We begin a new series: A tale of deception , betrayal and murder. Read on!
Damilola couldn’t contain her excitement as the
announcement that the flight she and Anu were waiting for was about to land.
She watched as the airplane came into view and as it began its descent from the
sky onto the runway, her heartbeat quickened in her chest. She scrounged her
hands together gleefully in anticipation. He was finally here! She hugged Anu
happily in her joy that he was going to be with her in some few minutes. She
didn’t have long to wait and another ten minutes saw him walking towards them
from arrivals.
Immediately
he stepped into sight, she rushed towards him and tried to envelope him in a
heartfelt hug but he brushed her aside, a slight frown marring his handsome
features. He squeezed her hand instead and softened the blow of the reject with
a smile. Damilola found her enthusiasm dampened a bit but she was undeterred,
mentally reminding herself that he was a shy person and hated public display of
affection. The only acknowledgement he made of Anu was a smile before they all
left for the waiting car while Damilola chatted nineteen to the dozen to cover
what would have otherwise been an awkward silence.
Anu
had agreed to drive them as if they were a newly married couple and would steal
a glance at the two seating at the back seat, flashing Damilola a smile
whenever their eyes met. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t as excited as
Damilola, one would think that he wasn’t the same guy that had insisted to come
down from America to see her and talked with Damilola almost every hour of the
day over the phone and all social media platforms available to the both of
them. Anu tried to keep her mind on the road and not on the strange behavior of
her best friend’s boyfriend. Maybe his silence had to do with her presence? Or
perhaps he was tired from his flight, who wouldn’t be with the way Damilola
said he worked so hard. Unknown to Anu, the same thoughts were running through
Damilola’s mind as she wondered why he was so cold and unresponsive to her. He
must be tired, she chided herself silently and snuggled closer to him.
***
Damilola
stared at her reflection in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. She looked
good but she couldn’t help worrying if she looked good 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? This hair looks so old, she
thought as she adjusted her curls so that it fell in loose waves over her
shoulder. They had been apart for two years and although they had talked every
single day of the two years, she couldn’t help feeling something was missing.
She ran a brush through her hair one more time before going to sit on the bed
to wait for him to finish having his bath. Her eyes strayed to his phone lying
on the dresser and she picked it up instinctively. A part of her felt like
going to his messages but she decided against it, it was best to let sleeping
dogs lie, hadn’t she learnt that from her last two relationships. His gallery
was a much more harmless place to check how he had passed the last two years.
She
laughed at a picture of him cooking in his boxers, there was another of him
snowballing and then the third picture hit her like a bombshell. It was a
pretty buxom black woman in nothing but panties posing sexily in the same
kitchen he had been cooking in the first picture. Damilola swallowed
involuntarily as her thumb slid across the screen of the phone to go to the
next picture and this time the other woman was smiling at her seductively with
the panties gone. She had her middle finger up and her tongue dangling out.
Damilola dropped the phone as if it was suddenly too hot to the touch and dashed
at the tears that had quickly found their way to her eyes. The wheels in her
head turned and her mouth suddenly felt bitter; she didn’t need to be psychic
to know that Gbade was cheating on her. Their perfect world was not so perfect
after all, she thought wryly. She heard the shower going off, a signal that he
was done in the bathroom and she tried to compose her features so that none of
the raging emotions she was feeling inside would bubble to the surface.
***
Gbade
came out of the bathroom and smiled at her warmly, his warmest since his
arrival and she found that his smile only made her feel cold. 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? He didn’t seem bothered that she was
with his phone, did that mean he had nothing to hide or he simply didn’t care?
If he didn’t care, why had he come down to Nigeria because of her? The thoughts
chased themselves around in her head and Gbade must have noticed that she was
suddenly not as excited as before because he asked her,
“Are
you alright? You look angry?” With a quick bright smile, she assured him she
was alright.
“Just
a bit tired from having to wait at the airport for so long.”
“You
shouldn’t have come out so early though, I wish you allowed me take a taxi or
something. You have outdone yourself with that meal I smelled when we came in.”
Damilola had cooked him his favourite dish hours before she headed to the
airport as a welcome home treat and he had said he would get to it as soon as
he freshened up.
“It’s
nothing really, you know…” the shrill sound of the phone cut her off and she
looked down at the phone in her hand. Mirabel! Could this be the other
woman? She studied his expression closely, trying to read his facials as he
talked in clipped tones with the other person over the phone. His answers were
short and from her position on the bed, it sounded strained. The alarm bells
were ringing in her head, why couldn’t he talk well to this person? This must
be the other woman. He wouldn’t meet her eyes as he talked and immediately he
dropped the phone, Damilola found herself asking,
“Who
was that? I thought nobody knows you are coming to Nigeria?” He shrugged and
muttered something about an overzealous colleague, walking out of the room to
prevent any further questions. He was barely out of the door when the phone
rang again, and she sat on the bed, straining her ear to listen to the
conversation. His voice was a bit hushed and Damilola found herself tiptoeing
to the bedroom door to listen. He was saying something about being with the
other woman.
“I
will call you when I have privacy, I am with her now. You really need to stop
calling me.” The hurt welled up inside of her and this time, the tears
spilled out of her eyes. She dashed at them with her hands angrily and headed
for the bathroom to splash water on her face so that he won’t know that she had
been crying. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. So she was the Nigerian
girlfriend? The girl to come home to? Perhaps she was just another name on his
list? Had she been foolish in love these last two years trying to keep a long
distance relationship? After she was sure she was calm enough to face him, she
came out of the room and watched him as he ate his food.
“Can
I see your phone?” She finally blurted, unable to resist the urge any longer
after she had been sitting for some minutes. His stare was a second too long
before he indicated she take it on the table and grabbing it like a prized
possession, she went straight for the gallery.
“You
look so funny cooking though,” she said with a forced laugh, feigning mirth at
the photograph as if she was just seeing it for the first time. He looked at
her and smiled before quickly taking a sip of water, averting his eyes.
When
she got to the incriminating photo, she turned to him with a questioning look
in her eyes.
“Who
is this?”
“I
didn’t take the picture!” Damilola snapped then. They might have been apart two
years didn’t mean she didn’t know when he was lying, she stood up and stared at
him in anger, her eyes flashing, “How stupid do you think I am Gbade? You
have a naked woman in your kitchen, the same kitchen you are cooking in with
nothing but your undies. I didn’t even ask who took the photo, I bloody asked
who she is? Don’t insult my intelligence!”
He
stared at her sheepishly, the guilt written all over his face, his hands paused
with a spoon of rice and dodo in his hands. He dropped the spoon and bowed his
head slightly. There was silence in the room.
“Why
Gbade? Why?” He reached for her but she moved back before dropping the phone
and headed towards the door.
“Dammy…wait.
Hear me out. Please!”
CREDIT:
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