After the Laughter

It was a hot afternoon, the kind that clung to the skin even after the sun had begun to soften. Felix’s car rolled quietly into th e compound, gravel crunching beneath the tires. He stepped out, loosening his collar, the weight of the day still resting on his shoulders. “Welcome, sir,” the driver said respectfully. “I hope you had a good day.” Felix nodded, tired but calm, took his suitcase, and walked into the house. The moment he crossed the doorway, she was there. Mrs Julian Felix Ade. She took the suitcase from his hand like it weighed nothing, wrapped her arms around him, pressed her cheek to his chest, then kissed him—slow, familiar, full of warmth. “Baby, I’ve missed you,” she said softly. “I missed you too, darling,” he replied, his voice easing as if the house itself had washed the stress away. They settled into the sitting room, the curtains drawn just enough to let the afternoon light spill in. “How was work today?” she asked. “I’ve already served food. Just go upstairs, freshen up. I made something really delicious—you’ll love it. I told the chef to take the day off. Today is just me and you.” Felix smiled. He went upstairs, showered, changed, and while toweling his hair, his phone buzzed on the dresser. Three missed calls. He glanced at the screen, frowned slightly, then dismissed it. Whatever it was could wait. When he came back downstairs, the dining table stopped him in his tracks. Jollof rice, rich and fragrant. Fresh coleslaw. A full grilled chicken, golden and glistening. “Mmm,” he said, amused. “You really want to take care of me today.” She laughed lightly. “It’s the weekend. If I don’t take care of you now, when will I? I want us to have this weekend to ourselves. I want to be the most romantic wife you’ve ever, ever, ever seen.” “I’m beginning to enjoy this,” he said as he sat. She sat beside him. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked. “Of course I will,” she said. “I just want to watch you first.” “Come on,” he teased. “Sit by my side.” Instead, she sat on his thigh. They laughed. She fed him. He fed her. They ate from the same plate, fingers brushing, eyes lingering longer than necessary. His phone rang again. He ignored it. She glanced at the table. “Who’s that, baby? Don’t you want to pick it?” “No,” he said easily. “It’s work. You already said this weekend is for us. Let’s ignore it. Let’s just face each other.” They finished eating, unhurried. “So,” she said, resting her chin in her palm, “what happened at work today?” He told her everything—meetings, progress, wins. She smiled, then said, “I was at the store today. Business is doing fine. My girls are nice. But can you believe Toby tried to steal from me?” Felix’s brows drew together. “What? Did you fire her?” “Yes,” she said calmly. “I switched the POS back, took the money she took, and let her go.” “You didn’t get her arrested?” “No, baby. She’s not worth our anger. I’ve handled it.” He looked at her with admiration "you are too kind my love" They talked about the past—how young they were, how careful, how intentional. How Felix had been a struggling man with nothing but vision and faith. “You remember when you wanted to touch my waist and I didn’t let you?” she teased. “Yes,” he laughed. “You said we were saving each other.” “And I was right,” she said. “Because if you had touched me, it would have been chaos.” Felix held her “I’m so happy I married you. You’ve made me the happiest man alive" Then they went upstairs without saying much, like words would only get in the way. Felix’s hand stayed on Julia’s lower back the whole time, warm, steady, claiming. The door closed softly behind them, but the silence was loud — thick with everything they weren’t saying. She turned to him, and for a second they just stood there, too close, breathing the same air. His forehead rested against hers. He could feel her breath on his lips. Slow. Shaky. Dangerous. When he pulled her into his arms, it wasn’t rushed. It was deep, intentional. Like he’d missed this exact shape of her. Julia melted into his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt, holding on like she didn’t want him slipping away again. Their lips met — not desperate, not hurried — just hot. The kind of kiss that starts soft and slowly forgets how to behave. She tilted her head slightly, her mouth parting without meaning to. He kissed her again, longer this time, and she let out a quiet breath that made his grip tighten. Her back hit the wall gently. Felix’s hand slid up her side, lingering, learning. Julia looked up at him then — eyes dark, lips swollen, breath uneven. She bit her lower lip without realizing it, and that alone nearly broke him. “Felix…” she whispered, like a warning. He kissed her again instead of answering. Slower now. Deeper. His hand rested at her waist, thumb brushing circles that sent heat straight through her. Her hands explored his shoulders, his neck, pulling him closer like there still wasn’t enough space between them. Time stretched. Everything else disappeared. Eventually, the fire softened into something calmer, warmer. He guided her to the bed, and they lay down together, still tangled, still close. Julia rested her head on his chest, his arm wrapped firmly around her like a promise. No rush. No crossing lines. Just warmth. Just closeness. Their breathing synced. The world finally quieted. And like that — still holding each other — they drifted into sleep. Two hours later, Felix woke. He kissed her cheek, her neck, then sat up, staring at the ceiling. She turned. “What’s wrong, baby?” “I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I’m just… grateful.” “Grateful for what?” “For you,” he said, looking at her. “I can’t believe I get to call you my wife. You’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me. I thank God for you.” “Felix,” she whispered. “You’ll make me cry.” “I don’t want tears,” he said. “Just know I love you.” They kissed. Cuddled again. Then they heard shouting. They went downstairs. At the gate, the gateman rushed toward them. “Oga, there’s a problem outside. People are fighting.” Felix grabbed his robe and stepped out. And that was when he saw her. One of his girlfriends—furious, loud—struggling against the driver, who was trying desperately to keep her from entering the compound. “oga,Its a mad woman outside,” the driver said breathlessly. Julian stepped forward slowly. “Felix,” she said, her voice steady but sharp. “What is going on here?” And just like that, the silence shattered.