February by Nick Nwaogu - HTML preview

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EMEKA (persuasively)

 

I’m certainly not ready in any way to be a father. You know this already. My career had just started; financial stability is a long way coming. I’ve told you this countless times.

 

Amara is silent, chewing her food loudly and annoyingly, in a bid to infuriate Emeka. He breathes out heavily.

 

EMEKA (CONT’D)

Say something!

 

Amara doesn’t break her silence. She lifts her glass of wine slowly to take a sip when she remembers that she’s pregnant and can’t consume alcohol, so she drops it, slowly, looking at Emeka while she PAINFULLY swallows the food in her mouth. After swallowing, she looks back to her plate and STABS a piece of fried plantain with her fork, clearly brimming with rage. Neither couples are having a great time.

 

We return to Uche and Chioma.

 

UCHE

But this is your favorite restaurant. You’ve never complained about the food here. You even introduced me to this place. Remember?

 

UCHE (CONT’D)

Is there something bothering you that I should know about? You don’t seem yourself tonight. Is there anything you aren’t telling me that I ought to know about? You know you can always talk to me about anything.

 

Uche throttles Chioma to explain her sudden oblivion and change in taste of food.

 

UCHE (CONT’D) (impatient)

Will you say something, please?

 

Chioma breaks her silence with blatant lies:

 

CHIOMA

I think it’s just the stress at work this week. My boss has been too demanding. The pressure is getting too much. That’s all.

 

She forces a smile on her unnatural lips.