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Femi lifts her like she is just a little child, and it takes me a minute before I realize he doesn’t know her. He lays her gently on my clean beige leather couch, and I cringe inward. She’s puked all over herself but what catches my attention more is the man taking care of this stranger.

He rushes into my room and comes back with my white towel. My head begins to pound.

“Not this towel. Let me get another one.” I snatch it out of his hand.

“Sorry.” He laughs nervously. “I didn’t even ask who she is. Your sister?”

He doesn’t know I have any sisters. “Ivy.”

“Oh, this is Ivy! In trouble again.”

He follows me and I keep my nice towel back on its rack in my bathroom. I get one of the old towels I use for visitors instead.

“What does she do to get herself messed up like this?”

If this wasn’t Femi, and I didn’t just break my relationship code with him, he’ll be on his way out of my house, and life.

“You’ll have to ask her when she comes to herself.” I grumble.

I don’t like cleaning messes, and the last time Ivy and I had a sane discussion, I was asking her out of my house, and she hated it. I wonder who dropped her off. Did she request to be brought here, or someone in our common circle was being malicious.

Since Luke, a couple of “friends” have withdrawn from me out of jealousy. I’m not surprised, neither do I care.

Femi heaves a heavy sigh. “Someone just spoilt my morning plans.” He runs his hand over his head, and gives me a seductive look.

Despite myself, I laugh. “As you can see, she needs to be cleaned. My parlour has already started having a foul smell.”

He winks. “Don’t think you have escaped.”

“We have to talk first.”

Again, as he did earlier, he scoops Ivy into his arms, and discretionally takes her to my guest room. I don’t feel like touching her.

I raise my voice. “I’ll get breakfast ready.”

He calls back. “Okay darling.”

I walk into my room and get air freshener to fight the stench Ivy’s left behind. Whatever Femi chooses to do with her is none of my business. I don’t like to get my hands dirty. I have a reason for not drinking to stupor.

As I peel yam, I hear the shower. Good for Ivy. When she comes to herself, I must warn her off. She’s getting out of hand, and I won’t want this to happen again. Imagine if it was Luke in my bed this morning? He’ll be so disgusted and think I don’t have good friends.

Femi returns shortly. “She’s asleep.”


Though I don’t feel grateful for what he’s done. It doesn’t change my mind about Ivy. Seems I need to finally leave my old friend behind and move on. Done was done. Our levels have changed and I can’t afford to drag a liability to my new level. I will try and talk to her to get her act together though, as a last gesture from a good friend.

“She’s on drugs.”

My head snaps round and I gasp at Femi’s statement. “What?”

He nods. “I suspect coke. I know neither of you may appreciate it but I gave her a shower. She has needle marks and they are fresh.”

“She was never—we never—did drugs.”

“It’s obvious you haven’t been too close to her lately.”

“I told her some truths and she hated me for it.”

Femi moves to hug me from behind. “I know you would have tried to help her.” He presses a kiss on my nape.

“Femi, you know we can’t.” I turn to face him, get a kiss but continue. “My boyfriend is very jealous.”

“I’m willing to share.”

“He’s not.” I dodge another kiss. “Femi, I can’t. We can’t.”

“Friends alone then.”

“You can’t crawl into my bed if we’ll be friends.”

“I’ll rather be your friend than nothing.”

He’s said it again, and it drives me crazy. I can’t be friends with him, and not want more, but I’ll die before I tell him this. He’ll only insist I break off with Luke.



Photo cropped from pixabay.com

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