As April rolled into May, and May into June, I found my faith beginning to wane. Even though they remained gracious hosts, I’d started growing restless in George’s house, desperately wanting my own space. I’d also started growing wary of waiting for God to perform a miracle in my marriage, because short of a miracle, nothing appeared to be happening. Lotanna was in America enjoying her new grandchild, and George had long tired of trying to change Tobenna’s mind. So everything was pretty much the same as it had been when he’d served me divorce papers back in January. The only small silver lining being that, for some reason, there had been no follow-up from them. One would have thought they had some sort of plan when they proceeded to draft the papers, but six months down the line, it appeared they hadn’t. And no news was good news, as far as I was concerned.
I considered opening up to Father Adekunle, to tell him all that had happened in the months since he’d seen us. In all fairness to him, he still called to check on me and from the questions he asked about Tobenna and I, it was obvious he still believed we lived under the same roof, despite the fact that it had been months since he’d seen me in Church. I guess my truancy before the incident, didn’t make him think too much of my absence. But every time I wanted to open my mouth to tell him, I found myself tongue-tied. I realised I didn’t want Tobenna to feel compelled to forgive me or take me back. It was something I wanted him to want himself.
Towards the end of June, I decided to move into a mini-flat that had just become vacant a few streets away from George’s place.
“Isn’t getting your own place a sign that you’ve given up on your marriage?!” Chika asked, not understanding my decision.
“I’ve been floating and squatting for over 8 months, Chika. I just need my own space…even if it’s for only a little while. I can’t keep holding my breath, waiting for when Tobenna will have a change of heart. What if he never does?!” I exclaimed.
And there it was. Verbal confirmation that my faith had indeed started to wane.
I hadn’t set my eyes on him since that beautiful day in the hospital, when he’d kissed my hand, and in his eyes I’d seen the desire to put the ugly episode behind us…before Mudi and his flowers made it even uglier. That had been in January, and I hadn’t seen him ever since. It was the driver who brought Arinze to see me at George’s house on the last weekend of every month, so there had been no opportunity for any chance encounter with him at all. There were times I was tempted to just surprise him with a visit at work, or maybe even ambush him at home, but every time such a thought crossed my mind, all it took for me to immediately kill the idea was the fear of being rejected by him all over again. The fear that he would remember the now stagnant divorce petition he had filed, and take steps to see the process to its conclusion. So I decided to let sleeping dogs lie.
But all that was soon to change.
It was early August, and I had gone to Victoria Island for a meeting. It ended early, so I’d decided to attend mid-day Mass at a nearby Church. I took my seat at the back of the Church, wanting some quality quiet time before Mass began, and as I meditated, I couldn’t help but marvel over the fact that it had been almost a year since Mudi and I had crossed the line from harmless chatting to having a love affair. Even though I’d made my peace with my mistake, sometimes I couldn’t help wishing none of it had ever happened. From what I saw in the society pages, Mudi was back with his wife. I’d seen a picture of them attending the wedding of a former Governor’s daughter, and they made such a charming and attractive pair that I just hoped he was ready to finally give Elohor his all. A part of me was envious that he’d been able to get his old life back, while I was still struggling with the loss of mine. But in the end, all I could be was happy that at least one of our families had survived our mistake.
And then breaking my reverie, just as Mass began, Tobenna walked in.
My heart almost stopped beating as I beheld my husband, the man I loved, for the first time in several months. He walked towards the front of the Church, and took a seat on one of the pews. My guess was that he’d also been in the area and decided to come for mid-day Mass as well. All through the service, I could barely take my eyes off him, and when it was over, I watched him as he walked out of the Church, noticing sadly that he had lost a lot of weight and appeared to have aged overnight, looking every one of his almost 51 years of age. Rather than be pleased that he wasn’t thriving in my absence, I was saddened and it burdened my heart all through the drive back to Ikeja, and for the rest of the day.
The next day, I knew I couldn’t just stand by like a casual bystander and not do anything, so I called Amuche, our longtime housekeeper. We’d kept in touch over the months, and she had eventually stopped tearfully pleading with me to come back home, sadly accepting that this was probably our new reality. Even though I knew neither she nor the other staff had the details, they knew that whatever that had happened between Tobenna and I was gravely serious.
“Aunty!” Amuche exclaimed, even though she is at least 15 years older than I am. “Kedụ ka ịmere? How have you been?”
I smiled, as we exchanged the usual pleasantries, but soon cut straight to the chase. “Amuche, I saw my husband and I wasn’t happy. Why is he looking so lean? Hasn’t he been eating?”
She sighed deeply. “Aunty! Ọ adịghị eri! He doesn’t eat. Anytime I cook, he only eats one or two spoons, and that’s the end. All he eats from morning to night is pizza!”
Tobenna had never been hot on Amuche’s cooking, and had always insisted on me making his meals. From the sound of things, even though I’d been away for months, he hadn’t gotten accustomed to Amuche cooking for him. I knew I had all reason to gloat and be glad that if not anything, he at least missed my meals. I knew I had every reason to just sit back, cross my legs and wait for him to get desperate enough to seek me out. But I couldn’t bear the thought of him living like a glorified bachelor, and making do with takeaway meals.
My first inclination was to offer to cook his meals and have Amuche pick them up, but I knew that would raise eyebrows, even from the Amuche herself. Yes, she had known me for years, but I’m sure even she would wonder if I was perhaps adding some good old ‘African spice’, aka love potion, to the meals. No, it was best not to put her in that situation.
Instead, I decided to teach her how to cook his meals the way he preferred. And knowing the way Tobenna liked his food, the process started way before the ingredients got to the kitchen.
“I’ll meet you in the market at 8am on Saturday…and then you’re going to come home with me, so I’ll show you how to cook his food.” I informed an elated Amuche.
True to my word, that Saturday, I made the drive to the market we frequented, where Amuche joined me shortly after. Together, we walked from stall to stall, where I took my time to select the right type of tomatoes that wouldn’t make his stew sour, the right type of meat that didn’t have too much of the fat he didn’t like, the right type of bitter leaves that wouldn’t alter the taste of the soups he liked. It was bitter sweet for me, returning to the market I hadn’t been to in months. The women whose stalls I used to frequent were so excited to see me, we got healthy discounts almost off everything we bought, much to Amuche’s delight. But it was also another reminder of another aspect of my life I hadn’t paid much attention to, but now missed sorely…being able to cook for my husband.
When we were done, we did the drive all the way back to my place in Ikeja, where I took Amuche through everything I cooked, step-by-step. It’s amazing how she’d lived with me for almost 15 years, and I’d never once seen any need to teach her how to cook for Tobenna. There was no need, was what I’d told myself. Now, there we were, trying to teach an old dog new tricks.
My plan was to wait until the next day to ask her if she’d been successful in getting him to eat, but she beat me to it, calling me that same Saturday evening, declaring how it had only taken the aroma of the food she was warming, to have Tobenna request to be served dinner, which he ate heartily and even asked for seconds.
And that became our weekly ritual. Every Saturday, Amuche and I would meet in the market, we would shop, head back to my place, we’d cook (or rather, I’d cook, as the old woman refused to learn anything…so set was she in her own ways), and she’d take the food back home. And the outcome was always the same. Tobenna had started eating his meals again.
“Amuche, you have to learn this thing!” I teased her, as we chopped fresh vegetables for the chicken stir fry Tobenna liked. He abhorred the bagged frozen vegetables Amuche preferred to use. “You can’t be coming here every week forever.”
“Aunty, I’m not learning anything! I ga-abịa n’ụlọ! You will come back home!” she declared, a confident smile on her face.
The mischevious part of me took over. “So, your Oga hasn’t brought any woman home since I left.”
“Woman?! To which house?!” she exclaimed with such distaste, it was almost like I’d asked her if Tobenna was a drug dealer. “Uncle is not like that, and you know it. He is always at home, working in his study. The house is just exactly the way you left it!”
I raised a brow. “Exactly?”
“Exactly! Your pictures are still everywhere…even that beautiful one in his office!” she said, referencing one from an elaborate photo shoot I had when I turned 40. “Your slippers…those your pink slippers you used to wear from the house to your car…are even still under the stairs. When you come back, it will be just as if you left yesterday!”
I laughed. “You sound so sure I’m coming back!”
“Aunty, biko, dee ya ebe a! Write it down.” she said, beating her chest. “Ana m ekpe ekpere! I have been praying day and night! The devil will not succeed! You will come back home oh. You will come back!”
I said a silent Amen, my heart warmed by how emotional she was about the issue. Surely, with so many people (Chika, Lotanna and Anita inclusive) praying so fervently about the whole thing, God would hear our prayers right?
Amuche and I kept up our routine for about 6 weeks, until that fateful day.
It was the 30th of September, and I was cooking more than I ordinarily would, to make sure they had enough food for the long Independence weekend. I didn’t finish cooking till well past 4pm, and as we made our way out of my compound to put her in a taxi, we heard someone shout her name.
We both turned and stared, aghast, as Tobenna got out of his car, his face expressionless.
“Heyyy! Anwugom taata!” Amuche exclaimed, the look on her face pure, unadulterated fear.
“So is this where you spend the whole day on Saturdays?” Tobenna stated, his voice still even. “You’ve been coming here the whole time.”
“It was all my idea.” I said, standing up for the quivering older woman. “I’m the one who asked her to come.”
Tobenna cast a glance at the basket in her hands. “Get in the car, Amuche.”
She scrambled into the front seat of the vehicle with no complaint, and he turned his attention to me. Even though I was quivering like a leaf inside, I held my own and held his gaze, waiting for whatever it was he had to say. But as scared as I was, I was happy to see that he had regained the weight he’d lost and was looking much better than the last time I’d seen him.
And then he surprised me by laughing. “I knew Amuche couldn’t have started cooking good food overnight!”
I joined him in his laughter. “You knew?”
“From the very minute I smelt that ofe onugbu, I knew she was clearly up to something. Nobody makes it the way you do.” he answered. “I was just waiting for when I would catch her red handed.”
“She’s been here for a long time. Have you been waiting outside the whole time?” I asked.
“Justice followed her when she left the house, all the way to the market, and then tailed you two back here. I got here about an hour ago.” he answered.
“An hour is still a long time to wait.”
He looked past me at the apartment building. “Is this where you stay? I thought you were with George.”
“I was. I moved out a few months ago. I needed my own space.” I answered, “I’m surprised Arinze hasn’t mentioned it, as this is where he’s come to see me the last few times.”
Tobenna nodded, clearly taking in the fact that I now lived alone.
Suddenly feeling emboldened, I asked, “Do you want to see it?”
He hesitated for a minute, clearly pondering the wisdom of coming into his soon-to-be-ex-wife’s apartment, before he shrugged. “Sure.”
He walked behind me into the compound, and I led him to my 2nd floor mini-flat.
“It’s not a lot, but it’s home.” I said, smiling and trying to act the proud home owner.
“It’s nice. Yellow. You’ve always liked yellow.” he said, looking around as he stood in the middle of my living room, where he could pretty much see my whole apartment. “It’s small though. It’s probably half the size of our bedroom.”
“I know right!” I laughed. “But it’s not that small. It’s the furniture here that makes it look cramped. It’s almost 180 square meters.”
He nodded again, his eyes still scanning the place, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his mind.
“Can I get you something to drink? Something to eat?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious of my small apartment.
“You made egusi soup today.” he remarked, obviously smelling it above the vanilla candles I was burning to get rid of the smell.
I smiled and nodded. “Egusi, oha, and ogbono. We also made fish stew, chicken curry and coconut rice. Amuche has everything in her basket.”
Tobenna smiled. “You use the pronoun ‘we’ very generously. I’ll bet Amuche didn’t even light a match!”
I laughed and he joined me, and in that little minute, it felt like old times.
“Well, since you’re offering…if you still have some of that egusi, I wouldn’t mind having a bit. Amuche still has a long way to go before her pounded yam is half way decent!” he said, almost tentatively.
“Don’t tell me she still makes it rock solid!” I exclaimed.
“And stone cold!” he laughed.
And just like that, over the next hour, I proceeded to properly cook for and serve my husband, for the first time in over 10 months. He’d sent his car to drop Amuche at home, so he was able to get comfortable as I cooked. And as he ate on my small dining table, we talked. I told him all about work and finally getting my long overdue promotion, and he told me about the new projects he was working on. We gossiped about Kele’s very eccentric and very strange Tunisian girlfriend, and beamed with mutual pride over Arinze’s near-perfect school grades. I told him about my father’s cancer finally going into remission, and he told me about the death of a beloved member of our Parish who had succumbed to the same disease. We didn’t even notice the time fly right by.
“You look well, Gina.” he remarked, as we sat on my small sofa. “You look peaceful…happy.”
I wanted to tell him that without him, I was neither peaceful nor happy, but instead I simply smiled. “So do you.”
His eyes held mine, and the electricity in the room could have powered a small country. I saw in his eyes a longing and yearning that matched mine…and it wasn’t just a physical ache. My heart, my soul longed for him…and I saw that he longed for me also…
And then he kissed me…
It literally felt like the heavens had opened, sprinkling fairy dust over us. The brush of his lips began light, and it sent shivers across my entire body, taking my breath away. Everything else faded away. Every single thing. I was intoxicated by everything about him…the feel of his strong arms as he held me…the familiar blend of his cologne with his own natural smell…
We broke apart from our kiss and his hands cradled my face, our eyes communicating all the words that our hearts wanted to say, but our lips couldn’t. And when he kissed me again, I melted completely in his arms. There was nothing light about the second kiss. We kissed each other with the urgency of two people desperately in love…and ravenously hungry for each other. It made me realize that whatever I’d thought I had with Mudi had been nothing but a mirage. A cheap imitation. A mere knock-off. How could I ever have confused it with this?
This was love. The very true meaning of pure, beautiful, passionate and unconditional love.
Leading him to my bedroom, we closed a gap…an almost 3-year old gap. Every touch from him was magic. That he knew every part of my body was magic. That he knew what to do to throw me into the throes of passion was magic. And magic we did make…over and over again…as day turned into night. And when we lay spent, as I fell asleep in his arms, I knew in that very instant what it meant to be truly happy.
When I awoke, dawn had started to break. I looked up to see him already awake and looking at me intently, his brows furrowed as if he was deep in thought.
“Good morning, handsome!” I said, kissing him. “Penny for your thoughts.”
His frown deepened, and he suddenly sat up and reached for his wristwatch on my bedside table. “Wow, is that the time?” he mumbled.
“It’s a Sunday, Tobenna!” I laughed. “What, you’ll be late for Church?”
He didn’t answer and instead began to locate his clothes from different parts of the room. “I have to go now.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, sitting up.
“Everything’s fine, Gina. I just have to leave. I’m sure Arinze will be worried.” he muttered, as he put on his clothes.
“Thank God you didn’t ask Justice to wait. I don’t think he would have been amused about having to sleep in the car overnight!” I joked.
Tobenna didn’t answer, and instead reached for his phone to summon an Uber.
“I can drop you at home…” I offered.
“Gina, one step at a time…please.” he pleaded. “I need time to myself…to figure out…figure out what just happened.”
I nodded, understanding completely why he would need more time. “Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
He nodded and smiled stiffly, just as his phone started to ring. “That’s the Uber.”
I got out of bed and slipped into a night robe, so I could let him out. “Last night was beautiful…” I said, standing by the door.
“Take care, Gina.” was his own answer, as he scurried out of my apartment, like he was a lamb trying to escape a mighty wolf.
Sitting alone in my apartment, I was all smiles, memories of the magical night making my body tingle. Yes, his reaction the morning after wouldn’t have been my preference, but I figured it would only be fair to give him time to get used to the idea of us again. Us. Oh how I loved that word!
I pretty much walked on air for the rest of the day…and even the next, which was a public holiday. There was no call from Tobenna, but I knew the call would most surely come. It had to. Because if there was one thing I knew for a fact, it was that he had felt just as much magic as I had. As hungry as I’d been for him, he had been even hungrier for me. So no, I wasn’t the only one feeling the magic.
This was what buoyed me, as Monday turned into Tuesday, and then into Wednesday, but still with no call from Tobenna. Several times, I was tempted to call him, but decided against it each time. He asked for time to figure things out. Well, I was going to give him that time. Or at least, I would try to.
But by Friday, I knew I just had to take matters into my own hands.
Knowing Amuche would most surely not be showing up at the market for our Saturday appointment, I decided to go there on my own. I got to the market even earlier than our usual time, and bought everything I would need to make all the meals Tobenna loved the most. I was going to go to his house…our house…and I would cook for him in our kitchen…and we were going to make more magic…in our bedroom…and on our bed.
Driving back to our Ikoyi home, I felt the excitement and exhilaration of home coming, and it was further amplified by the reaction of my domestic staff the minute I drove into the compound. From the way they were whooping and hollering, it was clear that they had missed me dearly. Tobenna’s car wasn’t in the compound, so I already knew I wouldn’t meet him inside the house. It was just as well, so that by the time he returned, he would meet a wonderful surprise!
“Aunty!” Amuche exclaimed, looking just as excited as the other staff. “You’re here! And you went to the market?”
I smiled, unloading all the foodstuff in the kitchen. Gosh, it felt so good to be home. But looking around the kitchen, something felt…different.
“I knew you would be too afraid to come, and I don’t want my husband to starve!” I teased. “Where is Arinze? Basketball practice?”
She nodded, casting a nervous glance at the door. I turned in the direction of her gaze and saw a tall man, dressed in white.
“Good morning, Madam. My name is Alfred, the new cook.” he greeted, with a small bow. “Would you want me to do anything in particular with the foodstuff?”
I shot Amuche a curious look, and she frowned at the stranger. “This is Oga’s wife!” she declared. “And this is her kitchen!”
Understanding soon started to dawn on me. “Don’t worry, Alfred. I can manage from here. You can go now.” I said, with a polite smile.
He fidgeted nervously. “I’m sorry, Madam, but my Master instructed me to make him lunch. I need to start now, so that it will be ready by the time he returns.”
By this time, my own patience was waning. “You don’t have to worry about that! I’m his wife, and I will make his lunch. That’s why I’m here.”
When he still made no attempt to budge, Amuche literally exploded on him. “You no dey hear word?”
Reluctantly, he left, and I turned around to look at Amuche again. “My husband hired a cook?!”
She nodded sadly. “I just saw this man show up on Tuesday…and he has been cooking all Oga’s meals ever since. He cooks everything…soup, rice, and all the oyibo food you used to make.”
I frowned as I pondered what I’d just heard. What was Tobenna up to? Why hire a cook when we were on the verge of reconciliation? It just didn’t make sense. Tuning out the noise, I proceeded to make the meals I had gone there to make.
Midway through, I heard Tobenna’s car drive into the compound. By this time, I was too rankled to rush out to greet him. Instead, I made the decision to wait for when his meal was ready, and confront him about him when I went to serve him. So, as soon as the meal of pounded yam and vegetable soup was ready, I proceeded to take it to the dining table myself. He wasn’t there, so off I went to his study.
“Hello Tobenna.” I said, not half as excited as I’d been when I arrived.
He barely glanced up at me. “Gina.”
“You don’t seem surprised to see me.” I remarked.
“Your car is parked outside, so I guess that’s something of a giveaway, don’t you think?” he retorted.
“So you knew I was here all this while, and you didn’t come to say hello?” I exclaimed in disbelief.
He finally looked up at me. “What do you want, Gina?”
“I came to cook for you. I made you your favourite meal…” I stuttered, not even knowing what to say.
“You shouldn’t have. I have a cook now.” was his own tart response.
“So I can see!” I said, my frustration rising. “Tobenna, what is going on? First, you don’t call me all week. Then I come home to meet a strange man in my kitchen. Now, you’re acting all cold. What’s going on? This isn’t what I expected after we…after last weekend.”
“That strange man is my cook, and last I checked, it’s no longer your kitchen.” Tobenna retorted. “Last weekend was a mistake, Gina. We both got carried away, that’s all. I think we should both just…let’s just forget it ever happened, okay?”
I stood there in stunned silence, before I noticed a large carton tucked in a corner. It was open, and from where I was standing, I could make out my picture, a large one that had once been hanging in the hallway, inside it. Walking closer, I opened the box and saw that all my other pictures from different parts of the house were there, along with a few of my other belongings. I looked up at his wall, where my 40th birthday picture used to hang, and in its place hung a picture of an oil rig.
“The other box is there. You know…the box that has the CDs and stuff that your…‘friend’ gave you.” Tobenna muttered.
True to his words, beside it was the package Mudi had sent me in the early days of our liaison, containing the old CDs, pink-dust paper weight…and letters.
And something in me snapped.
“How dare you, Tobenna? How dare you treat me like this? How dare you pack my things in a carton like a common criminal?!” I said, glaring at him, my fists clenched in my rising anger. “Is it because I have let you play the martyr for close to a year? Is it because I agreed to act the bad guy?”
“What are you saying, Gina?! I’m the one playing the martyr? You forget that I’m the one whose wife cheated…”
“Tobenna, God punish you! After the way you have treated me for more than half of this marriage?! God punish you for sitting there, acting like you are not even more responsible for the breakup of this marriage than I am!” I screamed.
He stared at me in shock, and this only served to aggravate me further.
“Do you know how long I was unhappy in this marriage?! Do you know how long I was dying of loneliness and neglect?! You talk about me bringing in a third party into our marriage, when with the way you have idolized and worshiped your business…I’m the one who’s always been the third party! Your business is your real wife!”
“Gina, keep your voice down! Everyone can hear you!”
But I was too far gone to even care anymore.
“Let them hear!” I continued yelling. “The worst kind of loneliness is to have a companion, but to still feel lonely. I would be lying on the same bed with you, and still feel lonely. Heck, I would be having sex with you, and still know your mind was far away. That’s even before the sex dried up completely! And yet you blame me for giving audience to a man who was paying attention to me?!”
He made to rise to leave, but I banged the door shut. Nobody was leaving that study until I got everything off my chest.
“You’re there talking about the CDs my ‘friend’ gave me…well at least, he gave me CDs! At least he even knows the kind of things I like. What have you ever given me that makes sense, Tobenna? Is it the designer bags that you send your assistant to buy on your behalf? Or the useless online gift card you had the guts to give me on my birthday?! On my birthday, Tobenna! If it wasn’t for the Mark Twain book set you gave me eventually, it would have meant that in almost 20 years of marriage, you never for once bothered to take the time to get your wife a thoughtful gift…one that says ‘you are special and important to me!’”
“Gina, that’s enough!” Tobenna said firmly.
“Oh you can bet it’s enough! I have had enough of rolling over and getting punished for what we both share responsibility for. If I were the one who withheld sex from you for over two years…heck, almost three…we both know who society would blame!” I shook my head and laughed. “But no, here I am, killing myself just to please you. On my knees day and night, praying to get you back. When you’re the one who should be the one on his knees! And you even went ahead to serve me divorce papers?! Tobenna, how dare you!”
We stood there for minutes, neither of us saying anything. His expression was unreadable, but mine was unmistakable. I was furious. I was furious at him for still treating me like a leper…but I was even more furious with myself for allowing it.
“I’m going to have my own lawyer file for me a fresh divorce petition, and you can bet your every dollar that I’m not only going to push for custody of my son, but spousal support as well!” I retorted. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish I’d signed your foolish petition! You are going to move me out of that matchbox I live in, and pay for a big house in a choice area, where I will live my sons…all three of them! You think you can play dirty? I will show you I can play worse!” and then in one swift motion, I pulled off my platinum and diamond engagement and wedding rings and threw them across the room at him. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”
I stormed to where the cartons were and hurled the smaller one in my arms, before opening the door and storming out. My voice must have been truly very loud, as most of our staff stood huddled in a corner. I handed the carton in my hands to one of them, and yelled instructions at another to bring the bigger one I’d left in the study. As I made to leave the house, I caught sight of my pink slippers under the stairs and grabbed them as well. I was done grasping at straws and holding on to a marriage that was clearly over.
Getting into my car, after a cursory wave at my depressed and desolate staff, I drove out of the compound, and sped all the way back home. My rage was enough to buoy me all through, making the ride to Ikeja seem like a brief spin around the block. I was so angry that I couldn’t even think straight. My greatest consolation was that Arinze hadn’t been home to witness any of it.
But the minute I walked into my apartment, the adrenalin dissipated, and I was left with the cold reality of what had happened…my bare fingers a stark reminder of what was now the evident truth.
My marriage was finally over.
Catch up on Gina’s story here:
- Where is the Love? 1: Where is the Love…
- Where is the Love? 2: Love Letters
- Where is the Love 3: A Family Issue
- Where is the Love? 4: Tobenna
- Where is the Love? 5: Loneliness
- Where is the Love? 6: Bad Romance
- Where is the Love? 7: Pandora’s Box
- Where is the Love? 8: Butterflies
- Where is the Love? 9: Roller Coaster
- Where is the Love? 10: Cool
- Where is the Love? 11: The Girl from Ipanema
- Where is the Love? 12: Lost Without you
- Where is the Love? 13: Roses & Diamonds
- Where is the Love? 14: For Eternity
- Where is the Love? 15: Passion…and Passion
- Where is the Love? 16: Naked
- Where is the Love? 17: Everything for you
- Where is the Love? 18: The Husband…The Lover
- Where is the Love? 19: Love Story Distractions
- Where is the Love? 20: Grand Gesture
- Where is the Love? 21: Love, Marriage…Divorce
Catch up on our other series here: