“Dude, congrats once again.” Sly said.
It was my second day back from honeymoon and the guys and I had met up for drinks and asun. As was to be expected, my marriage was the major topic for discussion.
“Thanks bro,” I said. “How madam?”
“She dey o,” he grimaced. “Pregnancy is not beans.”
“Like say na you carry the belle,” Wale said. “Shey you will stop after this one, abi you people want football team?”
“I hope this one is a boy,” Sly said. “I will gladly hang up my boots.”
“What if it’s not a boy?” I asked. “Two daughters sound like an investment. Raise them right, then kick back and enjoy your grey years.”
Phantom walked in just then. He looked leaner, fitter.
I took in the way the tee-shirt clung to his chest as if sculpted to his body, his washboard flat and ripped stomach and I felt the slightest twinge of envy. It didn’t help that he was always posting yoga pictures and workout videos on Instagram.
Sigh. I should work out more.
“Fam!” We shook hands, bumped chests and patted each other on the back. “You don’t look badly. How’s married life?”
I gave him a blank stare.
What does that even mean?
If I got some money for every time someone asked me that question since I got married, I could retire and live a comfortable life.
He put his hands up in mock surrender and as an apology.
“You know what I mean, I know it’s only been two weeks but has anything changed in your relationship?”
“I’m probably the wrong person to ask,” I said. “You know Cynthia and I were practically living together. We went to collect her things from her parents’ house over the weekend and there were just three suitcases: two of clothes and one of her shoes.”
“The change doesn’t come suddenly,” Sly said, “it creeps up on you ever so slowly. Though I think you guys have a good foundation. Sometimes I wished we’d done the whole live together before marriage thing because there are things I see in my house some days and I’m wondering where all those were when we got married – and this is three years later o.”
“Changes like what?” Wale asked.
“An example is, before we got married we didn’t keep anything from each other and, though our phones were passworded, we knew each other’s passwords. We wouldn’t go looking at each other’s phones though. It’s still the same thing with the passwords now, but I swear sometimes I think she’s looking over my shoulder when I’m chatting. If she wanted to know what was going on, why not ask?”
“Have you given her reason to behave that way?” I asked.
This threw us all into laughter.
“What man hasn’t?” Phantom asked. “Just keep your shit squeaky clean.”
“It’s hard to do though,” Sly said, “with the kind of friends I have; sending random nudes and stuff. I’ve disabled auto download of photos on Whatsapp because I can’t open any photo file you guys send with my chest.”
“I’m even surprised you could make it out tonight,” Scar said, getting involved for the first time. “How many times have we fixed to meet up in the past year? How many of those have you showed up for? I’m sitting here wondering if this is the end of Camelot with Sly and Bobo married, and Wale next most likely to get married.”
Everyone went silent for a moment.
“Way to go dude, you just killed the mood.” Wale said.
“I could say let’s make a pact to always be friends and not let married life separate us,” I said, “but I already made a pact the other Saturday with Cynthia. That said, our friendship shouldn’t suffer too much. Married life is not a prison sentence, definitely not solitary confinement and being single is not the plague. We are lucky that our wives are friends, so maybe we can have dinners and barbeques and holidays together.”
“Except for those times when it is safer not to have them around.” Sly added.
“For those times,” I looked at Scar, “we have Bachelor’s eve hall passes.”