Chapter 80: New beginnings, old goodbyes
Morning sunlight poured through the curtains, soft and golden.
Abuja was already stirring awake. The scent of fried akara drifted in from the street as horns blared distantly, and neighbors called greetings over fences.
This was one of the joys of Christmas period. Every neighbor was always at home, and you could feel the joy, relaxation, and camaraderie in the air.
Inside the Moses mansion, breakfast was chaos.
Plates clattered, Sophia complained about her phone battery, Ian slumped with bed hair, and Mrs. Moses barked orders at no one in particular.
The scene was almost comical, it was beauty in chaos. Sam and Kayla exchanged a look across the table; she squeezed his hand under the cloth.
"Now," he whispered.
Sam cleared his throat. "Uh... everyone," he called. "Me and Kayla, we have something to share."
Heads turned as Mrs. Moses stopped her complaints for just a heartbeat, curiosity on her face, but there was also a subtle warning on her face that this dare not be a prank.
Staring at her, Sam smiled.
Kayla smiled nervously as Sam grinned, unable to hold it in. "Hehe, well, we’re going to have a baby!" He said loudly.
"..."
For a second, there was just silence and confusion. Then...
Mrs. Moses dropped her spoon with a loud clatter. "Jesus Christ of Nazareth!" She shot to her feet, hands on her head, voice rising in theatrical waves. "My pikin! My Samuel! Already?!"
"Mummy...!" Sam glared at her but she ignored it as if he was air.
"Eh-eh! Don’t mummy me!" she wailed, pacing. "So soon! Football never finish, Ballon d’Or never dry, and now this child has rushed to join the world? Ahhh, what kind of fast-forward blessing is this?"
She was just being dramatic though; Sam knew that she was giddy with joy.
She always wanted a grandchild, and she hasn’t been shy in being vocal about it. She was just overwhelmed, hence her dramatic reaction.
This didn’t stop him from pouting at her reaction though.
"So you mean," she paused, letting it sink in. "You’re gonna be a daddy!" Sophia shrieked in delight, jumping up and down. "And I’m going to be aunty!"
She quickly stared at Kayla pleadingly. "Kayla, please give me a niece, not a nephew. I want someone I can teach TikTok dances!"
"Damn! We’re going to be TikTok superstars!"
"God forbid". Sam rejected immediately.
Ian slapped the table, grinning wide. "Finally! Now the Ballon d’Or winner has competition, mini Moses incoming!"
Mr. Moses only chuckled, shaking his head. "Congratulations, son. A child is never too early when love is strong."
Sam stood up, hugging his mother despite her dramatics. "Mommy, calm down. It’s good news."
She sniffed, wiping imaginary tears. "I am happy, oh! Don’t misunderstand me. I am just... overwhelmed. You think say e easy, to be grandmother already? Ah, my mates are still chasing their children to marry!"
"I think I’m blessed". She laughed, overjoyed.
The table erupted in laughter. Kayla hugged her tightly, whispering, "Thank you, mommy."
Mrs. Moses sighed, patting her cheek. "You’re glowing already, my daughter. God bless you. This child will be strong."
And that ended the reveal, what a moment it was.
...
The days that followed were a blur of warmth and family time.
On December 27th, Sam took Kayla to Wuse Market there in Abuja, disguised in sunglasses and a cap, where they shopped for baby fabrics.
Like he tagged it. "It’s better we start early".
Kayla was mortified. "This early?"
She laughed at his wide-eyed horror in the baby section, holding up tiny shoes. "You’ll cry when you see them wear this." Sam muttered, "I already feel emotional just looking."
...
On December 29th, neighbors poured in, bringing gifts after whispers of Kayla’s pregnancy spread. Not just any neighbor though, only those that were closest to the family.
Aunties gave advice unsolicited. "Don’t eat too much pepper soup oh," one said, sounding very satisfied at her sage advice.
"Sleep on your left side," another said.
"Big brother, big brother, name the child after me!" Kayla smiled politely, but Sam resolutely shook his head. "No chance".
"Get out!" She punched him.
...
On December 31st, fireworks lit Abuja’s skies on New Year’s Eve.
The family gathered in the compound, hands clasped in prayer as the pastor on TV declared blessings for 2027.
At midnight, the air exploded with noise and color. Sam kissed Kayla under the bursting sky, Sophia screamed "Happy New Year!" while Ian danced like he’d won a lottery.
Sam whispered to Kayla. "This will be the year. For football, for us."
...
January 2nd...
Morning came too soon.
Sam zipped his suitcase in the bedroom, folding his Barça tracksuits and boots with methodical care. Kayla sat on the bed, watching with one hand resting gently on her belly.
"You don’t have to go yet," she whispered, though she knew he did.
He sighed, sitting beside her. "La Liga doesn’t pause for anyone, neither does the Champions League." He kissed her temple. "But every second I’m away, I’ll be thinking of you. Of you both."
Downstairs, Mrs. Moses was already issuing instructions like a general.
"Kayla, you will not lift anything heavy, you will drink your vitamins every morning, and you will sleep early. No stress! If Samuel calls you at night, switch off the phone. Baby first! Ok?"
"Mommy...," Sam tried, but she silenced him with a glare.
"You, my son, go and play your ball. Leave my daughter with me. Spain can wait, pregnancy cannot."
Sam glanced at Kayla, who laughed softly and nodded. "She’s right."
He didn’t protest as he understood their reasoning; he quickly surrendered. "Okay. You stay here until its safe, I’ll fly back whenever I can."
They embraced in the doorway.
Kayla whispered, "Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Just go and keep making us proud."
Sam kissed her deeply, then pressed his forehead to hers. "I’ll win everything. For you, for us, and for them." He rested a hand on her belly, smiling.
As the car pulled out of the mansion gates, Sam looked back at the balcony, where Kayla stood beside his mother, waving.
His chest ached, but his resolve hardened.
Spain was waiting.
So was legacy.