This post is for all the Oliver and Olivia Twists that keep telling me the episodes are short. This should quench your thirst.
Oh my God! Jide is in love?!!!
I jolt up from my bed as if shot with a thousand needles. What type of useless dream did I just have? What madness is this?
No, I cannot accept this if indeed it’s more than a dream. After all I sacrificed to ensure that his heart remained cold? Mtsheeew! I am demanding my money back or God help me, I will find that useless gypsy bitch wherever she is in this world and force poison down her throat.
I turn on my WiFi and my phone and wait for both to boot up. Immediately they do, I make a video call to Kiya AKA my Egyptian spellcaster, AKA witch doctor. Many ladies in Nigeria go to useless babalawos that eat their money and do nothing for them. But Kiya, she’s the real deal. She has been my savior for years, helping me from across the world to ensure Jideofor’s love life remains empty and useless. It was she who gave me the spell in which I used in binding him to meaningless sexual encounters. It was my own little way of saying, ‘oga, shebi it was another vagina that separated me from you, then vaginas you shall have until you run back to me’.
The spell has worked successfully for five years, even with the Bridemaker twist that I never saw coming. It was supposed to keep working until his life wrecked totally and I stepped in to restore that sweet and special thing we once had. He was NOT supposed to fall in love!
“Hello, dear.” Kiya is smiling. I am not. She is void of her gothic makeup today. Her scanty jet-black hair cascades across her forehead making her reminiscent of a rat that once fell into my toilet tank.
“He’s in love,” I tell her straight. No time for long talk. “You promised he will never fall for anyone again! But now he has!”
“How do you know he’s in love?”
“Remember the girl I told you he’s been parading around town? Remember I told you I had bad vibes about her? Well, I had a dream that he got married to her!”
“Yes, a dream. And you know my dreams never lie to me.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
I describe in detail how I saw Jide slipping this dazzling yellow diamond ring on the girl’s finger. Then he went ahead and kissed her the way he used to kiss me. That was when I woke up.
“This sounds serious.”
“Like hell! I want you to break them apart! Make him hate her! Or just kill her! I don’t want them together! I want him back to me right now! I’m tired of waiting!”
“Calm down, dear. You will have your man back. However, you might need a very strong spell that will take time to prepare after we undo this one which seems to have weakened.”
“I don’t have time, Kiya. When Jide falls in love, he falls fast and holds nothing back. We could be here talking and he’s out there buying her a ring. That was what he did with me and that other stupid cunt.”
“Baby girl,I repeat, a stronger spell takes time like the one you’re already on.”
“It’s taking a lifetime!”
“Well, a less stronger one but almost as potent, will either need his semen or blood.”
“I don’t need any of that. Jideofor loves me but he’s acting like a typical male. We just need to speed things up.”
“Then it requires an ancient Creole spell in addition with some real voodoo.”
“Now you’re talking.”
“But I warn you, dear. Combination spells are dangerous and so is this particular voodoo. It requires you making twin love puppets that you have to mail to him. If he destroys those puppets, you’re toast.”
“I don’t care. Just tell me what to do.”
“I’m warning you again. It could backfire.”
“And again, I don’t care! I want my man back. I have waited enough abeg.”
“Okay. Give me a minute.”
Kiya disappears and I ponder over her words fleetingly. Dangerous kor, risky ni. What’s worse than surviving one more night without my king?
Kiya returns. “I had the spells in my other phone. I just emailed them to you. If you don’t have the elements, let me know and I’ll ship them from my sister’s store in Cairo and you’ll have to wait to the next full moon. But if you have them right now, you must do them this night since it’s the first night the moon waxes full in your end.”
“Whatever. How much?”
“Hundred and fifty.”
“You dis woman sef! Your own don pass babalawo.”
“Sorry, I don’t speak ebonics, girl. Hundred for both spells. Fifty for consultation.”
“I’ll pay half tomorrow morning and half when Jide’s in my bed.”
Kiya doesn’t complain. I’m her faithful customer.
“You’ll find the first spell particularly pleasurable.” Her smile is naughty. I don’t have time for that nonsense. I dial off.
Her email is waiting. I read the first spell with a smile. I can’t wait to try it. But I quickly put together the second one which has me creating two small voodoo dolls, one from my hair and the other from Jide’s old t-shirt. I bind them together, place them in a tiny box and tie the box with seven red strings, making seven knots. I subsequently put it under my bed where it will remain for seven hours and seven minutes and seven seconds before I take it out.
When I’m through with that, I begin the first spell that is to make him desire only me, which will have him hating his new girlfriend. It is a very powerful act of magic that involves a red candle, some of Jide’s hair which I have kept for years, and then an ancient Creole chant. I follow the instructions and in the end, use the candle, now melted and remoulded into Jide’s penis shape, to pleasure myself.
I stay awake for the rest of the night after that, counting the hours before I take the box from beneath the bed. I pray to the universe that my plan works with no foibles. I intend to use Mary to get the box into the house. She and I have not spoken in years but today, I will mend bridges. In fact, I think I will start mending old bridges to pave way for my re-entry into Jide’s life.
I smile at this ingenious plan of mine. Jide, here I come, baby!
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
She’s gone. And I miss her already. She’s taken her different tones of laughter, her unassertive eyes, her incredibly soft lips, her enthralling body and her indulgent heart. We had talked and made love all day; and now her scent lingers. I walk into my room. It feels so cold and empty but the bed is yet to exorcise the last memory I have of her in it. She had been sitting at the edge in her underwear, feet to the floor, head buried in her hands, crying. I had come in from the bathroom to find her that way. We had just two hours before her flight to London. I stooped down and took her hands in mine.
“Stop crying, sugar lips.”
I was back to the first pet name I gave her; it took on a whole new meaning after we made love. But she prefers when I just call her sugams.
“We’ll figure out a way, baby,” I tried to assure her.
“The only way is if I quit my job.”
She drew a long sniffle. “I don’t know…”
“You still don’t trust me?”
She didn’t reply.
“You think you’ll give up your life and I’ll turn around and hurt you.”
“I’m sorry.” She let her head down. “I just can’t trust any man in my life again.”
“Honey, don’t say that. For this relationship to work, we need trust. I don’t fall in love so easily but when I do, I take the plunge totally, so I’m wholeheartedly committed to us.”
She wasn’t convinced and I didn’t expect her to be. It would take time. Still, I put up a good case.
“You saw what Emeka did with Tola. He kept his word. That should give you a glimpse of the type of man I was raised to be.”
“I’m just so scared that something will tear us apart, Jide. I feel it.”
“Stop being scared nau. And put that Bridemaker nonsense out of your head.”
She nodded but her tears fell on our entwined fingers. “Promise you won’t leave me.”
“I promise, sugar lips.”
She sought the assurance of my kisses, which ultimately led us into making out. Having kissed her countless times already, I had mastered those soft, silky lips and I took them leisurely, feeding from the sweetness of her mouth. As my hand grazed over her body, I realized I would miss the way her eyes glistened whenever I touched her. But it was my tongue I employed in pleasuring in her. There wasn’t an inch of her that I didn’t want to taste. I wanted to retain her essence long after she was gone and so I sought the secrets of her tight depths with my mouth. She murmured brokenly, but I had only just begun. When I took her, guiding myself in possessively, inch by inch until I filled her completely, she was already pulsating. Her breath on my neck was hot and moist, her fingernails adding scratches over the ones she had inflicted from last night. She arched to meet me, thrust for thrust. The dance was measured, powerfully penetrating and drugging. Neither of us wanted it to end but time refused to have a threesome with us. I told her to let go and it was as if I opened a dam. I felt the first surge and I lost my senses. She has this skilled way of making it rain on me, and rain it did until I joined her in a shuddering, pulsing climax. I palm her breast in my hand. I don’t want to let go. I want to hold on for as long as I can.
At the airport, just before she boarded her flight, I gifted her a gold necklace that held a yellow Beryl stone.
“I’m so going to miss you, Jide,” she told me, twisting the stone between her fingers.
“Don’t hug me. Just walk away and let me watch you walk away.”
I laughed. “Why?”
“Because I’m so bad with goodbyes, baby,” she confessed, sniffing. “Go.”
I didn’t listen to her. I kissed her until she couldn’t breathe and people started staring and then I walked away, knowing her eyes were on me.
A profound sense of loss greeted me when I returned home, and it hasn’t eased up till now. I leave my bedroom to the sitting room to watch TV. Bobby has invited me for beers with the guys but I’m not interested. I’d rather stay in.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
I am in my friend’s apartment in Central London. She’s a divorcee who does nothing but spends her ex- husband’s money and screws him while doing it. Take for instance the apartment we’re in; it’s a recent gift from him. It’s just a two-bedroom but was gotten at a cost of four million pounds and given to her to enjoy whenever she pops into the UK. I have long given up preaching to her to let the man and his new wife be. But she’ll always remind me that in the eyes of God, she is still his wife.
She walks in from the kitchen and passes me a cup of tea.
I want to ask her why I need to take something relaxing, then I remember that just a few minutes ago I was pinning over the fact that my job has been restored.
“I think you should just quit, Honey. Your guy sounds capable of taking care of you financially.”
“Is everything about money to you, Saratu?”
“Yeah. I mean, why would a woman quit a high-paying job just for love? It’s stupid.”
“Well, I don’t want to quit for either love or money but for myself. I have goals, you know.”
Saratu rolls her eyes. I doubt her goals go beyond having the next Liz Claiborne purse or Chris Aire earrings. That’s why she is a lot closer to Dele’s wife than she is with me.
“Guess who I bumped into at Selfridges the other day,” she says.
“One of your Igbo exes.”
“Kaycee? Obi? Max?”
I make a grimace. “Who then?”
“The one who popped your cherry.”
I feel an eerie chill spread over me. “Ekene?”
“Yes, Kene. He asked of you. In fact, he’s visiting today.”
“Just for old times’ sake. After school, we all just scattered like that. I miss our little clique.”
Yeah, we were one tight clique. Just close friends. Until Kene had me in the back of his uncle’s car and made me fall for him and kicked off my addiction for south-eastern brothers. We dated throughout university but both parted ways when I got my first air hostess job while he began working for an oil company and was taken off shores for a freaking long time. I suffered a major heartbreak and begged him to let me and my heart be because I couldn’t bear the pain of being apart from him for long periods. It was hard for him to let go because he was madly in love with me as well. We parted but still kept the line open and sometimes maybe once or twice a year, we would spend the night together. However, he disappeared from radar almost four years ago and this is the first I’m hearing about him since then.
“Is he married?” I ask Saratu.
“No. But he’s fatter sha. Chubby but in a good way. Smells of good money too.”
“What time is he coming?”
“And you’re just telling me?”
“I should have told you earlier? Why?”
“Because I don’t want to see him.”
“Because I have enough exes popping up in my life at the moment! The flight I was on was flown by Nonso who had the galls to specially welcome me on board, right on the PA system! My life is enoughly complicated as it is! I don’t need Kene the crazy to make things worse!” I fire up to my feet. “He’ll come here, see me and start declaring love and demanding that I open my legs for him!”
“I never really understood your thing with that Nonso creep, to be honest. The guy is not even that fine or half as rich as Kene sef.”
If Saratu didn’t have this dark chocolate skin that I always envied, I would have given her a knock on her big head this moment. How is her off-topic statement helping my life problems? But wait a minite, I smell a rat here.
“Tellme the truth, Sara. Is Kene coming to visit you or me?”
Saratu, rather than answer me, finds her almost empty cup of tea intriguing.
“Okay, I met him at Selfridges the other day and he was going on and on about you. I just had to promise him that whenever you flew in, I’d call him over.”
“And you did. Well done. Anyways, entertain him yourself. Me, I’m going out.” I pick my purse from the sofa I had just risen up from and aim for the door. The moment I throw it open, I see Ekene standing there. He tries to act surprised but his yellow Igbo face can’t hide lies well.
My mouth dries up.
Memories of the past, please stay in the past. I don’t love this dude anymore. Jide is all I need.
“Sara didn’t tell me I’d find you here.”
“Yeah right.” My angry face is up.
“Are you okay? Why are you frowning like that?”
“I’m not frowning,” I say quickly. “I’m in a hurry. Can you please, step out of the way?”
He’s thrown by my attitude. The last time we met, we said goodbye in kisses. I’m sure he’ll easily conclude that I’m mad at him for going off grid. But I’m not; instead I’m mad at him for popping up on it.
“Maybe a hug won’t be bad.”
“I don’t hug guys anymore. It’s Haram.”
“Are you a Muslim now?”
“No. It’s a personal Haram.” I put out my hand for a shake. He takes it and kisses it tenderly, almost like the wind brushing over my skin. I withdraw quite fast.
I push past him and start down the street. I have nowhere in particular to go. In fact, I don’t even know this side of London, so I stroll around and do some tourist promenade and window shopping until my legs give in. I get elated when Jide calls. Out in front of a bookstore, with a little dog tied to a lamppost, yapping for no reason, I share with him how my day has been. Like me, he’s not happy to hear the news of my job.
“But it’s the life you’re used to and I realize it was selfish for me to ask you to leave it. I’m sorry I did, sugams. If you want to quit, you should do it for you, not for me.”
I shut my eyes and take in the sunless air. I think God is beginning to give me signs that Jide is the one. If not, why would he voice out the exact sentiments in my heart?
But my mistrust and insecurity won’t let me flourish.
“I don’t understand you, hotstuff. Last night, you wanted me to quit and now you’re saying you were being selfish? Are you giving up on us already?”
“No, Honey. I just want you to be sure it’s what you want when you do quit.”
Give him a break, Honey.
We converse further under a better mood. There’s laughter and some teasing and pillow talk. He runs out of airtime after an hour and promises to call late at night.
I feel lighter after he rings off. I head back to Saratu’s, hoping Kene is gone by now. Unfortunately I find him waiting. Saratu has just left the house to see a friend down the street.
“I have a boyfriend,” I state clearly, “just in case you think we’ll do what we used to do in the past.”
Kene keeps mum and watches as I take off my sneakers and sit far away from him. Not that the sitting room allows for that type of sitting. Four million pounds for cardboard box with no space.
“You look happier,” Kene mentions.
“Sexier. And your eyes… You’re in love?”
I blush. “How do you know?”
“It’s easy to tell. You used to have those eyes for me once upon a time.”
“Well, they’re for someone else now.”
“How about you?”
“Love keh. Unless with mami wata.”
I don’t get his joke. He explains that because he’s always at sea, he has no time for women.
“Up till now?”
“Up till now o. And momsie is begging me to bring her home a wife. As I am like this, I’m willing to find some reasonable girl and ask her to marry me, just to please the old bird.”
“Don’t you want to fall in love?”
He chortles. “Love? Love is work, Honey. And it takes time to build and nurture. And then there’s all that heartache in-between. Who wants that type of stress? I’d prefer to have someone I’m comfortable with since the one woman I’ve ever loved is in love with someone else.”
“Marry me, Honey.”
He drops the words like a bomb that explodes in my chest, cutting off my breath for a second. Oh Lord! Jide’s Bridemaker thing is no joke.
“What did you just say?” he asks.
“You still do you speaking out loud thing ba?”
“Did you just ask me to marry you?”
“Yes, I did. Marry me, Honey. I know you have a boyfriend but I don’t think you two will last like we have. I’ve been so lonely these past few months and I realized it’s because you have been missing in my life. We used to be so good together, baby…”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I moved on. And now, I’ve found someone else.”
“Someone else,” he repeats. “Does he know you like I do? Has he made love to you to the point you’re lying helpless, finding it hard to breathe?”
“Get out, Kene.” I stand up. I don’t want to hear any more of his crap. I point at the door.
“Has he seen this particular face on you, when you get confused and start acting irrationally because you can’t control a situation? Has he heard you fart or sat on the toilet floor while you pooped? Or held your hand while you aborted a pregnancy you carelessly got after a drunken one-night stand? Does he even know that part of your dark past? And if he did, would he still want you like I still do?”
“Get out, Kene!”
“Does he know you can never trust him, that I’m the only man you trust?”
Ekene finally heeds my orders and stands and walks to the door.
“The next time we meet, you’ll wear my ring. Mark my words.”
The door closes silently as if unaware of the storm brewing in me. I fall back into the chair and cry my eyes out. I feel helpless. Not that I can’t handle Ekene; it’s just that I feel a strong force tearing Jide and I apart. With the way things are going, I’ll give in to the urge to turn in my already-typed resignation letter and run back to Nigeria to be with him. But what if he breaks my heart?
Saratu returns and sees me crying. She tells me she can’t handle my tears, and dials Dele’s wife. Two of them listen to my story and both come up with their different solutions.
“Stick with Jide,” Dele’s wife advises. “I know it’s just two weeks but I think he’s surer of what he wants than Kene is. Kene just wants to please his mom and he always has this sense of entitlement over you just because he disvirgined you. If he really loves you, he would have proposed a long time ago.”
“I disagree,” Saratu butts in. “Talk about a man who has known Honey since teenage years, a man who loves her and still does, despite knowing her shit. Kene has not dated any girl apart from her. What other type of devotion does she want? And he’s not asking her to quit her job to come play loving wife with him like Jide suggested.”
“Honey loves Jide,” Dele’s wife makes clear.
“But she still has feelings for Kene.”
They go on and on whilst I sit, thinking of Jide and how much I miss him. I feel the debate is of no consequence. Kene is like the ice-cream I used to like when I was younger but now that I’ve tasted Baileys, it’s what I always want to take. I don’t hate the ice-cream but I’ll never go out of my way to buy it and I’ll settle for it only if Baileys stopped existing.
“Just sha follow your heart,” Dele’s wife concludes with a little annoyance in her voice because Saratu has somehow steered the whole thing into a discussion of who has more money. If I don’t break the argument up, Saratu will find a subtle way to remind Dele’s wife that her ex-husband toasted her first and she turned him down only to marry a less richer man; and then Dele’s wife will snidely state that wealth doesn’t guarantee a long-lasting marriage to an old man.
“Yeah, follow your heart,” Saratu agrees and we end the discussion. I try to bring up another topic but the mood has been soured. As much as these two love themselves, they fight unnecessarily. Today, I’m not ready to play peacemaker. I thank them for lightening my mood and retire to my room to wait for the night to come so I can speak to my hotstuff.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Mary and her quaint, little life. I find it very cute that she has these adorable flowerpots outside her apartment and the stairs that lead up to the door are painted pink and green. How delightful.
I knock on her door.
“Who is it?” she asks. Like I’m going to answer. I knock again and wait. I hear some sounds and then the door opens. Her mouth widens in surprise.
“Yes, bestie!” I spread open my arms and force-hug her, refusing to acknowledge that she is standing stiffly. Well, it’s hard to call Mary stiff. She has this soft pair of generous boobs that make for squishy hugging.
“I’ve missed you, May. Haven’t you missed me?”
She is still dazed.
“Can I…come in?”
She moves aside and lets me in. I walk into a typical Mary space – purple, girly and flowery. Yawn.
I slump on the bed like I own it and kick off my shoes. Mary stands over my head, staring. I notice she has her leg bandaged.
“Minor injury. Why are you here, Tari?”
“Why am I here? What a question! I came to see you nau. Come, give mommy a hug.”
Mary looks like she wants to slap me.
“Come on, May, let bygones be bygones. I messed up. I am sorry. Forgive me.”
“Just like that,Tari? You accused me of sleeping with Jide so many times and I kept forgiving you and mending our friendship because of your fragile heart. But then you go and stupidly slash your throat and refuse anyone to visit you in the hospital. Yeah, I remember when Shady and I came you were telling the nurse that you didn’t want to see those two demons. Remember?”
“I’m sowee, May.”
“Whatever. Just leave.”
I pout and use my small voice which Jide used to find charming back in the day. “Do you really want me gone? I love you, May.”
“Me, I don’t.”
“Well, I’m going nowhere. I’m sleeping over so we can catch up where we left off.”
“Lai-lai. I’ve moved on, Tari.”
“Come on, May. You know you miss your bae.” I get off the bed and spread my arms open as I go after her. “Come, give mommy a kiss.”
I grab her and plant kisses all over her not-so-pretty face. She used to hate when I did that but it always worked like it is working now. Soon, she gives in and blesses me with her first smile after five years.
“I hate you,” she says with tearful eyes. “You and Jide just abandoned me. I was a total wreck.”
“Aww, poor thang.” I hug her one more time. I hate her perfume. “Speaking of Jide…how is that misbegotten doing?”
“He’s fine. He’s back.”
“So I heard.” I sit on the bed.
“Wait, have you been in town?”
“Yes, not long ago.”
Lies. I’ve been around since I lost my mind and almost killed myself for my king. I never went away because the spell Kiya gave me specified that I was never to leave town for more than three days.
“Wait was it him that got married yesterday?”
“No, it was Emeka.” Mary looks at me suspiciously as she sits beside me.
“What?” I ask.
“You seriously have gotten over him?”
“Tay-tay. I even got meself a little boyfriend on the side.”
“That’s nice to hear. Congratulations.”
“But I’m curious. How is he doing after losing Ezinne?”
“Well, he’s healed. And moved on. He has a girlfriend now. Her name is Honey. Cool chick.”
If I didn’t know Mary like the smell of my own fart, I would have believed her crap. I clearly see the jealousy in her eyes. Bitch is still crazy about my man.
“I want to see him.”
Mary squeezes her face. “Why?”
“To apologize. My pastor says I should go around and mend bridges, especially with Jide. He said my past is holding me back from fully succeeding in life.”
“So…that is why you really came? Because of Jide?”
“No, May. I have put this off for a long time because I was scared you’ll turn me away. I’m back in your life for good. Or don’t you want me back?”
“I do. I’ve missed you.”
I place an arm on her shoulder and draw her into a partial hug. “Me too.”
“Let me call Jide…”
“And tell him I’m around? No, not now!”
“Don’t worry. I just want to tell him I want to see him. I doubt that he’ll have time for me sha. Since he started dating Honey, he’s been cut off from everybody.”
“Ah-ahn, why? I hope she’s not another Ezinne o. Let her not come and tear him away from his family and friends again.”
Mary gives the impression that I might be wrong but she doesn’t say anything to counter my words. I stay silent as she puts a call across to him. They converse briefly and she ends the call.
“He’s at home but it’s too late. We’ll see him tomorrow evening.”
“No wahala. It’s you I’ve missed, not him. So, let’s gist. Load my ears with everything that has happened in my absence. I heard fatty bombom is married?”
Mary laughs. “Yes, Bobby got married…”
Tuesday takes forever to come. And then I’m forced to endure waiting in Mary’s dreary house while she spends the whole day at work. When she returns, she showers and dresses in a pair of Ankara shorts which she terms casual. Wearing a plain black t-shirt on top does nothing to tone down her nicely-shaped onion butt which I’ve always envied.
“When did you start dressing like this, May?”
She laughs. “Celia and Noka literally changed my wardrobe. They stormed in here, took my clothes and dumped them in Noka’s car and drove off. Three days later, they returned with new clothes and now I’m owing them.”
Celia, Noka, Bimpe and Peace. I miss them. We used to be such good friends and I remember them fighting Jide when he dumped me for Ezinne. I’ll have to cozy up to them as well to win this battle of recapturing my king’s heart.
“Are you ready?” Mary asks. I nod. I pick my handbag that contains the voodoo box and we exit the house.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
We’re in a taxi outside Jide’s house. Without noticing that I’ve been paying attention, Mary has checked her reflection in the rearview mirror three times now. I promise myself to do away with her when Jide and I get back together.
“Let’s go in,” she tells me as she opens her door. I hesitate. “Let’s go,” she repeats.
She is confused. “Why?”
“Because I just changed my mind. I don’t want to see him.”
“But you said your pastor said…”
“I just can’t, Mary. Not today. I’ll do this another time.”
“Tari, what’s going on? You dragged me to this visit and now you’re chickening out?”
I smile inwardly. She’s falling for my oh-I’ve-screwed-up-and-I-don’t-think-Jide-will-forgive-me act. Dense fool.
“Let’s go in jare. Jide doesn’t hate you.”
“Okay. But if he shouts on me or…”
“He won’t. Ah!”
“Okay, can you not mention that it was my idea? You could say you brought me so we can bury the past.”
Good girl. Now, lead me like the faithful friend you are.
I alight from the taxi. There’s just one odd thing here, though. I don’t get Mary’s motives for readily agreeing to take me to see the guy she’s crazy about when she knows he has a girlfriend. What is she up to? Or wait…is the spell already working, causing the universe to work in my favor? Nice!
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
I slip into a t-shirt and shorts when I hear a knock on my door. I’m very curious as to why Mary wants to see me. She hadn’t sounded worried or sad on the phone yesterday. I hope she’s okay because really, I don’t have energy to handle anyone’s baggage today.
I turn the key in the lock and open the door. Shock is a mild word to aptly describe what I feel when I see Tarela standing beside Mary with this bewitching smile on her lips.
“Hi,” Mary greets. I pull her in and slam the door in Tarela’s face.
“What did you bring to my house?”
“Relax. It’s just Tarela.”
“Why did you bring her?”
“Because she desperately wanted to come and see you,” Mary whispers. “She has this touching story about mending broken fences from her past but I think she’s up to something, so just be sha careful.”
“Tell her to leave.”
“No nau. Act like you are oblivious of her games.”
“So that she’ll start stalking me? Hell no. She leaves.”
“Just pretend for this evening, Jide. Okay, we won’t stay long. Once she apologizes we’ll go.”
Just because it’s Mary asking, I let Tarela in.
She goes on tiptoe and pecks my cheek. Her lips are cold.
“Hi. Sit.” I offer a couch and they both sit. I look at Mary curiously. What’s with the sexy dressing these days? The thirst for husband must be real.
“Can I get you ladies anything?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Mary replies.
I walk to the kitchen and return with some apple cider for them.
“So why are you here, Tarela?”
I sit and stare straight into her eyes. She hesitates before she speaks.
She begins in a timid voice, telling me how sorry she is for all she did in the past, trying to ruin my relationship with Ezinne, stalking me and then trying to kill herself on my birthday.
“I forgave you long ago, Tarela. This visit is unnecessary.”
“I’m really sorry. It’s important that I hear you say you forgive me.”
“I forgive you. Are you happy?”
“See? I told you it was nothing,” Mary points out. Then off she goes into this lighthearted conversation about her boss at work, trying to lighten the mood. I remain silent throughout,wondering what the tattoos on Tarela’s body signify. They look eerie.
Finally, they announce that they are leaving but first Tarela says she wants to use the restroom. I point her to the guest bathroom.
“Don’t ever bring her here,” I tell Mary.
“I won’t. But you sef, you’re so mean. The only crime she committed is loving you.”
Tarela returns and I walk them to the door. She hugs me, lingering as she plants a kiss on my cheek and caresses a scar at the nape of my neck.
“Stop it.” I move back and give Mary a chummy hug.
In their absence, I pop open a bottle of beer and sit to watch TV. Something was very odd about that visit from Tarela but whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as her popping back into my life. Now she has cozied up to Mary. Next she’ll move on to the wives and then to the guys and I’ll be forced to see her psychotic face all the time.
No, I don’t think I can handle the heat it will create. I just have to get Honey back.
Image credits: Tumblr.com, Favim.com