WHEN SHE FALLS

"Hey, good morning," Her husband said, planting many kisses from her face to her ears and her neck. His hands already found their way to her breast from under the sheets and cupped them before she opened her eyes.

Without giving her any chance to respond to his greetings and tell him she wasn't in the mood, his hands were on their way to her pants as they struggled to get them off her legs.

His lips nibbled on her neck, kissing and sucking on her chocolate skin. Kambili let him; surely he wouldn't even believe her if she told him that she was not in the mood. For him, it would be another of her excuses not to have sex with her husband.

And she didn't want that. She didn't like it either. So she let him. Besides, she was married to him, and it was only right that she gave him sex whenever he wanted it, as much as he wanted it. She lay still, faking out a moan as he penetrated and began thrusting and pommeling in and out of her like he was training for a marathon.

Was she enjoying it? No. Did she want to have sex? Yes. She just couldn't say what had happened to her or her libido. In the beginning, it wasn't like that. She used to anticipate sex with Aaron like she anticipated Christmas. And she loved sex with him like she loved eating ice cream, even in cold weather.

But now, after six years of being married to Aaron, she couldn't explain what went wrong. Also, she couldn't say that Aaron wasn't doing what needed to be done; at least she hoped he was.

Because she couldn't blame him for anything, she blamed her stupid libido, maybe, or the fact that she had begun thinking so much lately. She couldn't say exactly what had gone wrong with her. And when he climaxed, she had to fake her orgasm. Fake that she enjoyed it all along.

She hated it every time she had to fake her orgasm. Hated it all the time she had to pretend. But for her husband, for the sake of their love, and the sake of their marriage, she would, and she did.

Even when she felt guilty in many ways, she didn't like upsetting Aaron, no matter what.

"So, what's your plan for the day?" He asked Kambili who was standing up and making her way to the bathroom.

"I'm meeting with Dr. Fred today," she replied as she turned on the shower.

"Dr. Fred? That, Dr. Fred? Why are you meeting with him?" He asked, going to meet her in the shower.

Dr. Fred was her doctor somehow and he was a friend of her father's.

He had also taught her back when she was in medical school. After years of joblessness and with her husband owing the bank, she couldn't possibly remain jobless.

So Dr. Fred was the only one she had to run to for help. Just the day before, he had called her to meet up with him in the hospital. Though she didn't know why, she only hoped it was for the best.

"I asked him to help me with a recommendation. I'm tired of being jobless and wasting my degree." Then she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a large green towel around her body.

"Why do you want to work all of a sudden?" Aaron asked calmly but upset.

"Because I'm tired of being jobless. And besides, we still haven't paid the loan you took from the bank." Kambili said and walked over to the dresser to pick out what to wear.

"Every time you remind me of that loan, that business crashed because it was bad planning, and it wasn't my fault." Aaron sighed as he tried to defend himself, "Yet you talk about it like I'm so foolish that I took the loan"

She remained quiet choosing not to speak to him. She picked out a blue dress and tossed it onto the bed before taking out her wig. Retrieving a weave brush she began combing the wig still standing in front of the dresser.

"Besides, I have another business I'm planning, and a better one; I just need some time to set it up. You don't have to work," the words slurred out of Aaron's lips. He felt a little sad and bitter that he couldn't give Kambili the life he had promised her. Sometimes he hated himself and tried not to regret getting married to her.

"It's not about your businesses, babe; I can't keep waiting for all these businesses you plan to work out. I'm not even sure that's the reason Dr. Fred is asking to see me" Kambili tried to be calm. She didn't want him to think that she didn't believe in him.

"I don't want you to work, Kam. And for real though, we should just stick to the initial plan," he said, coming out of the shower naked.

He walked over to the drawer snatched a towel from a hanger and began wiping his body.

As always Kambili didn't know what to say. If she said it wasn't their decision, she may end up sounding like an inconsiderate wife, and she didn't want to be an inconsiderate wife.

First of all, she really just wanted to work, and secondly, if she didn't, Aaron wouldn't be able to pay the debt alone, especially after losing his job. Thirdly, they might end up losing their apartment too and she didn't want any of that.

"I'll meet with Dr. Fred first," she said calmly.

She didn't want to upset him, but she wanted to meet Dr. Fred. Aaron, without saying anything else, threw on his shorts and then a shirt and angrily stormed out of the room.

He didn't tell her where he was headed, but she didn't ask because she didn't want him to speak as much as she didn't want to speak. She wouldn't even know what to say if she wanted to.

She just ignored him and began to dress up to meet with Dr. Fred.

She fastidiously combed her wig as she stood in front of the dressing mirror. When she had combed it to perfection, she fitted the brown wig on her head before carefully slipping her legs, one after the other, into her blue gown.

Walking to the drawer, she retrieved two pieces of jewelry from her jewelry box: a silver chain bracelet and a gold necklace with the letter K pendant. They were the first gifts Aaron gave her when they got married, on their first marriage anniversary. She still loved them so much.

Taking her handbag and her car keys, she began to step out of the house, making sure to check her time as well just to be sure she was still on track. She didn't like to be late for appointments.

Stuck in traffic, Kambili wondered why exactly Dr. Fred wanted to meet with her. Was the hospital hiring? She didn't know what to expect. Still, she was hopeful. She just kept a positive mind.

Her Toyota Camry purred into the hospital compound as she drove into the parking lot to park the brown lousy vehicle.

Stepping out of the car, she made a short prayer for God to bless her day. Putting on a brilliant smile, she began to elegantly walk into the hospital building. She graced herself with motivation, as she repeated words of affirmation in her head.

'I'm strong and I'm bold. I attract good things.

It was her way of staying focused and determined whenever she felt unsettled.

"Good morning. I'm here to see Doctor Fred," she said to the receptionist in the lobby when she walked in.

"Okay, one second, please," the fair, beautiful lady said to her before making a call. The lady had a beautiful jawline and small slender fingers that clung to the telephone. Her light red lipstick was light but pronounced. Kambili admired the time taken by the lady to line her full brows.

"You may go in; he's expecting you," the lady said to her, and Kambili nodded her head still wearing a smile before walking away towards the elevator.

She pressed the elevator button, causing the doors to slide apart as she walked in. Dr. Fred's office was located on the fifth floor of the building. Her heart raced with anticipation as the elevator engine roared softly.

What if the doctor just wanted to see her? He didn't exactly state any reason why he wanted to see her.

The elevator came to a stop and slid open. Kambili stepped out and began walking through the corridors towards her destination.

When she got to the doctor's office, she knocked before opening the door.

"Good morning, doctor," she greeted the doctor the moment she walked into the office.

With a smile, Dr. Fred looked up at her from his computer and gestured for her to sit down.

"Thank you, sir," she said before sitting down.

"How are you Kambili?" The white-haired man asked her placing his pen on his table as he peered at Kambili through his glasses.

"I'm fine" she replied honestly hoping he went straight to the point.

The doctor cleared his throat and peeled off the silver reading glasses from his face. Then he looked at her.

"One of my clients requires a personal doctor," he said to her. "He needs serious medical care regarding his diet"

He mentioned how he thought she was the best one for his patient.

"This is the address; you'll meet him there." Doctor Fred said and handed her a small piece of paper. "Make sure not to be late. He hates lateness. You can get his file from the attendant. File number 3"

Of course, she didn't plan to be late.

"Thank you so much, sir." She examined the address on the piece of paper: "God bless you, sir." She said, almost kneeling to thank the man.

"It's fine, Kambili. I trust you'll be good," the doctor said with a smile. Of course, he did trust Kambili. She was one of his brightest students when he taught her. And he had a little relationship with her father. He knew she was capable of taking care of just anyone.

"Thanks again, sir," Kambili said, beaming from ear to ear. The happiness she felt wasn't explainable. It was a joy out of this world. She wanted to scream out in joy but ended up computing herself as she walked out of the hospital.

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

Michael Adedeji wasn't the type to joke about his health or anything that concerned his comfortable livelihood. He hated discomfort as much as he hated cockroaches. He feared sickness and it was that fear that drove him to the doctor every once in a month for a proper check-up, and never for once had he missed any appointments.

"Is something wrong with me?" He asked the doctor, feeling a bit worried as fear clouded his thoughts.

"I'm afraid, yes. But I've run a few tests that will be ready very soon," the doctor said, going across the table to sit down. "But how do you feel?"

"I don't know, doctor. Except I'm very sure I don't like it. It's been keeping me from working well these past days." There was a portion of frustration laced in his face.

"Well, you just wait here; I'm coming." Then the doctor left to get his test results.

Michael never liked anything that had to do with getting sick; that was the reason he took his monthly checkup way too seriously. It always felt very uncomfortable and gave him feelings as though he would die. He didn't enjoy any moments spent in a hospital.

Minutes later, the doctor returned to the room with a piece of paper, which he attempted to give Michael.

"You can explain to me what it says," Michael said, looking sternly at the paper and refusing to take it.

"You have Crohn's disease."

There was a short silence as Michael tried to understand the doctor's words. Though he couldn't and didn't.

"What does that even mean?" He asked, unable to accept that something was wrong with him.

"It's an inflammatory disease that causes chronic inflammation of the GI tract, which extends from your stomach, all the way down to your anus," the doctor explained.

"What the... so why is that?" He asked

"I can't say. But do you still smoke?"

"You know I do and have for the longest time. Besides, it's just weed." Michael sniffed and adjusted himself to the seat in which he was sitting. "So what do I need to get better? I can't get sick"

"You need a doctor to help with your diet and medications. Someone who can be very close to you, and check what you eat"

"Doctor, what are you saying right now?"

"You need a home caregiver, a doctor who can take care of your diet. Watch what you eat. If not, it gets worse"

Michael was upset; he had every right to be. He didn't like drugs and he didn't like to be sick. Now he had to deal with a home doctor too and allow someone else in his space.

He wasn't liking the idea, and however the doctor wanted to do it, there had to be another way.

"For starters, I can't have a stranger around me prescribing my diets all in the name of a doctor. Can't you just list all that I should avoid? I think I can do that."

"I can't Mike, someone needs to be utterly close to you. Someone needs to help you make sure you have the right ingredients around you. At least till you are better" the doctor calmly stated.

"This is bullshit," Michael muttered under his breath. He wanted to get upset at the doctor and maybe at himself too.

"Well, I don't have any other doctor but you. How will this doctor come about?" Michael asked.

"I'll look into finding someone for you before tomorrow, and then I'll get back to you. I'll send the person to you once I find someone."

"It should be someone you are sure of. I'm very picky with the people I work with. Doc. So it has to be someone you trust too," Michael said.

The doctor laughed lightly "Don't worry" he said handing Michael the piece of paper containing his test results. But Michael declined.

"Keep the paper; I don't need it." Michael was a bit agitated as he turned to walk out of the hospital room.

"Be on time," Michael added before leaving the room.

Since first impressions mattered and she fancied it, Kambili drove to the mall to get her patient a gift. She didn't know what to get at first but she ended up getting cookies and wheat bread, then bought a fancy pack and packaged the gifts before driving to the location that the doctor had given her.

Using Google Maps, Kambili drove to the location that Dr. Fred had given her. The place was both a bookstore. Though it looked very pretty and exquisite, she wondered why the exquisite arrangement was just for reading and buying books.

Grabbing the packaged gift and her handbag, Kambili began to walk into the transparent building. A seat number had also been indicated on the piece of paper. When she got in, she walked her way to the seat number, looking out for her patient. The tables had numbers indicated above them.

There were lots of people moving around the arena. There were also seats and tables. Some of the seats were occupied by people who were reading.

Kambili walked diligently, swaying her hips side to side with a straightened posture as she went closer to the seat number. A young man was sitting at the table where she was supposed to be meeting her patient. A fine-chiseled black man, with a black shirt, a pair of blue trousers to match, and some neck chains.

He looked very calm and collected. There was a book on the table, its name she didn't understand, and a large brown envelope too. He was crossing his legs and his hands on his lap.

"He must have sent his son to meet me," she thought to herself before going over to sit down. She had only assumed her patient was going to be an elderly man.

"Good day," she said while sitting down, but the man did not respond. She ignored him. She watched his eyes savor her like she was their best meal, but she ignored them.

"I'm sorry, but I'm supposed to be meeting my patient here. Where is he?" She asked, placing the gift package on the table and bringing out the file from her bag. She still hasn't looked at the file. Michael stared at her without saying a word to her.

"Are you his son or?" She asked since he was younger than what she expected.

"You are late," he said, flexing a deep, textured voice. "You haven't even read that file in your hand" He eyed the file in her hand.

Kambili wanted to get upset with the way he spoke to her. She saw it as rude and annoying. But she couldn't allow herself to get upset. He was right. Why hasn't she read the file? Without saying a word to him, she began to open the file and began to read through it.

Kambili swallowed, hard and dry. How could she have missed checking the file the moment she got it from the hospital? She immediately blamed the circumstances surrounding the situation. And Dr. Fred should have at least prepped her.

Slowly, she looked up at the man. The man was her patient. She was certain he looked the age stated in the file.

"I'm so sorry. You are so young," she said. "I wasn't expecting..."

"A fine, sexy young man? I get." The confidence in his tone stirred up anger inside of her. It made her feel annoyed.

"I mean," she said, clearing her throat. "I mean, I wasn't expecting you to be this young. But I'm sorry for the confusion," she said very calmly.

No matter how arrogant she thought the man was, she didn't want to mind. She didn't want to get upset with him either. She still needed him to have a very good impression of her. She had already messed up the first one. She didn't want anything to defy her chances of getting the job.

Michael's eyes moved from her hair to her lips and to the gift package on the table, then back to her again.

She should have been disgusted by him, by the way his eyes moved up and down her body, but she wasn't. All she cared about was getting the job. She didn't want to care if he checked her out or whatever the hell he was doing. So she did her best to avoid eye contact with him.

"Erm, sorry about that too. You shouldn't eat that," she said, forcing out a wide but embarrassing smile as she pushed the package aside.

"All of these won't happen again. I promise, Mr...." She peered into the file again. "Mr. Michael"

"Of course, it shouldn't. I hate tardiness," his reply was cold and kind of threatening. His expression held out an authority that she admired and hated at the same time.

His tone made her feel intimidated.

"I hope Dr. Fred is right about you because I trust him." The guy said and pushed the brown envelope towards her "This is the contract; you can go through it," he said, handing her an enveloped document.

"Contract?" She was confused about why they needed a contract. Wasn't she just supposed to be his doctor and help with his diet?

"Yes. You'll move in with me. Didn't Dr. Fred say that?"

She was confused. Dr. Fred didn't mention any of that.

"You'll monitor everything I eat from now on." He added.

He was being too straightforward, and she didn't like it.

"Do I have to move in with you?" Kambili asked hoping she sounded very polite with her question.

There was silence.

"I'm a married woman," she added thinking of her husband and her marriage. Will Aaron let her?

On the other hand, she didn't want to lose her first client as a doctor. She didn't want any problem with Aaron nor did she want to lose the job. She needed the money. They needed the money.

"I love a very private life." He said. "Just go through the contract and get back to me. My email is there. Now, if you'll excuse me," he stood up, adjusted his collar, and walked out of the library with his book in his hand. Kambili stared at the document on the desk. What would she do?