It was freezing and I was wrapped up in warm clothes and blanket. The gentle crackle of the firewood cast flickering shadows upon the cream fluffy rug. The tree stood tall and proud in the corner, dozens of Christmas baubles and tinsel were spread evenly on the tree. Wrapped presents of gold, red and green sat proudly under the Christmas tree, waiting to be transported to Nigeria. It was two days to Christmas and Alex suggested we travel to Nigeria to celebrate Christmas with my family. I was sitting on my wheelchair, waiting for Alex to get done with the packaging so we could go to the airport.
After our honeymoon two months ago, I had been taken to see the best physiotherapists in US, England and India but the case still remained that I would not be able to walk again. “Some of us don’t have happy endings anyway” I had resigned to my fate. Alex had proved to be a loving, supportive husband and we were expecting our baby in eight months. I was already a month gone!
Outside, the sound of Christmas carols could be heard. Don’t save it all for Christmas day by Celine Dion played softly from the house next door. Our neighbor, Mr and Mrs Brown were old but nice couples, they had welcomed us lovingly when we just got to the hood months ago.
I grabbed my cup of steaming hot chocolate and took a sip. I was not only going to celebrate Christmas with my mom, I was also going to face my dad and listen to his side of the story. Alex had really pleaded with me to give the man a chance to explain himself and I had scheduled Christmas period, when I would be travelling from US to Nigeria. I was ready to listen to the story, why he left my mother to take care of me alone.
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