutical store down the street, visiting so frequently that the salesgirl now greeted her by name. But nothing helped. The medications, the herbal teas, the supplements, none of them brought her back to her old self.
Then one morning, something unusual happened. She had driven to the pharmacy as usual, parking hurriedly under the swaying mango tree. But this time, instead of the salesgirl, she found herself face to face with a tall fair man in a white coat.
He was younger than she expected of doctors, with kind but tired eyes. He introduced himself as Dr. Steve, the owner of the pharmacy.
"Good morning," Peace greeted, surprised.
"It's been a while since I saw you here."
"Actually," the doctor said, smiling slightly, "I'm only here today. I'm usually at my hospital. Just took a day off."
"Oh... you're on leave?"
"Not exactly. More like... I gave myself a break," he said with a shrug, watching her carefully.
Peace nodded, suddenly feeling seen, as if her struggles were visible beyond her tired eyes.
"You said you've been coming here for the past three months?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
"Yes," she replied quietly, "almost every day."
He frowned. "What exactly is wrong with you?"
She hesitated, searching for words.
"Honestly... I don't know. It started with morning sickness, then fatigue. I'm always tired. I feel dizzy often, and I have this strange urge to urinate constantly. My back hurts, and so does my abdomen." She instinctively placed a hand over her stomach.
"Just this morning, I vomited again, and I…."
"When was the last time you had your period?" the doctor asked suddenly, cutting her off.
"Period?" Peace repeated, blinking, as though the word was foreign. Her mind stumbled over the thought. Could it be...? Her eyes widened in disbelief.
No. It couldn't be. Melvin is gone. She sat still, stunned, as the memory struck her like a bolt of lightning. The last time she had been with Melvin was the night before the argument, the night he left and never returned.
He had come home drunk after days of silent treatment. He staggered into the room like a man chasing a memory. She remembered sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing a black, sleeveless, transparent nightgown.
She was sad seeing the man she had once admired so much in that way, but there was nothing she could do to help him. All he needs is a child of his own, and she is yet to take in. He stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on her, reeking of whiskey and silence. Without a word, he moved toward her.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to. There was something in his touch that night, desperate, angry, almost apologetic. He gently pushed her back onto the bed, struggled out of his jeans and boxers.
His calloused hands touched her face, trembling slightly.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.
"Tonight, let's make our baby," he whispered, but Peace was quiet.
She knew he was drunk, and so lied like a sacrificial lamb as each stroke slowly took her to cloud 9. Suddenly, he stopped, he detached himself from her, and as she was not wearing pants under, he carelessly brushed those bushy hairs.
Yeah, it has been quite a long time since they had sex, and she doesn't bother about shaving them off to look good for him anymore, but the Adam didn't stop, he teased her clitoris and her blood flow rose.
Rubbing the wet pussy meat, he gently reached down and slide his finger inside the glorious cave, then he doubled the fingers and slowly tripled them, he fingered her roughly, that gave her joy but she kept mute with just voiceless sounds she couldn't control escaping her vocals.
He removed his fingers from the honeypot and gently spread her legs wide. With that, she knew he was about to go in again. His dick has become hard like rock and erect ready to hit. He went in, and although he was drunk, he stroked her gently, this time.
"Gosh", she missed those strokes. She became high and needed some more, and it was as if he knows, he didn't cum quick, he took his time and pleased her, even when he did cum, he was still on top of her, she held him tightly as though her life depended on him.
That night, despite the anger, the hurt, and the silence that had built between them like a wall over the past few months, their bodies spoke a language older than pride and sorrow. It was intense love, exactly, but also something raw and unresolved. They made love in a way that felt like farewell, though neither of them admitted it.
"Hello Lady", the Doctor waved at Peace, having observed her for a while as she was lost in thought.
"Oh yeah, it's been past months now and I'm not bothered about that, because I know I'm not pregnant"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, my husband is of blessed memory, and I haven't been engaged with anyone lately, am still trying to move on with life", she said
"Woman," Dr. Steve said gently, bringing her back from the silence,
"this might not be what you expected... but it's a gift. Consider it a heartbeat that survived pain."
She looked up at him, eyes glassy. "I don't think that's possible."
"Sometimes," he said softly, "we fall apart so that something new can begin."
For a moment, she said nothing. Then she whispered, "Do you think I can do this... alone?"
Dr Steve was quiet, still observing her very well.
"Alright", the Doctor finally said, and brought out a complimentary card.
"Take this card, my hospital address is there, I will not be giving you any drugs till we run a few tests on you, including a pregnancy test, let's not make assumptions", he said and handed her the card.
"If it is positive, then you're going to need prenatal vitamins… and more fruits. Unless you start hating them."
Peace took the card, glanced at it, and said to the doctor,
"Thank you, Doctor, I will drive straight to the hospital before going to my office, thank you so much, sir".
"You're welcome, Lady, and just in case you need a motivation, I lost someone too, years back," he said, his voice low.
"My younger sister. She died of asthma. I couldn't save her. That's why I became a doctor."
Peace looked at him, surprised.
"I'm so sorry, dear."
"It's alright, see you", he said and waved at her.
She waved back, turned, and made her way to where she parked her car. She got into her car, kicked the engine alive and drove out.
Peace folded the white paper gently and placed it on the center table. Her gaze drifted once again to the wedding photo on the wall, then down to her stomach.
"I think... I want to live again," she said, almost to herself.
She had been to the hospital today to collect the result, and it turned out she was pregnant. She just sat on the sofa, confused.
"How I wish he were here to witness this day", Peace said sorrowfully.
Sitting in the quiet of their once-joyful home, Peace pressed her hand tighter against her stomach. A storm swirled inside her, louder than her thoughts. She looked again at the paper on the table. It was no longer unreadable. She was carrying Melvin's child. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, not just from sorrow, but from something else she hadn't felt in months.
For the next few days, Peace moved through her home like a woman rediscovering light. She still woke up to the sharp stab of grief in her chest. Melvin's absence was a phantom that haunted her in the quiet moments: when she reached for a toothbrush that wasn't hers, or when she rolled over in bed to find only cold sheets. But now, grief had something to share space with: A life inside her.
Every morning, she placed a palm on her lower abdomen. It was still flat, still quiet, but she knew it was no longer empty. She began to clean again.
The dining room was the first to be touched. She wiped the dust off the chairs, folded the neglected tablecloth, and placed a small vase of white lilies in the center of the table, Melvin's favorite flowers.
Peace wasn't sure if it was in memory of him or for the child now growing inside her. Maybe both.
Peace exhaled, not quite a sigh.
"He was. Until he wasn't. We fought a lot before he died."
Peace paused, then looked down at her hands.
"He left behind more than I ever expected."