Part 1
I was eighteen when Mom took me to the hospital for sneezing too loudly, and that was when it all started.
The hallway and emergency units were overcrowded with all kinds of people.
A man in a wheelchair.
A woman forcing her breast into the mouth of a wailing infant.
A very pregnant woman screaming at the top of her voice and pulling out what was left of her husband’s scanty hair.
A nurse trying to remove beans from the nostril of a toddler who seemed to find everything happening around him to be funny.
It was chaotic– yet somehow, while taking it all in, my eyes seemed to stop of their own accord on a doctor who had also paused in his tracks.
Time stood still as we looked at each other for a brief moment that felt like an eternity.
I didn’t know what it was, even when Mom and I were ushered into the consulting room a few minutes later, and we found him there as the attending doctor.
As my mom explained the reason we were in his office, I was… reasoning him, honestly, as my friends would say.
They’ve been in the dating world longer than I have.
Some started as early as age 13.
And here I was, never having been involved in such a charade, yet innocently gawking at a man in broad daylight.
He looked young, but I could tell he was older than he seemed.
He had a white moustache and neatly cut wavy hair with sharp edges like a male model on the front page of Vogue.
There was something different, and fascinating… about seeing such a fine, mature man in a doctor’s scrub and a stethoscope.
My mother brought me back to life with a gentle tap on my lap. I looked up and saw both her and the doctor staring at me.
“Can you tell me exactly how you feel, especially when you sneeze?” he said, staring at me in a way that made me adjust my posture like he knew what he was doing to me.
I bit my lower lip like a girl caught with a stolen stick sweet, then answered his question.
He asked me to lie on the examination bed in the office, and I did like an obedient Isaac.
He came closer, removed his stethoscope, and placed it on my chest.
My heart stopped, at least, it felt like it, as I watched him listening to it.
I’m not sure he had much to listen to, though…
My eyes went to his ring finger, and I found none.
Not even a trace that one had ever sat there.
That was the beginning of my relationship with Doctor Solomon Adekunle.
Part 2
I didn’t care about the 26-year age gap between us.
He made me feel seen and safe.
I was feeling emotions I had never felt before, not even when the hottest boy in school sent me the longest love letter our school had ever seen back in high school. The same guy that girls were dying to date.
But Dr. Solomon felt different.
“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he said one of the days I stopped by his office just to say hi.
“We’re not doing anything wrong. You promised to wait until I’m ready for any intimacy, right? And I’ll be nineteen in a few months. I’m an adult, so I don’t see us crossing any line here,” I replied, trying to calm him down.
“Live a little,” I added sweetly before bouncing out of his office.
It’s my first year at the neighbourhood’s university, and I still go home every day because it’s close to our house. For the first time, I was grateful to my parents and brothers for insisting I choose that school. I fought them hard during my school application days, but they wanted me close so they could monitor my movement.
Well, I met Solomon by being close to home, joke’s on them. I just stopped by my man’s office after class before heading home; I laughed like a little witch in my head.
One day, I walked home dreaming about how many children we’d have once we married.
He’s a single man who has never been married; he told me it was because of all the medical exams he had to prepare for to become the sought-after doctor he is now. He even owns the biggest hospital in our town, where I met him.
Guys, I know you might think he’s too old for me, but this is a new age, and he’s hot, not old.
I don’t go to nightclubs like my friends, because I have a boyfriend who’s busy saving lives. So, I stayed home to study and chat with him whenever he was free.
My parents are happy to see me around more, so everyone should be happy I found my one-in-a-million this early.
Part 3
On the last Friday in June, we went on a date in the late hours of the night, which was his only free time that month, after we had to cancel several plans.
I was over the moon that we could finally breathe outside the hospital and the endless chat boxes on our phones.
I had lied to my family that I would sleep over at school for a group study session with friends. But, ladies and gentlemen, I went straight to my friend’s hostel after class that evening and glammed up for my boyfriend.
I wore the black gown he had ordered for me weeks ago from the latest collection by my favourite celebrity designer. He’d given me his card to book a makeup artist, and I even got a new wig. I waited for him to clock out and pick me up at my friend’s place until 9 PM.
Just when I thought he had another emergency surgery, I got his text:
“I’m at the gate.”
I jumped up, and off we went.
He looked sharp in jeans and a crisp white shirt, his cologne smelled heavenly, and a relaxed smile sat pretty on his face. I was so pleased to see him relax, rather than the worry he usually wears when he is in scrubs treating his patients.
Don’t get me wrong, he looks good either way, but I prefer this side of him.
We laughed richly, ate good food, and the dessert was amazing.
We had deep conversations, and I was flowing and basking in the moment.
Just as we were getting the bill to call it a night, someone strolled over to our table, a wide smile on her lips and humour dancing in her eyes.
It was Nurse Esther, one of the younger nurses in training at his hospital.
“Good evening, Doctor. Hi, Vivian,” she greeted.
“I came here to get a late dinner when I heard your voice, and I thought to say hello before leaving,” she continued casually.
They exchanged pleasantries, and she left.
We also rounded up the night, and Solomon dropped me off at my friend’s place with a packed meal he had bought for her. He also gave me other gifts he’d brought along earlier.
But I couldn’t shake off the mischievous look Nurse Esther gave me at the restaurant as I walked toward my friend’s door at 10:54 PM.
It was my last thought as I slept later that night.
Part 4
I didn’t see Nurse Esther in the few weeks that followed. I had made a mental note to talk to her the next time I did, but she was nowhere in sight.
One evening, I brought it up with Solomon.
“I don’t know,” I said, casually stirring the topic into our conversation. “There was just something about the look Nurse Esther gave us that night. It didn’t sit right with me.”
He chuckled, brushing it off. “You’re overthinking things. Do you think you’re the only one who finds me hot?”
He winked, his signature smirk dancing on his lips.
“She’s probably just jealous. I’ve turned down her advances, and others… for years. They just can’t believe I’m finally in love.” he added.
I nodded, “Hmm.”
I mean, it made a lot of sense.
So I let it go, and we moved on to other things.
Our love kept growing, deeper by the day. The chemistry between us was undeniable. Plus, the fact that we haven’t been intimate made it feel even more special to me. I felt safe and seen.
Like, I wasn’t losing anything but gaining everything.
To me, we were just two people who genuinely loved and cared for each other. The world could judge us and burn with opinions, we had each other, and that was all that mattered.
The following week, I was at the supermarket in town with my mum.
While she was browsing through spices, I strolled a few aisles away to pick up toiletries when I heard:
“Hi, Iyawo.”
I looked up, and it was Nurse Esther.
I panicked and glanced around to see if my mum was nearby. Thankfully, she was still a few shelves away.
“Can you lower your voice?” I whispered. “My mum’s here. They don’t know yet.”
“Oh… they don’t know you’re dating a man old enough to be your father?”
“Wait, why are you so jealous?” I snapped quietly. “What’s the problem with Solomon finding happiness in me?”
She tilted her head, raising a brow. “Jealous?”
Then she let out a short, dry laugh.
“No, dear. Maybe two years ago, I would’ve been. But definitely not now… not after what I know about who he really is behind that charming smile of his.”
She leaned in closer, her voice low and firm. “I’m only a few years older than you. Take this as sisterly advice…run while you still can.”
Just then, my mum’s voice cut through the tension. “Is there a problem?”
Esther straightened and smiled politely. “Nothing, ma. I was just telling Vivian about some effective workout routines for her weight loss journey.”
“Oh, thank you, Nurse! I thought I recognised your face,” my mum said warmly before walking off.
Yes, I’m chubby. I had been experiencing chest pains and shortness of breath alongside the nonstop sneezing; during our hospital visit, Doctor Solomon had casually mentioned that my weight might be affecting my breathing, especially during physical activities.
He suggested exercise and even recommended a gym.
My parents had signed me up– it turned out to be the same gym he uses. It quickly became one of our favourite meeting spots.
He would guide me through workouts, always so gentle, encouraging me and assuring me I could do it.
Esther’s warning lingered, but I shook it off.
She was obviously still bitter.
Jealousy wrapped in fake concern.
I chose not to think too much of it and went back to shopping with my mum.
Part 5
I’m 25 years old now. After a lot of back and forth and the intervention of extended family members, I got married to the love of my life at the age of 21. I had just resumed my final year in school.
My parents said I was too young and that he was too old for me, but a lot had changed. Solomon was getting impatient about intimacy. I could read the longing in his eyes.
He had become a little aggressive, too, but I loved him, and I understood his needs. I mean, he was a man who had loved me for years, even when I had nothing to give him.
He pampered me, saw me at my lowest, and I was one of the top five students in school because he helped with my studies. He was also growing older, so yes, I fought everyone to have the wedding.
And it was amazing. A few people whispered about the age gap, but I didn’t care.
There was nothing to be ashamed of; he is good-looking, a man who takes his appearance seriously.
Some people even supported our decision, telling my parents, “At least she didn’t get pregnant out of wedlock.” They praised Solomon for wanting to do the right thing before putting me in the family way.
He was super sweet, I had a great time during the honeymoon, and when we returned, we went back to our routine.
On days when he was not pulled out of bed in the middle of the night for emergencies, he would drop me off at school before heading to the hospital.
Somehow, we made it work…
Then one morning, my amazing husband woke up beside me and said he didn’t want me seeing my friends anymore, and that I could only visit my parents, who lived nearby, once a year.
I asked him why, and he said, “You’re now a married woman.”
He was still sweet to me, but I was lonely in the marriage. Our love started fading like a spirit leaving its body.
I graduated a few months later with a 4.98 GPA– the highest in my department and the entire faculty.
…
My parents came to celebrate at my convocation, the first time I’d seen them since the wedding. A few friends joined too, and I felt alive again, surrounded by familiar faces.
Then, with a smile, Solomon dragged me aside and whispered in my ear, “I hope you know you won’t be using that certificate.”
I stared at him, unsure I’d heard him correctly.
“Yes, now,” he continued. “You have no reason to work. I have all the money you need. You’ll stay at home and be ready to take care of our children, which, from the look of things, you’re already carrying our firstborn.”
He eyed me from head to toe, and my whole body went cold.
How could he know I was pregnant before I did? Sometimes I forget he’s a doctor. I had blamed the delay in my period on school stress, but that’s not the point right now.
What did he just say?
I was almost 22 at this time, and I left school that day with no idea what the future held and a lot of unstructured questions in my mind.
Is this marriage?
What is marriage?
Well, now that I am 25, I can tell you what the last three-plus years have held.
I’m standing in front of the family court, the signed divorce papers in one hand, a toddler clinging to the other, and a crying infant on my hip.
Solomon walks away without a glance, heading for his car.
I turned to my car, and my driver opened the door.
We headed to my parents’ house, the same house where they said I was too young to leave.
This time, I’ll listen to them.
I don’t know what comes next, but I’ll start with what I have: my children, my degree, and the will to try again.
