Not Okay

After two days, Fred was discharged from the hospital. I also got a chance to enjoy his parents company when we all met for lunch in town before they left. Fred also resumed work and life crept slowly back to normal. Ann got a leave period of three weeks from her work place. She had been really looking forward for it for a long period. She packed her bags and left for her parents.

I moved in with Fred when he came back home and Ann left for her parents. Mike had got for some trip out of town so we got a chance to enjoy some alone time with each other. Time dragged on slowly as work got pretty busy but all of this was overshadowed by the events that were to follow.

One Saturday morning, I had gone outside to enjoy the sun when Fred came and interrupted my session.

“Are you free this evening?” he asked sitting on the grass.

“Why?” I asked.

“I thought we could do something different today. Maybe have dinner?”

“Yea, that would be a great idea. What time as I am going to visit Tina in the afternoon.”

“Around seven?” he asked.

“Okay. Just let me know the venue.” I said very excited.

“Ill text you before then.” he said and left.

I prepared myself and went to visit Tina. She was my cousin who lived on the other side of town. The last time I saw her is when she was with my mother and she had been physically abused by her husband but she had decided to stay on despite our advices. Her little girl had grown all big. we spent time together before I got a text from Fred at around six that we were to meet at the Riz Hotel. What? Why do we have to go to such an expensive hotel?

I got to know why when we sat down and started talking while waiting for food. He was very emotional and he thanked me for taking care of him while in the hospital. The food came and we started eating it silently but he was really egdy.

“Fred, what’s up?” I asked concerned.

“I’m not okay.” he answered while loosening his shirt.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ill be okay in a few minutes but not before I do this.” he said while on a bended knee.

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