Title:
Keeping Secrets
Author:
Kiru Taye
Series:
The Essien #1
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
ISBN:
9781916475526
Available
as eBook, Paperback and Audiobook
FREE to download in eBook format
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BLURB
Have
you ever loved someone and didn’t even know it?
That’s
the dilemma facing Felix Essien when he wakes from a coma to find he is married
to the most beautiful and sensual woman he’s ever known. He cannot remember her
or their wedding; he who had sworn never to get married or to give his heart to
another. Yet, he feels an intense bond with her that he intends to explore
fully.
Ebony can’t believe her good fortune when her paper husband wakes not remembering the temporary marriage arrangement with no intimacies he’d proposed, and is now the adoring husband she’s always dreamt of.
She plans to make the most of the passion blossoming between them. However, would he still feel that way when he regains his memory and realises she’s been keeping secrets and their marriage is not what he thinks it is?
Chapter One
“Mrs. Essien, your husband is out of his coma.”
Phone
pressed against one ear, the other hand reaching for the remote control, Ebony
bolted upright. Her hand shook as she fumbled to mute the television news
channel she’d been watching. The discarded controller clanked onto the clear,
glass-topped side table.
“D...did
I hear you correctly? Felix is awake?” She couldn’t hide the tremor in her
voice, nor relax her tight-knuckled grip on the overstuffed arm of the
upholstered cream sofa. Disbelief warred with hope, trampling all over her
troubled mind.
“Yes,
madam,” the nurse said at the other end of the line.
Breath
rushed out of her lungs. The living room turned blurry. She lowered her lashes
and slumped backwards, the velvet cushions a haven of soft comfort. A tear
seeped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She didn’t bother
to wipe it. This didn’t represent sadness. No. This spelt relief—pure and
simple—at prayers answered. At last.
“Hello?
Are you still there?”
Eyes
flickering open, she took in the bare cream walls of the living room and her
gaze landed on the pile of framed wedding photographs in the far corner,
overshadowed by a dark wood sculpture of a couple cinched in passion.
Since
she’d taken delivery of the photos, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to
put them up.
“I’m
still here.” She swiped another tear with the back of her hand and cleared her
throat.
“How is he? When did he wake up?” The words rushed from her
lips, relief now overtaken by excitement.
Soft
laughter filtered through the phone. “Take it easy, madam.”
Ebony
grimaced. The respectful term for a woman only made her feel ancient; she’d prevented
her household employees from using it to address her. But she didn’t tell the
nurse on the phone.
“Sorry,”
she said instead as she curled her lips with joy for the first time in weeks.
She could forgive the woman who delivered such delightful news.
“No
need to apologise. I understand, Madam,” the nurse continued in a cheerful
voice. “Your husband woke a few minutes ago. The doctor is with him now and he
seems okay, considering his condition. There is a request on his note to
contact you as soon as he wakes up. This is the reason for my call.”
“Thank
you so much, Nurse. I’ll come to the hospital straight away.” Ebony ended the
call and sprang to her feet, ready to race to the bedroom to change.
Bad move. Her head swam, making her nauseated
by the sudden movement, her stomach heaving like a turbulent sea.
Sinking
back into the sofa, she breathed through the queasiness, head tilted slightly
forward on her hands.
Oh, Lord. I hope I haven’t
picked up a stomach bug.
It’ll
teach her to buy street food. Last night, she’d craved Kilishi so much, she had to stop on the way home from hospital to
pick up the beef jerky-style food cured and seeped in spices.
The
omelette and toast she’d had for breakfast hadn’t stayed down, to the dismay of
the housekeeper. The poor girl had looked appalled at the notion she may have
poisoned her mistress. Hence the reason Ebony had been sitting in the living
room when her phone rang, instead of being already at the hospital, her usual
routine.
Perhaps,
the stress of the past few weeks finally caught up with her. Long days and even
longer nights, staying up worried about Felix.
Her
chin dipped into her chest and her shoulders slumped as a wave of guilt hit
her.
I should’ve been there when he
woke up. He should’ve seen me first. Not the nurse or doctor. Me, his wife.
Today of all days, too. Is it fate that he woke on Valentine’s Day?
“Aunty,
are you okay?”
Ebony
exhaled a sigh and lifted her head. The word ‘aunty’ gave her familial
closeness to the addresser, a sense of not being alone in this mansion or
dealing with faceless employees, but rather engaging with a member of the
family.
Bisi,
the housekeeper, stood beside her sofa twisting her hands, her anxiety
plastered on her round face, her outfit—a blue check dress, white pinafore, and
white sandals—creaseless and stainless, her hair plaited in neat straight
cornrows, pulled into a bun at the back. The twenty-year old girl always took
pride in her appearance. Living in meant Bisi became part of their household,
which made her family.
Ebony
curled her lips into a reassuring smile. “I’m more than okay. Stop worrying.”
She
stood carefully and this time, the world stayed the right way up.
“Just
tell Kola that I’ll be ready to go the hospital in thirty minutes.”
“Yes,
Aunty.” The girl nodded. “I’ve packed the bag ready for you. Do you want me to
skip class tonight, in case you need me?”
“No.
There’s no need for you to miss your lesson.”
Ebony
paid for Bisi to study Home Economics at their local college, with emphasis on
Cookery after she discovered the girl’s interest in food and flavours. She
should tell her Felix woke up. But after waiting so long to get some good news,
she wanted confirmation with her own two eyes before announcing it to the rest
of the household staff.
“Thank
you for packing the bag.”
She
patted the housekeeper on the shoulder and headed upstairs, bare feet slapping
on cold marble. Crockery tinkled behind her as Bisi cleared up the teacup and
saucer from the side table.
On
the threshold of the master bedroom, she halted, taking in the space before
her. The cream walls and dark wood effect reached here, too. The heavy mahogany
frame of the massive bed and headboard has been specially ordered, the design
bespoke. She remembered asking for the measurements for the mattress before she
ordered luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets.
That
had been before disaster struck. Neither one of them had slept in the bed since
it arrived.
Blinking
back tears, she crossed the floor, her toes curling into the velvety, beige
shag-pile rug covering the hard slate.
She
walked into the clothes closet and sucked in a sharp breath. Seeing the rows of
Felix’s shirts and suits always triggered unhappiness. Today, she should be
jumping for joy. Yet, her chest tightened and the back of her throat hurt.
“This
isn’t how we planned it, Felix....” Her voice croaked.
She
clutched his white shirt, inhaled deeply, and sobbed. Body racking, her legs
gave way. She crumpled to the floor, the metal hook from the hanger clattering
as it hit hard slate.
Could
it be possible to feel intense joy and sadness all at the same time? One minute
she wanted to sing her joy with a microphone. The next, she wished she could
crawl into a cave a hide.
Worse,
she couldn’t shake the boulder of guilt weighing down her body. This was all
her fault. She’d doomed her marriage right from the start. How else could she
explain that she wore a wedding band, had a marriage certificate to boot, but
had never felt the warm arms of her husband
around her?
“Aunty,
Oga Kola is ready for you.” Bisi’s
voice sounded close.
Did I leave the bedroom door
open?
Standing,
Ebony took one last sniff of Felix’s shirt before tossing it into the laundry
basket. Though it had the crisp smell of detergent, it reminded her of the man
before the accident.
“I’ll
be down in five,” she said and entered the adjoining bathroom, keeping her face
averted so the girl couldn’t see her from the entrance. She listened to the
receding footsteps as Bisi departed.
At
the sink, she stared at her face in the mirror. Her exhaustion showed, twin
dark shadows beneath eyes red from lack of sleep and crying.
Cool
water from the tap calmed the puffy eyes. A couple of eye drops brightened the
whites, and dabs of concealer hid her sullen skin. She applied some lip-gloss
and brushed out her hair, letting the tresses hang loose. It helped to cover up
her fatigue.
Just
like she got good at covering up everything else. She couldn’t reveal that all wasn’t
well in paradise.
She
slipped on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and headed out to see her husband.
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