Damilola couldn’t contain her excitement as she saw
the flight that she and her friend Anu had been waiting for slowly land on the
runway. Her stomach fluttered and she scrounged her hands together in gleeful
anticipation. He was finally here! She heaved a sigh of relief as she hugged
Anu happily; he was going to be with her shortly. She didn’t have long to wait,
another ten minutes and he walked out.
Immediately he stepped into sight she
rushed towards him and tried to engage him in a heartfelt hug but he brushed
her off with a slight frown marring his handsome features, softening the blow
with a smile, he squeezed her arm. Her enthusiasm damped a bit but she was
undeterred as she mentally reminded herself that he was a shy person and hated
public display of affection.
Damilola chatted nineteen to the dozen as they went
to the car that they had brought to pick him up. Like a newly married couple
they settled in the comfortably in the back seat while Anu drove, beaming at
them from the mirror once in a while. He was uncomfortably silent and answered
her absentmindedly; again she reminded herself that he must be tired from his
flight. Who wouldn’t be? He was just arriving from America, give the guy a
break she chided herself silently and snuggled closer to him to have a closer
sniff
******************************************************************************
Damilola stared at her reflection in the mirror, she
looked good yet she felt she wasn’t looking pretty enough for him. Did he still
like her smile? Did he still find her charming and attractive? Maybe she should
have gotten a manicure before he arrived? Her hair looked old. They had been
apart two years now and although they had talked every day, she felt something
was amiss. She picked up her brush and ran it through her hair as she waited
for him to finish from the bathroom. Her eyes strayed to his phone lying on the
dresser and she instinctively picked it up. Checking his pictures would be a
good way to pass the time she thought as she scrolled to the gallery menu. She
laughed at a picture of him cooking in his boxers, then there was one he had
flour all over him, the third picture hit her like a bombshell. It was a pretty
buxom black woman in her panties posing sexily against the gas cooker with
nothing else on. She swallowed involuntarily as she went to the next picture
and this time the woman had no panties on, she was winking seductively to the
camera with her middle finger up and her tongue dangling out like that of a
dog. She dropped the phone as if it burned and dashed at the tears that had
found their way to her eyes. The wheels in her head turned and her mouth
suddenly became bitter; she didn’t need to be told by a soothsayer that Gbade
was cheating on her. Her perfect world as not so perfect at all she thought
wryly. She heard the shower going off and knew he must be done, arranging her
hair which she had grabbed at in her dismay; she composed herself and put on a
saccharine sweet smile.
******************************************************************************
Should she confront him? Should she ask him about
it? Who was the woman, what was her name, what was she doing in his house? The
emotions clashed around in her head and Gbade must have noticed her sudden mood
swing because he chose then to ask if she was alright. With a quick bright
smile she assured him everything was alright and that she was just tired from
having had to wait at the airport and cook him dinner. She was still talking
when the phone rang and her eyes darted to the gadget. Mirabel! It was a
woman’s name, could that be the woman? She studied his expression and tone as
he answered the other woman on the phone. Her studies as a psychology major
paid off then. He wouldn’t meet her eyes and he kept on answering in a
monologue, there was definetly something about the woman. After his call, she
asked sweetly who that was and with a shrug of his shoulder he flipped it off
as just another colleague asking if he was Nigeria. She cleared the table and
made for the kitchen, the phone rang again and she paused behind the kitchen as
she listened to the conversation. He was talking something about being with the
other woman he told her of, she should stop calling as he would call her when
he had privacy.
The hurt welled up and the tears spilled over, she
quickly turned on the tap and splashed water over her face, she wouldn’t let
him see her cry. So she was the Nigerian girlfriend? Was she the local number
to come home to; perhaps just another name on his list? Had she been foolish in
love this last two years trying to keep a long distance relationship? She went back to the room and sat gingerly on
his lap as she wrapped her arms round his neck and asked if she could see his
phone. He stared at her for a second too long then handed it over. She went
straight for the gallery and cooed how sweet he looked in the kitchen. When she
got to the incriminating photo, she turned to him with a questioning look in
her eyes. He smiled and said he wasn’t the one that took the picture. They
might have been apart two years didn’t mean she didn’t know when he was lying,
she stood up from his laps and cocking her brows asked “How stupid do you think
I am Gbade, you have a naked woman in your kitchen with you also posing almost nude and you say
it’s not you? Don’t insult my intelligence!”
He stared at her sheepishly with the guilt all over
his face, bowing his head slightly, he reached blindly for her as she evaded
his touch. She ran out of the room as he called to her…
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