For maximum enjoyment, make sure you've read part 1 here.
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Ladi sat at her desk, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, the glow of her laptop screen illuminating the unshed tears in her eyes. The words in her report blurred together, not because she was exhausted, but because of fear. The fear had laid a cold hand on her in the doctor’s office as he told her the diagnosis. That deep, bone-chilling fear that she hadn’t been able to shake off had gradually spread over her body, making her feel cold. She repeated his words: "We caught it early, but it’s still serious. You’ll need treatment, and it won’t be easy.”
She had nodded, absorbing the information in silence. But now, days later, the weight of those words pressed on her like a boulder, suffocating her.
She did not tell Chenu.
How could she? She had seen this story play out before—her father walking out on her mother when things got hard after her illness. She remembered the nights her mother had cried, the way her shoulders had sagged under the weight of abandonment and the illness. Ladi had sworn never to put herself in that position. If she never told Chenu, she would never have to see the look of pity—or worse, the slow retreat, the excuses, the empty spaces where his presence used to be. She would bask in his love while it lasted. She decided she wasn’t quite ready to fight the fear.
So, she built walls. Smiled at everyone else, but not at him. She couldn't afford to see his love and let it soften her resolve. She would deal with this alone. It was safer that way.
But Chenu wasn’t one to be pushed away easily. He had noticed her withdrawal, and tonight, he wasn’t letting it slide.
“Ekum” His voice was gentle but firm, as he laid a hand on her shoulder. “What is going on? We promised to do life together, but now you are doing it alone. Do you think God is pleased?”
“Please, leave me alone. I am not done with my report” she snapped, gripping her coffee cup like a lifeline.
Chenu didn’t move. He watched her for a moment, then simply said, “No.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “No?”
“No, I won’t leave you alone.” He took a step closer. “Not when you’re hurting. Not when you’re shutting me out.”
The lump in her throat grew unbearable. The weight of her secret pressed down on her, crushing her resolve. And then, before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out in a whisper, barely audible.
“I’m sick, Chenu.”
His expression didn’t change at first. He just stood there, the air between them thick with unspoken things. Then he reached for her, pulling her up into his arms. This time, she didn’t resist.
“I’m here,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ladi closed her eyes, the first tear slipping down her cheek. For the first time since the diagnosis, she let herself feel.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4
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Chenu sat in the dim light of his study, his laptop open, the glow reflecting in his tired eyes. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he scrolled through medical journals, patient testimonials, and treatment options. A lump sat in his throat, but he swallowed it down. He couldn’t afford to falter—not now. Not when Ladi needed him the most.
He had known something was wrong, had felt the distance growing between them. But he had never expected this. The diagnosis sat in his mind like an immovable weight, yet he refused to crumble under it. He wouldn’t be like her father. He wouldn’t walk away.
Determined, he combed through her medical records, deciphering the cold, clinical language that dictated their new reality. He took notes, mapped out specialists, and even looked into financial options. If necessary, he would take loans, sell one car, get a side hustle—whatever it took to ensure Ladi had access to the best care available.
But how could he make her see that? How could he convince her that he wasn’t going anywhere, that she didn’t have to bear this alone? He replayed their conversations over the past week, the way her eyes had shuttered, her shoulders stiffening whenever he got too close. She was pushing him away, guarding herself against a heartbreak she expected.
It hurt for her to compare him with her father, made him feel like she thought the worst of him, and saw him as someone who was only there for the good times. He had always known Ladi carried wounds from her past, but this? This fear that he would abandon her just as her father had left her mother—it shattered him. Hadn’t he spent years proving to her that he was different? That she was safe with him?
He wished she had more confidence in him. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on all that. Now was the time to stay with her, stand with her, fight with her, fight for her, and pray with and for her.
He exhaled sharply and closed his laptop. He finally had a plan. Tomorrow, he would sit her down, look her in the eyes, and tell her exactly what he intended to do. And if she was too scared to believe in forever, he would prove it to her, one day at a time.
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