“I can’t believe you went behind my back and told Mom and Dad about our issues, Agyeiwaa! What were you thinking? Didn’t I tell you not to let them know anything about me and Winnie? Ah!”

Agyeiwaa sighed as the expected venting of spleen erupted on the other side of the phone. She knew this would be coming, and had been waiting for it to come. The moment she saw her older brother’s name flash across her phone, she knew it was going to go down.

Was she worried, though? Not in the slightest.

This couple had been stubborn long enough, and their refusal to open up was killing them. She was not ready to keep silent anymore.

She calmly replied, “Nicky, they’re our parents. They care about you. I thought they could help.”

Sarcastically, he jabbed, “Help? All they did was give us some simplistic advice about leaving notes and planning surprise dates. Like that’s going to fix everything.”

Agyeiwaa let out a sigh as she held the phone to her ear. “Nicky, you need to calm down. Mama and Papa are just trying to help.”

“Help? By giving us this ridiculous advice about leaving notes and planning surprise dates? How the hell is that going to fix anything? Huh? Tell me, how will that solve anything?”

“Nicky, they’ve been married for over 30 years, and they’re marriage counselors. You know this as well as I do. Maybe you should humble yourself and listen to them.”

“Yeah, sure! Because planning a surprise date for an irritant of a woman is the secret to a successful marriage. Brilliant advice. How the hell did I never think of that?”

Agyeiwaa shook her head. This anger was really doing a number on Nicky, with that sarcastic comment. For someone who had seen his parents successfully live thirty years together and heard stories of how they had helped many couples, he sure was acting dismissively. “Nicky, they know what they’re talking about. Instead of scoffing, try to see the wisdom in their words. They’ve been through a lot and have helped countless couples.”

“I don’t need their advice, Agyeiwaa. I know my own marriage better than anyone else. And I know this simplistic tosh won’t help. The only thing I need is to end it. Period.”

The call ended.

She stared at her phone and sighed. Just as she had expected somewhat. “This guy and his temper,” she muttered as she placed the phone back on the table as she got back to her work. “Always letting it spring up in situations like this. I know him, though. Eventually, he’ll realize how disrespectful his words were, and he’ll apologize…”

***

Winnie sat at her desk in the bustling office, sifting through a stack of papers as her mind still weighed heavy with the advice of her parents-in-law.

Replaying the conversation in her mind, she felt irritated all over again. They may have offered well-meaning advice, suggesting that she and Nicky should go back to the basics of their relationship to work through their problems. But to her, their words felt like a slap in the face.

“They don’t understand,” she muttered bitterly to herself, her voice dripping with frustration. “Going back to the basics won’t fix anything. They don’t appreciate how serious our issues are.”

She was still highly irked at the suggestion that holding her anger in instead of telling Nicky outright how it hurt her was not the best thing to do. He knew her very well, didn’t he? Why would she have to tell him that she was offended by his actions? He was supposed to know his words were offensive!

“Putting the blame on me, as if I provoked him. What a joke,” she continued to mutter to herself, her irritation fuelling her work. “And after that, you give us some base advice. As if we’re just some joke bi. Nahh, if I had known sef, I would have let him go by himself. Ah! Such disrespect…”

As she sorted through the documents while talking to herself, Winnie overheard snippets of conversation from nearby colleagues. She looked in their direction.

It was Lawrence and Chioma, standing at the former’s table. The latter was probably telling one of her stories. From the awed look on Lawrence’s face, Winnie could tell it was one of her inspirational stories. You were always likely to get that or a rib-cracking story that would leave you in stitches.

She couldn’t hear much, since they were quite a distance away from her table, but a few words were spoken loud enough to her hearing.

“See eh, don’t underestimate small actions ooo. They can do big things. Something as simple as a kind word or a thoughtful gesture can completely change someone’s day. Na even the Bible talks about how this tiny tongue in your mouth can cause major damage or major blessing, depending on what you choose.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Me sef, I never realized how much of a difference those small acts of kindness can make until last year on Valentine’s Day. So I didn’t have too much money, but I decided to get a little something for Luna…”

At that, Winnie paused.

Her mind drifted back to the advice her parents-in-law had offered. As they echoed in her mind, along with the words she just heard, a part of her suddenly voiced up.

What if they’re right? There is some truth to the notion that the smallest things can make a huge impact. What if it’s the same for this one…

She immediately shook her head. “Nah, forget it,” she scoffed. “Even if it’s true kraaa, not for this guy. This… this incorrigible, nasty man I made the mistake of marrying. Please! There’s no way I’m making any effort for him. It’ll be nothing but a waste.”

Despite her inner turmoil, though, a small part of her couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that lingered at the edge of her consciousness. What if Mr. and Mrs. Koomson were right? What if she had been too quick to dismiss the idea of reconciliation?

Lost in her thoughts, Winnie found herself torn between her stubborn pride and that faint glimmer of hope that whispered of the possibility for reconciliation. She knew that she needed to make a decision, but the uncertainty left her feeling paralyzed, unsure of which path to take.

She sighed. What do I do, what do I do…

***

“Fifteen thousand Ghana cedis! He’s not serious!” Nicky snarled to himself as he launched himself into his car seat, furious at his latest visit to a law firm. This lawyer he had met seemed ready to take up the case, not asking about whether he had tried reconciling. However, he went right ahead to quote a fee that had Nicky almost yelling ‘What!’ at the top of his voice.

When he admitted that he had put aside only three thousand Ghana cedis for this, the lawyer shook his head and told him that would not be acceptable. He pleaded passionately to no avail, with the lawyer refusing to take up his case. Once he realized the man had no interest in helping him, he lost his cool and stormed out the same way he did at Dominus.

“Outrageous!” he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with contempt as he put his seat belt on. “Who do they think they are, charging an arm and a leg for a few pieces of paper? Rubbish!”

As he revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, his mind buzzed with plans and strategies to make his way out. Chief among those thoughts was the idea to handle it all by himself.

“I don’t need them,” he declared vehemently, his voice ringing with conviction. “I’ll handle this on my own. To hell with all these lawyers and their greedy ass schemes to get rich off some cheap matters. I’ll do it alone. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to the nearest court and I’ll start working on it. Simple.”

***

Later that evening, his car pulled up at the front of the house as always. He stepped out, his mood slightly better than it was a few hours ago. The anger from Agyeiwaa’s annoying calmness after defying his order, the lawyer demanding huge amounts of money, and the simplistic advice of his parents had weighed heavily on him throughout the day, but he had decided to calm down a bit.

As he closed the door, he shut his eyes and sighed at the sight of the lights. “Lord, please, I need peace. If You could silence that woman’s mouth for the rest of the night, I’d be extremely grateful.”

He then walked up to the front door and entered the house.

Instantly, his nostrils were slapped with a very familiar aroma.

The aroma of beef jollof and chicken wafting through the air.

An aroma that he loved so much; it was one of his all-time favourite dishes.

He raised an eyebrow. Ah, what’s going on? Is she… who is she making that food for?

As he stepped into the dining room, he found the dining table set with his favorite meal nicely laid out.

Winnie emerged from the kitchen, her expression neutral, as she observed Nicky’s reaction.

“I thought I’d make your favorite for tonight– beef jollof and chicken.”

Nicky eyed the food, torn between his lingering frustration and the tempting aroma of the dish. What the hell is this woman up to? Is she falling for that basics crap or something? Because it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than that.

After a brief pause, debating on what to do, he decided to sit down at the table. He had complained before that she no longer cooked, and he was feeling a bit hungry. And hey, it was beef jollof, his favourite! His stomach would definitely be furious with him for rejecting it. He curtly nodded at Winnie, and in a hesitant tone, uttered, “Thanks.”

As he began eating, the flavour of the food hit all the right spots, reminding him of better times when he was in a good mood and was happy to see the cooker of the food. The tension in the room remained as it was, though, with neither party talking to the other. Winnie, though seemingly calm, couldn’t hide the dryness in her expression as she continued to observe Nicky.

Fifteen minutes in, and Nicky had finished his meal in silence, the clinking of his fork against the plate the only sound in the room. As he pushed the plate away, Winnie spoke up.

“I hope you enjoyed it.”

He responded dryly. “It was fine. Thanks.”

Winnie’s dry expression remained unchanged as Nicky rose from the table and headed towards the bedroom. He nodded stiffly at her. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She nodded back and snorted. “Goodnight.”

As good as that dinner was, Nicky couldn’t bring himself to muster genuine enthusiasm in thanking her for it. The chasm between them was far too wide to expect anything less than this; this communication was probably the most civil they had been to each other in a long time.

As he duly retreated to the bedroom, however, he felt a bit of a conflict in his soul.

A conflict he couldn’t quite place his finger on…

***

Winnie sighed as she looked at the empty plate before her.

She didn’t know how to feel.

She had done it. She gave in to the still, small voice that had encouraged her to do something for him and came home early to prepare food for him.

And now that he had left for the room, she wasn’t sure whether to feel peeved or glad, or a mixture of both.

I mean, he didn’t say he’s not hungry. And he finished everything. And we didn’t shout at each other, I guess. Yet, I… I don’t know. I feel like there’s more he should have done. This is his favourite food, after all. Or am I reaching?

Ahh, well, I don’t know. Lemme just clear this table…

Is this promising? They didn’t fight, and he ate the food. Hmmm, well, let’s see how it goes…