CHAPTER TWELVE
Samantha stepped into the dimly lit room and seeing the figure sprawled on the bed, her heart went out to him. When the Chief Judge had told her, she hadn't brought herself to accept that it could be true. The body on the bed looked lifeless. That wasn't a good sign. She rushed to the bed and touch his arm lightly.
He jolted up, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. He looked like one; pale and frail.
She wasn't a bad person. Nothing should prompt anyone to cause someone else such pain.
No one told her, not his siblings. The Chief Judge had only told her the day before and up until she'd prayed about it, she had not had the courage to face him.
Gently, she touched his cheek, and he closed his eyes, murmuring something about ghosts and hallucinations and his mind conjuring up images. He didn't believe he was the one.
“Mark.” She called softly.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked straight into her eyes. Into her. She shivered and his eyes widened as he realized she was really there and not in his imagination.
He reached out for her, seeking reassurance, a comfort, a touch, and she couldn't deny him that. She couldn't be angry at him, not when he looked like a walking corpse. Her heart thudded and skipped as he pulled her into a fierce, frantic hug.
Crushed against him, he deftly cut off her air supply. It was with great effort that she pushed herself away to catch her breath. His eyes pleaded for her not to go and it seemed like he was trying to say something.
Blinking back tears, she took off her shoes and climbed onto the bed to get more comfortable and this time she was the one who pulled him in for the hug. She held him to herself, her heart beating thunderously. She had not meant to cause him pain. Of all things she had expected him to feel; regret, guilt, shame, anything else but pain. It ripped at her heart to see him like this.
Oh, it hasn't been easy staying away from him. Several times, she had wanted to reply his numerous text messages and mails. She had not felt physically fit to see him without breaking down.
She didn't shed tears unless it was necessary. But seeing the misery he was in, tears spilled from her eyes to his head, but he didn't feel it.
Three weeks he had been in this condition. No amount of spite should ever make someone cause such pain to another.
His breathing was calm now. She willed her heart to obey too. Steadily, hers resumed to its normal beat. She stroked him gently to comfort. She offered a simple prayer for his heart to be healed and his strength restored. His ragged breath on her as he said, 'Amen.'
Outside his bedroom, his brother, sister and mother stood. His mother had arrived a few days ago, Deborah told her, and with the warm reception she got from the older woman, she was glad that his mother probably did not know the reason for her son's ailment.
She tried to pull away and heard him murmur a protest. A lot of things she put on hold to come see him and although she wasn't leaving because of them, she thought she needed the space to get herself back in order. It wouldn't do to go see her father in such disarrayed state.
Very slowly she pulled away and made the singular error of looking into his eyes, eyes that now held a glimmer of hope in them.
Samantha bit her lower lip and with deliberate slowness, eased back to sit at the edge of the bed. His eyes bored into her as if willing her not to go away.
“I have to go,” Mark. She managed without her voice breaking.
“Samantha.” He croaked, placing a hand over hers, as if the singular action would change her mind.
With caution and with a great patience she would only use on a hysterical client, Samantha expounded. “You are weak, Mark.” Her tone was no longer gentle. “You've been hiding here the past three weeks when I was the one who got hurt. I was the one who was betrayed. Who are you hiding from? I don’t want a weak, spineless man, Mark.”
His eyes widened in shock. Shock was what she felt too at her statement, and yes, she didn’t Mark to be intimidated by her for an reason, otherwise, she would have no respect for him and she didn’t want that. No, never.
She realized she'd hit home. Mark’s eyes drifted down and his jaw ticked. She didn’t mean what she said as an insult, she hoped he realized that.
“You made a mistake and you come here wallowing in self-pity.”
He couldn't meet her eyes and when he spoke, it was very softly. “I'm sorry, Samantha. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never planned to go through with your friend's proposal anyway. And I probably should have told you, ...”
“Save it, Mark.” It simply was too much for her to bear. “I didn't come here to have you apologize. I'm here because I heard you were sick. Obviously, you didn't tell them that's a lie.”
Then she got up.
Mark quickly grabbed her hand, kneeling on the bed and looking helpless. He knew exactly how to get her attention.
“I love you, Samantha. Please, believe me.” He cradled her hand. “I love you.”
Quietly, she took his hand off hers. She'd prayed. That's why she had the strength to push him away. “So does every child I feed at the orphanage, Mark.” She picked up her phone. “If you want to apologize, you know where to find me. I won't be the one to come to you for it.”
This wasn't the Mark Grinder she knew. This was a broken shell of a man in a pitiful condition, and she was not going to be a fool to anybody.
“You have to eat the food they bring to you, Mark.” She added as an afterthought. “I won't feel guilty if anything happens to you. I'm the one who was betrayed by two people I care about. Yet, I'm not starving myself.”
Not waiting for a response, she left before she could weep or break down in front of him.
∞ ∞ ∞
She was shown into the private sitting room by a man she didn't recognize from past visits. Certainly, he was a new employee and wondered what might have happened to the other man who managed to remember each person's birthday and sent presents.
The woman that came to greet her was well into his sixties, in a purple Chinese dress, and with a flair of short auburn Bob wig. Samantha immediately recognized as Lucas's mum, Mrs. Victoria.
With a bright smile, Victoria Barigha caught Samantha in a warm motherly hug. Victoria still had her love for expensive perfumes. The fragrance was extraordinary.
“How are you, dear?”
Unable to help the smile that came, Samantha sighed happily. “I am great, Mrs. Victoria. Very great.”
Obviously. Victoria observed. 'You're glowing.'
“Realizing you've got someone's heart is enough to put springs in your steps.”
“Oh!” Delighted, Mrs. Victoria sat down, pulling Samantha beside her. “You must spill all, child.” Then, she laughed at herself. “Oh! I didn't just call you a child, did I?”
If her older brother of 36 was still a child, what was her own 32 but a toddler? Samantha mused. “Well, Lucas said you still call him a child.”
“Don't pay any heed to that boy. The day he's no longer a child to me will be the day the Lord calls me home.”
Mrs. Victoria was such a bundle of energy. Samantha had missed her so much. The times Lucas had smuggled her out of her mother's house to his were some of the best childhood memories she had. This woman had been a solid rock in all her father's disasters.
A servant entered with drinks and discreetly left.
“While we wait for your father, let's gossip a little.” She leaned over in conspiracy.
“Gossip about whom, exactly?” George Barigha's voice echoed in the room and Samantha quickly stood up.
“Good evening, Father.”
His eyes narrowed at his wife. “I hope you've not been feeding her with false information, Victoria.”
Victoria laughed. “Oh George! She's a lawyer. Information is good for her.” In an almost dismissive manner, turned her attention to Samantha. “Sit down, child. Your father's manners are always lacking. He might forget to tell you to sit back down.”
Samantha glanced at her father for permission. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sat down. She wasn't afraid of him. Neither was she as nervous as their last meeting.
“Tell me, Samantha,” George Barigha began as his wife poured a drink for him. “How is the firm?”
Samantha allowed herself a sip from her glass before answering. “Very well, Father.”
“I expect no less. You are extending soon, I hear.”
She smiled. Her father didn't file out compliments very often. “With Lagos doing so well, we're looking to start up in Port Harcourt and Uyo. Someone is already looking into a space for us in Uyo.”
He nodded in approval. “I have some good buildings in Uyo for lease.”
As successful as he was, his children really didn't want to have any business dealings with him. “We're buying.”
“It's what I would expect, of course. Soon, there would be no more lands to buy. It's better to acquire as much as you can now.” Then, he looked a bit pained as he asked. “How is your sister?”
Samantha smiled. “Rita is doing great. She'll be writing her Junior WAEC next term.”
“So says your mother.”
That was a brush-off if she'd ever heard one. Her mother and father were like oil and water. They never mixed well.
“Chief Justice Forase told me you rejected his offer. That was a wise decision and I told him so.”
Samantha looked up sharply. She'd anticipated a reprimand. “Thank you, Father.”
“I don't see a ring.” He said reproachfully.
She looked at her bare hands. She remembered what she'd told him the last phone conversation several months ago. He'd bought the news, and the silence of the reporter who had taken a neat shot of when Mark had kissed her on the roadside. An incident she'd been glad her father had quickly intervened and killed its publication.
She'd told him she and Mark were dating, letting him believe they were quite serious especially after more shots of them together were taken at different occasions. You never knew where the paparazzi were hiding.
“We had a slight misunderstanding.” An understatement. Telling him the truth would have been worse than humiliating. But then, nothing escapes George Barigha. He probably had Mark's background checked long before her second meeting with him.
His brows rose ever so slightly. “I and your mother barely speak to each other. Doesn't mean she's no longer wearing my ring. And there's Victoria...”
Victoria Barigha started to laugh, “I quite put up with you, George. You should hand me a medal.”
Samantha saw her father smile and the besotted expression on his face. Victoria would always be her father's heart. Her father still loved his wife. Deeply. She had put up with him through his good and sometimes, worse escapades. She had been through it all and still stayed at his side- his first lady come what may. His weakness was that he liked women too much for his own good.
“I hope he's not weak. A misunderstanding is not the end of the world.”
He has tried apologizing. “I just need time to sort out what to do.”
“I hope so. I wouldn't want a weak son-in-law.” He unlocked his phone. “Now, about your work, what's the progress report?”
Switching gears automatically, Samantha opened the Word document on her phone. “Based on the report I sent to your mailbox yesterday, our client base has quadrupled in the last year, mostly as a result of the Osborne vs NCC case we won, which increased sales for the Osborne Corporation, and streamlined our potential to high-powered clientele. Now, that doesn't mean that we're not taking on lesser cases, it just simply means that I have appointed new managers to handle the two divisions, which leaves me more time to visit Lagos and eventually, the other offices when they're opened.”
And so, they continued, Victoria pouring drinks and father and daughter talking business and successes.
∞ ∞ ∞
The Chief Justice entered the room, followed by Senator ThankGod. Mark had spent the time since Samantha left reflecting on what she'd said. Yes, he'd been a coward. He'd been afraid that he'd lost her already, afraid that his fear had come to hunt him. He simply hadn't realized the pain would be so unbearable.
Justice Forase sat on the single arm chair while the senator sat on the bed.
Mark sat up. He had guests. Distinguished guests at that, and it was time he began acting more civilized. After they'd gone, he could go back to his misery. He got up from the bed.
“Welcome, sir. What can I get for you?”
“What happened to you?” The senator asked.
“That is exactly what I've been asking for the past two weeks.” Justice Forase said with the decided reprimand an elder can give a child.
“What happened to you?” The senator repeated the question.
Mark sighed. It was time he told them the truth. The Chief Judge had been to see him on more occasions than his usually busy schedule allowed. Plus, his colleagues have called several times that the senator had been asking of him too. And so, on these thoughts, Mark narrated the story, leaving out the part about Samantha's proposal, including only that of her friend. At the end of his tale, the Chief Justice was roaring in laughter and the senator was deep in thought. But it was the Chief Justice who spoke first.
“Now, I see why you always avoid contacting her whenever I ask you to. You bribe Esther to do it for you.”
He was embarrassed at himself. What good had it done, keeping it to himself? She'd called him weak. Perhaps, he was weak. Maybe, if he'd told someone, he might have gotten a solution.
“You were wrong.” The senator said finally. “Your way of saying you were sorry was wrong.”
Mark looked up. He'd done what he could. He'd had little hope that she'd forgive him.
“You went to see her once, and gave up.” The senator continued. “How did you expect her to take you seriously and believe you were truly sorry when you didn't make much effort?”
“I called, texted and emailed her so many times and got no response.” He stated defensively.
“Women are creatures who bask in attention. Undivided, jealously-guarded attention. Your presence means more than any sugar-coated word you can construct and send through the air.”
Feeling guilty now, Mark looked away.
“You made a mistake, so, go to her and apologize like a man.” Justice Forase said. “If you had spent half the time you've been wallowing in self-pity pursuing her, she'd likely have forgiven you already.”
It wasn't as easy as they made it to be. She'd said she didn't want to see him. He didn't want to force his presence on her. After all, they were worlds apart.
“I didn't realize your solution to problems is hiding, boy.” The Senator regarded him coolly. “Are you going to do the right thing and fight for the one thing that can make you happy again?”
He should have thought of it. How did he expect to go back to business as usual when she wasn't going to be in it? Could he ever find the kind of joy and laughter she brought into his life? How was he going to function properly knowing that she could marry someone else someday and be happy without him while he continued to suffer the pain of losing her?
So, he nodded, in answer to the senator's question.
“Don't expect her to make it easy for you.” The senator told him. “What is worth having is worth fighting for. Do you think she's worth fighting for?”
Yeah, she is. He didn't know how he had survived without knowing her before.
The Chief Justice gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Remember why you didn't give up all your life to make something of yourself and put food on your family's table. Remember that your siblings are the reason you accepted the job offer from her friend even though it had a ridiculous curve.”
He remembered. Oh, he did. And it was time he showed himself that money shouldn't intimidate him. The two men sitting down here in his bedroom could have sent 'get well soon' cards because of their status or even ignored him. But they were here. For him. Because they cared and believed in him. It was time he had a little more faith in himself.
∞ ∞ ∞
Unsmiling, Mark walked straight to Stacy's desk, summoned a small smile for her and asked to see her boss. After all the lecture he'd received a week ago, he was not going to give up without a fight. And fight, he would.
“You know she doesn't want you here, right?” She asked.
“Don't tell her I'm here, Stacy.” He said quickly to her protest. “Just tell her anything to get her to come out.”
Stacy's brow shot up. “You know boss doesn't like to be lied to.”
He smiled at that, knowing how true that was. “This one's good for her.”
She studied him thoroughly, looking for any sign that he might be here to cause trouble. “I'll do what I can. But, …” she added sternly, “I will call security the moment you upset her.”
He nodded at that. He felt better knowing there was someone looking out for her. Touching his pocket to assure himself of the lightweight there, he felt confident that if she said 'no', he'd simply come back again till he wore her out. One of them has got to give, and he didn't plan to be the one. He'd stopped deceiving himself she was too out of his league. She saw those in her league before she approached him. So, he definitely had a chance.
He stepped forward when she appeared from her office, followed by Stacy. Her face was contorted into worry lines and quickly transformed to annoyance when she spotted him. She darted a look at her secretary who quickly scurried behind her desk to get out of the line of fire.
“She was simply following my instructions.” He attempted to clear the secretary of guilt.
Her frown remained in place. “You've got a lot of nerve coming into my office and giving my staff instructions.”
His brows quirked up. “Would you rather I'd barged into your office? I'm rather convinced that only the dramatic seem to get your attention where I'm concerned.”
She sighed and folded her arms across her chest, her gaze steady on him. This woman was made of sterner stuff. He'd failed to recognize that before.
“What do you want?” She looked him over and added, “You've recovered well enough.”
He smiled a bit. “Your visit did the trick, thanks.”
But her gaze didn't waver, and she repeated more firmly. “What exactly do you want?”
He took a step towards her and saw her eyes narrow in warning. He hesitated only a second and moved in till he was kneeling in front of her. The confidence had always been there. He just never used it, he noted. He didn't feel fear, just a sense of anticipation.
“To apologize.” He said, looking up at her, so strong, yet fragile. “I'm sorry for causing you pain, for lying to you. I was weak, like you said and that almost cost me you. But I won't make that mistake again. I'm not giving up without a fight.”
Her expression didn't change. “I'm not fighting you, Mark.”
He nodded, understanding her meaning. “No, you're not. The fight is between me and Gracie...”
“I cut off that relationship. For now,”
He felt relieved. Good. “Having a friend like that!”
She lifted her brow slightly. “You are one to point fingers.”
He smiled at that. “A man stands a better chance than she does.” When he saw her gaze remained disinterested, he continued. “I messed up big. I should have told you the truth when we became friends. You shouldn't have to find out the way things turned out. I meant to tell you...”
“You had plenty of opportunities to do that.”
She wasn't going to make this easy on him. Instead of being discouraged, he felt he needed to keep pushing. “You're right. I had plenty of opportunities to tell you and didn't. I never thought about her following through with her scheme anyway. But I wanted to teach you two a lesson that you can't always have your cake and eat it. Not everybody can be bought with your money.”
Something crossed her eyes. Shock? Puzzlement?
“Yes,” he said it as if to answer her unspoken question, “It's the reason I came back. And I was glad to find out you'd changed your mind. But your friend wasn't to be dissuaded. I tried to ignore her as much as I could. At some point, she began to call me names- nasty names. And threatened to revoke my employment.”
“If you hadn't come along, I wouldn't have known the length she'd go to accomplish evil.”
Thank God, then. “Well, I'm glad something good came out of this whole ordeal.”
She was silent, gazing at him. She was so beautiful, he thought. I have to do right by her. I can't lose her. Not after I've found her, no.
He tried to collect his thoughts. He needed words, words she like to hear from him. Could he confess all and leave himself vulnerable to wide emotions, emotions out of his control?
“You're taking up my work time, Mark. If that's all, then, I have to get back to work now.”
He grabbed her hand, standing up before she could run off. “I'm sorry, Samantha. You didn't deserve any of the things I did to you. You're a good person. Perhaps, I should have used that to my advantage and told you the truth. I know you would have understood.” Rubbing her middle finger softly, and thought of the box in his pocket. “I hope I'm not too late to receive forgiveness. I'm truly sorry for hurting you.”
Momentarily, he let go of her hands and retrieved the small box from his pocket, opening it. “Will you marry me, Samantha?”
She glared at him, not the ring that shone in radiantly at her. “You really have guts coming here for this.” She waved carelessly at the ring. “You think by declaring undying love, that I would say 'yes' and all is right?”
His whole body tensed. “I've apologized, Samantha. If that's not enough, then, I'll walk out that door and never bother you again.”
He couldn't tell where the ego was rising from. Unfortunately, he'd had enough insults at the hands of her and her friend. He'd come to apologize, and she was ridiculing him instead.
She laughed. “What peace of mind that would give me.”
Mark stilled himself against the sudden chill that attacked his spine. And closing the box, he shoved it recklessly into his pants pocket and walked away from her, every vein in his body standing taut, while he struggled to block the burn of a tear from spilling. If she'd taken a knife to his heart, that would have been a mercy. Her words had burned, and he wasn't sure he'd recover this time.
He heard his name and only managed to pull his features into a scowl as he turned to face her. She was progressing towards him, and he didn't think he could stand her being close to him without committing a crime too great for a pardon. But he stayed his feet. Heads were already popping out of cubbyholes to stare curiously at them.
“You arrogant, stubborn Grinder.”
The tears she could not hide were his undoing yet, he clamped a tight fist over his heart not to be moved by it. She'd just neatly ripped his own heart and the blood was gushing everywhere. Why were good manners so ingrained in him?
“You think you can just come here and toss around marriage proposals and storm out without a by-your-leave? And expect me to fold my hands and like a lady of genteel breed, bat my lashes and say, 'yes, sir, I'll marry you'?”
She stood in front of him now, thumping and pushing at him as a lone tear slid down her face. “You arrogant Grinder. You usually go around town proposing marriage to unsuspecting women and disappear?”
Grabbing at her both hands, he clasped them tight in his and said calmer than he was feeling. “I said I was sorry. That wasn't enough for you. I proposed marriage. You laughed me to scorn. A man can only take so much.” Keeping her hands yet restrained as she struggled to free them, so she could use them again.
Unable to extract her hands, she used her legs instead. “You go down on your knees as a proper gentleman and give me a reason to want to spend the rest of my life with your arrogance for company.”
That's it? That was why they were fighting in the middle of her office? She couldn't tell him that and had laughed at him instead?
Mark smiled then. “You simply had to ask.”
She tried a wobbly smile which caused more tears to slide down her face. “You never asked anyone how this is done, did you?”
Taking her both hands in one, he wiped at her tears with the other. “What assurance do I have that you won't use your hands again should I let them loose?' He asked softly.
She laughed shakily. “If you do it right, I won't.”
Brushing a hand over the top of her nose, he released her hands and retrieving the box from his pocket, went down on one knee.
“Silver and gold, have I none but such as I have this ring...”
There was laughter from around them, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was his if only he did this right, and he planned to. This woman, he couldn't live without.
'I can't imagine a life without you. Trust me when I say that because I tried. It wasn't a good experience. Deborah took pictures.'
Samantha laughed, even as a stray happy tear slid down her left cheek.
“I'm sorry for every pain I caused you. I'm sorry for every arrogant step I took which pushed you away from me. I hope you find this Grinder on his knees less arrogant.” Tears burned and threatened to break him, but he refused to give in. He had to tell her how he felt. He needed to make things right and go home a happy man today. No matter what happens.
'No more lies. I promise to always be honest with you and if it makes you cry, I'll wipe your tears. But this Grinder fellow, is not going to let you walk out of his life again. I love you, Barrister Samantha Barigha. I couldn't do you less than give you my heart. I hope I'm enough arrogance for you to deal with.'
“I have to try, don't I?” She laughed as tears overwhelmed her.
“This is Mark Grinder on his knees, promising to love you for the rest of his life. I guess what I'm trying to say is, will you marry me, Samantha?”
The choruses of 'yes' from her staff almost drowned out hers, but he was attuned to her. He heard her say “Yes”. All he saw was her, slipping the ring in her finger and hugged her like it was the last time he'd see her.
From behind, Stacy was dabbing at her eyes, pressing one hand to her chest and all he felt was great joy, for the prize he won- this woman in his hands. She was worth the prize of waiting all his life to meet.
Remembering the person who'd accompanied him, he turned towards the entrance, stirring her that way. “I want you to meet someone.”
As they approached the man standing by the reception, he turned to them and offered a genuine happy smile. “I see he cleaned up his mess.”
Samantha's laugh echoed through the hall. “You are Senator ThankGod.”
The senator took her outstretched hand. “I'm honored to make the acquaintance of the woman who brought this boy to his knees.”
Mark cringed, making Samantha to laugh harder. “I've heard so much about you, sir. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“So, where is the celebration taking place?”
Mark darted a look at Samantha, seeing a confirmation of what he'd been thinking about himself. “We have to see our Pastor and inform her parents.”
The senator nodded. 'The boy has wisdom but doesn't use it often enough. “Do what you have to do. I'm around till the weekend.”
Mark smiled his thanks. “Thank you, sir.”
“I'll be informed of any new developments, I trust.”
“Yes, sir. I'll let you know when.”
The senator focused his attention on Samantha. “It's a delight to meet you in person. I've only met your father once. I believe I now have a reason to meet him again, if I'm invited to the wedding, that is.”
Samantha's features stiffened. “Of course, Senator.”
As the senator waved them goodbye, Mark looked at her sharply, wondering why she'd suddenly tensed up when she'd been so happy only a moment ago. It was painful to watch her withdrawal. And as he led her back to her office, he prayed all was well.