Something Like Tender
EP 14- Permit me to serve you
The kitchen was already awake before the sun fully settled into the sky. Moyibo stood by the cooker, flipping eggs in a shallow pan while the scent of onions and pepper drifted through the room.
Tore arranged bowls on the counter, scooping soups and stews into them with practiced ease, while Kohwo leaned beside her, talking rapidly about school.
Tore laughed between his sentences.
He continued, and she shook her head. “Private school people, you guys can complain ehn. Try it in federal now, you go hear wen.”
From the doorway, Moyibo laughed as she walked back in. “Your friends are receiving premium entertainment.”
“Ahnahn,” Tore said, grinning. She placed a finger to her lips at Kohwo, who only laughed harder.
In the living room, their dad’s voice carried clearly. He was telling Joyce and Hadiza stories about Orogun, his mother’s village, where iguanas were revered and never eaten.
“As an Isoko man, I can eat it,” he said, “but because my mother forbade it, so my father honoured her by forbidding it too.”
“Ogborigbo,” Hadiza repeated slowly, tasting the native name of iguana.
Tore chuckled.
“Yes, that is it. Very good. Ogborigbo.” Tore’s dad said, and Tore could hear the grin in his voice.
A moment later, Tunde walked into the kitchen.
“Wow. No wonder my stomach has been rumbling.”
His eyes swept over the bowls for a moment before he stretched out his hand toward Tore. She stepped closer, and he drew her gently against his side, his arm resting across her shoulders.
“Your meeting lasted longer than you said,” Tore said, smiling as she eased out of his hold.
He nodded and shook Kohwo’s hand. “That is their nature. At least I don’t have to be there today, which is great.” He pointed at the egusi. “Please, can I have some of this?”
“Of course. Let me finish packing for Kohwo.”
“Thank you very much,” he said, then turned to Moyibo. “Good morning, Moyibo.”
Moyibo smiled. “Good morning, Tunde.”
While everyone else gathered at the dining table, Tore’s dad and Joyce remained in the living room, eating from the small table in front of them.
“Sir, can we continue what you were telling me about the migration from Benin?” Joyce’s voice drifted from the living room.
Tore laughed from the dining table. “Wonderful. Joyce, you’re really having a blast.”
Everyone joined her laughter.
“Daddy is the happiest man alive right now,” Moyibo said, holding her fork up. “Nobody in this house gives ears to his stories.”
“A prophet is not honoured at home,” Hadiza added, and the laughter rose again.
The sound was cut short by Tore’s phone ringing on the table. She squinted at the unknown number and answered.
“Hello.”
“Yes, that’s me.”
Her expression shifted. “Oh, hello.” She glanced at Tunde, who was focused on his laptop.
Her eyes widened. “Thank you.”
“Yes, absolutely. What time?”
“Great. Thank you.”
She lowered the phone slowly.
“Madam, what kind of suspense is this?” Hadiza asked. “Tell us what just happened.”
Tore grinned. “Well, guys… I got the job.”
The room erupted. Joyce ran into the dining area. “What? What?”
“She got the job,” Hadiza said, and Joyce threw herself onto Tore, knocking the chair over as both women fell to the floor laughing.
“Daddy! Sister Tore got a new job!” Moyibo shouted.
“Hallelujah!” he said, his voice full and warm. He pushed himself up from the chair with surprising energy and walked toward the dining room.
Tore ran to him with force, and he caught her, lifting her off the ground with both hands.
His smile deepened, softening every line on his face. “You have tried. Doh.”
She laughed through the sting in her eyes. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Tore arrived ten minutes early, the morning sun catching the soft brown of her blazer as she stepped through the revolving doors. Her leather tote tucked under her arm, and she swung her ponytail, which was long enough to rival a horsetail.
She walked into the reception area, where the polished floors and air conditioning made everything feel expensive.
A young woman with a clipboard stepped forward.
“Good morning. You must be Tore.”
“Yes, I am,” Tore said with a small smile.
“I’m Ada,” the woman with the clipboard continued. “HR asked me to take you through orientation.”
“This is Adesua,” Ada added, gesturing to the lady standing beside her. Adesua wore a navy dress and a bright, easy smile.
“Hi,” Adesua said.
“Hi,” Tore replied.
They followed her through the hallway. Ada pointed out departments, explained procedures, and introduced them to a few staff members. Tore and Adesua nodded along, and asked questions as they moved along.
As they approached a glass‑walled office, Ada paused.
“Oh, perfect timing. This is one of our junior partners, Mr. Bode Mark. I’m guessing he interviewed you guys.”
Bode looked up from his laptop. He stood, smoothing his tie, and stepped out to greet them.
“Hey, Tore. Congratulations,” he said warmly.
Tore’s face lit up in recognition. “Mr. Mark.”
He laughed. “Please. Some of us are trying to follow the western way. Call me Bode.”
He turned to Adesua and extended his hand. “Hello.”
“Hi,” she said, shaking it politely.
Bode smiled at Ada before walking away.
They continued down the hall, and after an hour of introductions and explanations, Ada smiled.
“Let’s take a short break. HR likes to pretend we’re machines.”
Tore exhaled, grateful. She leaned against the wall near the water dispenser, sipping from a paper cup while staff moved around them.
When they returned to HR to receive their IDs and passes, the coordinator looked up.
“Ladies, the founding partner just arrived. She’d like to see both of you before she leaves.”
Ada straightened immediately. Adesua smoothed her dress. Tore blinked, her heart giving a small, confused jump.
They followed Ada down the hall and into a large office with tall windows and shelves lined with legal texts. The woman behind the desk looked up, and Tore froze.
“Welcome, you both,” Senator Adetoun said, gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk. “Please have a seat.”
They sat. Tore’s knees brushed together, and she clasped her hands to stop them from trembling.
“Ahem,” she let out almost inaudibly. “Thank you, ma.”
Senator Adetoun smiled. “I’m leaving shortly,” she said, “but I wanted to see you and congratulate you personally. I know you’ve been briefed, but let me say this myself. This firm doesn’t lag behind. We push each other, and we aim to be the best of the best at all times.”
Tore forced a smile to her face as she nodded her head.
“Conduct yourselves properly within and outside the firm,” Senator Adetoun continued. “And know that you can count on the partners and HR to support you as you settle into the system.”
“Thank you, Senator Adetoun,” they both said.
She nodded and returned to the documents on her desk.
Ada and Adesua stood first. Tore followed, but something tugged at her chest. She hesitated, then turned back.
“Ma… can I take a minute of your time?”
Senator Adetoun lifted her head. “Yes. Go ahead.”
Tore stepped forward and lifted her chin up as she spoke. “I know it may not mean anything to you, but I’m sorry and I’m thankful.”
Senator Adetoun smiled, “you are welcome.”
Tore looked at her confused at the sudden change in expression, but she cleared her throat quietly and left the office.
The moment she stepped into the hallway, she pulled out her phone with shaky fingers and dailed Tunde. He picked up on the first ring.
“Tunde,” she whispered urgently. “What the hell. You didn’t tell me it’s your mother’s firm.”
“What?” Tunde said.
“Why doesn’t it even have her name for God’s sake?” she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby.
“Tore, what are you talking about?”
“Your mum,” she whispered. “Your mum is the founding partner of the firm that just hired me.”
“Is it Ola and Ola?”
“Yes!”
“I didn’t know. We weren’t talking so much, remember?” He exhaled. “Did you meet her?”
“Yes. It was so awkward, but she seemed… at least she didn’t slap me.”
“She won’t,” Tunde said, chuckling. “Her firm is not a joke to her. And honestly, I wouldn’t have told you.”
“What?” Tore snapped.
“I mean, I’d have told you after you got the job, so you’d go in aware. But not at the point of your application or interview.”
Tore pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I don’t even know what to say. By the way, don’t owners have their names on the wall or something?”
“She’s still in public office, so the firm name had to change. She’s hardly ever there, so you won’t even see her.”
“Hm. Thank God for that. I say that respectfully,” Tore muttered.
Tunde chuckled. “Congratulations. I’m very proud of you.”
She blushed. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words hung there. She lowered her head instead.
“Take care,” he said. “I have to get back.”
“Thank you for picking up, Tunde.”
“Come on,” he said, and the line went silent.
Tunde
Tunde stepped out of the conference room and loosened his tie, letting the cool air of the hallway settle on his skin. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, debating whether to call his mother back now or later. He sighed and tapped her name.
She picked up immediately.
“Akintunde mi,” she said, her voice warm and amused. “You finally remembered me.”
Tunde smiled. “Mummy, please. I called you yesterday.”
“You called me only once,” she said.
He laughed softly and leaned against the wall, sliding one hand into his pocket. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I dropped by at the firm, but I have to rush off.”
“Pele,” he said.
He wanted to bring up Tore, but the words felt heavy. He shifted his weight, opened his mouth, then closed it.
Before he could try again, his mother said, “My firm hired your friend today.”
Tunde straightened. “Which of them?”
“The prostitute,” she said lightly.
He frowned, but remained quiet.
“Ahnahn, Tunde, you can’t even laugh at my joke?” She paused. “Anyway I mean the one who lost her child.”
“Oh. Tore.”
“Yes, that one.” Her tone softened. “She scored very high.”
Tunde rubbed his forehead. “I’m… surprised you hired her.”
“Well,” his mother said, “I care about my firm more than I care about punishing her.”
Tunde let out a slow chuckle as his thumb tapped lightly against his thigh.
“We’re ready to leave ma,” someone in her background said.
“You have to go?” he asked.
“Hm” she let out. “Will you come home for dinner?”
He nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Yes please.”
“Good. Joyce’s father will be around as well, so come with a gift for him.” She said.
“Alright. Talk to you later.” Tunde said.
“Bye, son.”
Week one
Tore’s first week felt like stepping into a world that moved quickly but welcomed her all the same.
She arrived early every morning, learning the rhythm of the firm the way someone learns a new city. She shadowed Ada through departments, sat in on briefings, and spent long afternoons reading old case files until the words blurred.
She learned the smell of the printing room, and learned the sound of the different footsteps.
By her second week, she could walk the hallways without thinking. She still felt new, but she no longer felt lost.
Week three came with more responsibility.
She drafted summaries for Bode, prepared research notes for two senior associates, sat in on a client meeting and took minutes so neatly that HR asked for a copy.
By week four, she buried herself in work, and some of associates sought her as their analyst.
Week five and six were sort of rinse and repeat, except that each week was more tedious than the former.
During lunch break in her seventh week, Tore scrolled through the Thursday news and froze.
There were speculations of a hostile takeover at High-Loud Media, with a high level of aggression by PAK Group.
She opened google and typed “Finch LP,” and saw that they were currently restructuring, and that there were speculations of internal failings.
Tore dropped her tablet on her desk, the sound sharper than she intended. She stood, smoothed her skirt, and walked straight to Bode’s office.
The glass door was open, but she still knocked “Hi Bode, please have you got a minute?” She asked.
Bode looked up from his laptop. “Hi, Tore. Please come in.”
She stepped inside.
“I know you don’t take on clients in the media,” she said, “but would you consider one?”
His brows lifted. “Which?”
“High‑Loud.”
He leaned back slightly, studying her. “That’s not a good way to step into the media field. If the take-over is successful, the acquirers could fire us if they please.”
“Oh. You know about the takeover.” Her shoulders dipped a little.
“Of course I do.”
“So you think you’ll fail if they sign you?” Tore says suddenly.
He smirks. “Of course I won’t.”
She moves closer. “I know the owner personally,” she said. “And I know his law firm may not have the capacity to handle this properly.”
“You know Ejike Asima?” he asked.
“I do, and his company is worth trillions of dollars.” She paused. “If you’re sure you won’t lose, then why hesitate?”
Bode looked thoughtfully for a minute.
“We don’t have any conflict with another client, I checked.” Tore said.
“Fine. If you can get him onboard, I’ll at least have a meeting with him.”
She exhaled, relief loosening her shoulders. “Thank you.”
She turned and walked out immediately, sure of where she would be at exactly 9:30pm.
She shot her team lead a text as soon as she sunk back into her chair.
Tore: Hi Ruth, please can I be excused from service today, I’m working till past 10pm.
Ruth: Hey girl, capitalism has choked you lol. Please make sure to eat and rest after work, okay?
Ruth: You can catch up on YouTube later on.
Tore: Thank you, see you on Sunday.
Tore stepped out of her car in her six‑inch pumps, shutting the door with her hip as she swung her ponytail back over her shoulder. She threw her legs through her front slit, strutting confidently toward the entrance.
A familiar acquaintance spotted her near the door.
“Tore darling,” the woman said.
Tore smiled, leaned in, and exchanged a double air‑kiss before continuing inside.
The lounge was dim and expensive, the kind of place where people whispered deals over ice and ambition. She walked in with steady steps, pretending she wasn’t scanning the room.
She saw Ejike immediately, and she knew he saw her too.
She walked to the bar instead of walking to him, placing her purse on the counter and asking for water.
“Tore.” She heard behind her.
She turned slowly.
Ejike stood behind her, surprise and pleasure mixing on his face.
“Wow.” He said as his eyes scanned her to her exposed toes. “You’ve been missed.”
She smiled politely. “It’s good to see you, Eji.”
He gestured toward a table. “Join me?”
She nodded and followed him.
They exchanged pleasantries about life, travel, and the weather, the usual dance of two people who knew each other’s past but were pretending not to.
Only when the conversation settled did she tilt her head slightly.
“So Ifeyinwa came after you after all.” She dropped the glass she hadn’t taken a sip from.
He shifted. “You heard?”
“I also heard your law firm is in shambles.”
He lowered his head. “My shareholders have lost even more faith in me.”
She moved closer to him from her chair. “If he’s targeting your company for a hostile takeover, why haven’t you replaced your lawyer?”
He exhaled. “Loyalty.”
“For your sweat and blood?” she asked quietly.
He lifted his head and looked at her for a long moment. “I’ve missed you being my listening ear.”
“Focus, Eji.” Tore said, looking sternly at him.
He straightened. “Even if I wanted to change my lawyer, I don’t know who to trust.”
“Ever heard of Bode Mark? He handled the Scoup merger.”
Ejike nodded. “Of course I know him.”
“He can help you.” Tore leaned in further.
“Last I checked, he doesn’t take clients from the media space.” Ejike responded thoughtfully.
“Well,” Tore said, leaning back, “I can help you with that, but don’t lose your company over sentiments.”
“Is he the new guy? One of your…” Ejike began.
“No.” She cut him. “I work for him.”
He raised his eyes, “really?”
She smiled. “Yes.” She picked up one of the drinks on his glass, and poured it into his glass. “Drink up, you look like you need more.”
After a moment, he asked quietly, “Is it possible to get something else from you? Other than advice for my company?”
His eyes scanned her face, searching for something she wasn’t offering.
Tore smiled gently. “Sorry. You’re going to have to choose one.”
He smiled slowly, and then raised his glass to her and drank.
The next morning, Tore’s desk phone rang.
“Hi, Tore,” the receptionist said, “Mr. Asima came by for you, he’s waiting in the conference room.”
“Alright, Fola. Thank you.” Tore put the phone down and moved to the conference room.
She saw a soft smile grow gradually on his face as she stepped in.
“Hi Ejike,” she said, and shook the hand of his PA beside him.
“You were right. I won’t lose my company over sentiments.” Ejike said as he stood.
“Good,” she said, grinning. “I’ll get Bode.”
After the briefing and negotiations, the retainer was signed. But the real work began afterward.
Bode led a long, detailed meeting, and when Ejike and his PA finally left, Bode turned to Tore.
“Tore, have you considered going to law school?”
She smiled. “Yes. I just want to get my footing here first. I don’t know if you guys would want to take me back after a year if I don’t make an impact.”
Bode smiled. “You’ll make a good lawyer. Keep bringing in business like this, and you’ll shock even yourself.”
Her face lit up. “Thank you, Bode.”
When he left the room, she let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. She grabbed her phone and dialled Tunde.
He picked up immediately.
“We signed it,” she gasped, excitement spilling into her voice.
“Come on!” he said. “I don’t care what you say, we have to celebrate. This is crazy.”
“I won’t even object,” she said, grinning. “And it’s all on you.”
“Feel free to call me zaddy,” he said.
She burst into loud laughter and covered her mouth, glancing around the empty room.
Tore pulled into the restaurant’s car park, easing her car into a space near the entrance. She turned off the engine, checked her cherry red lipstick in the mirror, and stepped out feeling the air on her exposed shoulders.
Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she walked toward the entrance, smoothing over her black satin jumpsuit. The doorman greeted her with a small nod.
“Good evening, ma.”
“Good evening,” she replied, smiling.
Inside, the restaurant glowed with soft lighting and low afro-beats instrumentals. The host led her to a corner table overlooking the water. She sat, exhaled, and let the moment settle.
A few minutes later, she saw him.
Tunde walked in wearing a dark shirt and a blazer that fit him too well.
His eyes scanned the room until they found her, and the smile that spread across his face was slow and warm.
He walked over.
“Tore,” he said softly.
She stood, and he leaned in, brushing a light kiss against her cheek.
“You look incredible,” he said, helping her back into her seat before taking his.
“Thank you,” she said. “You look good too.”
They ordered. Seafood pasta for her, suya‑ribeye for him, and they ate over stories that flowed easily.
After dinner, the waiter brought a small dessert, a molten chocolate cake with a sparkler flickering at the top.
“For the lady,” he said. “Congratulations.”
Tore covered her face, laughing. “Oh my God.”
Tunde clapped once. “Blow it out, superstar.”
She did, and when she looked up, he was watching her with that same soft, unguarded expression.
“Tunde,” she said quietly.
“Hm?”
“Thank you. For celebrating me.”
He reached across the table and brushed his fingers against hers. “Always, pretty girl. Always.”
She didn’t pull away immediately.
At some point, she picked up her phone to check the time… and mistakenly tapped on an email notification.
She gasped.
Tunde paused. “Everything okay?”
She looked down at her phone again, then lifted her head slowly, eyes wide.
“I think Bode spoke to someone,” she said. “The firm wants to sponsor me to law school.”
Tunde’s eyes widened. “Wow. Tore, that’s amazing.”
“Yea,” she said, breathless. “I mean, the fees aren’t expensive for me, but I was worried that one year was a long time to be away. I think this means they’ll keep a spot for me.”
She exhaled, shaking her head with an uncontrollable smile.
Tunde watched her, grinning. “Just seven weeks of working there? Tore global.”
She covered her face, laughing.
“Now let’s hope Ejike’s company doesn’t blow this up for me, because a lot is riding on this.” She groaned.
“I’m sure it will work out fine, there’s no need to worry. Okay?” Tunde said.
Tore nodded and smiled.
He glanced at his watch. “I should get you back home. I don’t want you waking up late tomorrow.” He stretched his hand across the table.
She looked at it for a moment, then placed her hand in his.
He stood, still holding her hand, and she rose with him, picking up her purse with her free hand.
“Let’s go,” he said softly.
Tunde
Dinner at his parents house had become a weekly ritual for Tunde, and he was already halfway through his meal when he opened his phone to type.
Tunde: Can’t get over how stunning you looked last night.
Tore: smh
He smiled at his phone.
“Tunde,” his mum said sharply.
He lifted his head. “Hm?”
She continued talking about a committee meeting. He nodded, then glanced back at his phone.
Tore: You home?
He typed quickly.
Tunde: No, I’m at my parents’ for dinner. At this rate I think I’ll forget how to cook mehn 🫠
Tore: All the best to you and your future family 🌚
He bit back a grin.
“Tunde!” his mum snapped. “What are you looking at inside your phone that you cannot answer me?”
“Sorry, Mummy. I’m just a little busy.”
She hissed. “Shior, busy smiling at whoever is sending you message, abi?” She clicked her tongue and faced him fully.
“You want me to beg you before you bring her home?” She said.
Tunde’s brows lifted as his mother chewed.
“Who is the her?” Tunde retorted.
“I don’t know why you young people think we don’t have eyes to see.” She smiled. “Akintunde, who have you been smiling at inside your phone.” She said, and stretched to pick up his phone.
He picked it up subconsciously with speed, and she struggled to get it from his hand.
“Mummy, stop now,” he said, laughing as they both struggled for his phone.
“Ah, Tunde.” She drawled. “It’s 33 we’re celebrating next month oh, abi? 33 years ni now.”
“You want to tell me there is nobody in your church that you’re always going to?” She continued.
“Even if there is, I will choose who I want, not who you want. Is that a deal?” Tunde looked at her sternly.
She paused. “As long as it is somebody that I approve of, that is fine.”
“Ahnahn mummy.”
She clapped her hands lightly. “Wo. Jeun, jeun, jeun. Your food is getting cold.”
He nodded and typed on his phone.
Tunde: Still there?
Tore: Yeah
Tunde: I like youuuuuuuuu
Tore: SMH, please goodbye!
Tunde chuckled.
After service, some children ran between the chairs, and the smell of puff puff drifted from the food stand. The photography booth sat under the staircase, near the side entrance, its table cluttered with camera lenses, and a variety of laptops.
Tore sat behind it, clicking through photos.
Tunde walked over, hands in his pockets, smiling before he even reached her.
He leaned slightly on the table. “Hello, pretty girl.”
She looked up, her face brightening with a soft smile. “I’m alright. I was happy to move from just taking pictures to now editing them, and omo this is the ghetto, Tunde.” She groaned.
Tunde chuckled and pulled out the chair beside her. It creaked under him as he sat.
She turned the laptop toward him. “Do you edit?”
He nodded. “This was my first department before I moved to operational support.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh wow. Oya come and show me what to do.”
She reached for his arm without thinking, a light tug that brought him closer to the laptop. He leaned in, and their shoulders touched briefly.
Tunde guided her through the colour grading, his fingers hovering near hers on the trackpad.
When they finally stepped out of the building, the courtyard felt quieter than usual. Most people had gone, and their usual crew was nowhere in sight.
Tunde looked around. “Should we have lunch?”
“Yes please. Amala or nothing.”
Tunde’s shoulder vibrated from his laughter. “I completely agree in the name of the Lord.”
Tore laughed and slipped her arm through his as they walked toward the car park. The sun caught the edge of her ponytail, and he adjusted his pace to match hers without thinking.
They pulled into the dusty car park, and Tore waited till Tunde had stepped out of his car before she stepped out of hers, smoothing her dress as she looked around.
The place sat behind a row of shops, its signboard flickering.
She raised a brow at Tunde. “Oshay bougie buka.”
He laughed. “Please. Respect this establishment.”
They walked in together. Inside, the place was bright and loud. The AC stood firm, but the heat from the giant pots still fought its way through. Women behind the counter scooped amala with quick, practiced movements.
They ordered Amala, abula, goat meat for Tore, while Tunde ordered Amala, ewedu, assorted.
They found a small table near the wall. The AC blew directly at them, yet Tore still dabbed her forehead with a white face towel.
Tunde watched her for a moment. “This AC isn’t doing a good job.” He leaned forward. “I think we should go to the car.”
She hesitated. “But the food smell will enter my car.”
“Then let’s stay in mine.” He said, getting up. Tore followed his movement, and he led her into his car.
She relaxed in the passenger seat, grateful for the stronger AC.
After a few minutes, Tunde returned with two nylon bags balanced in one hand and a wooden tray in the other.
Tore burst into laughter as Tunde slid into his car. “They gave you a tray?”
“I had to ask for one,” he said.
He placed the tray gently on her lap, then unpacked her food with the seriousness of someone handling fragile cargo. He set her water bottle beside the bowl.
She shook her head, smiling. “Aren’t you the best.”
“It’s part of the service,” he said, settling into the driver’s seat with his own food.
For a moment, they ate quietly, the car filled with the smell of stew, then Tunde spoke, his voice lower. “I miss this.”
She looked up. “Miss what?”
He gestured around the car. “This. When we used to sit in the car, eat and talk. It feels like a long time ago.”
She smiled, small and warm. “It does.”
After a beat, Tunde said suddenly. “Tore, please permit me to serve you for the rest of my life.” Tunde said suddenly.
“What?” She said, allowing the meat in her hand to drop back into the plate.
“I love you. And It would be a privilege to serve you as your husband one day,” he said. “I mean, if you’d have me.” She added quickly. “No pressure, I promise.”
She smiled with her head facing him.
“Please give me a week to speak with my parents.” He paused. “You can make a decision then, but I hope you’ll decide to be with me.” Tunde said.
Tore nodded with a smile. “Let me know how your conversation goes.”
“I thought you would be worried that it could affect your job or law school sponsorship” He said, looking sternly at her.
“I’m not afraid of that, Tunde.” Tore said, lifting her hand to hold his face in her palm. “Just speak with your parents, okay?”
He nodded, and took her other hand in his.
Ouweee🙃. How did this episode make you feel? Please let me know in the comments.
hmmm
Tunde's mother obviously wants Joyce for him and I feel like Tunde hasn't been doing well at discouraging her from those suggestions
Also I just knew Tore was going to meet someone at that office but it being Tunde's mum was what I didn't expect at all, maybe she'd come to like her when she sees how good she is at her job😅
Tunde just needs to drop the bomb to his parents once and for all and get it done with
Wow, honestly it takes a different level of courage and conviction for Tunde to insist on Tore despite her past with his father. Let's see if his conviction holds up against the obstacles coming their way.