The hubby just told me some B.S which I just nodded at, kissed him and re-assured him we’ll be fine about. Telling me something like he’s afraid of other men looking and lusting after me and that he just wants to protect me bla bla bla…I was determined to find out the real truth so I called my girl Nkem on my handsfree as I drove to work that morning.
“O girl, e be like say e no ready to chop microwave o.” That’s Nkem. My brain has given up trying to analyse and decipher half the things she says.
“wetin be dat?” I asked confused.
“He can’t let go of wifey. He was getting too used to the meal awaiting him on the table after work and the ass awaiting him in bed when he needed it.” She chuckled “he don’t wanna let go.”
“Nkem..did you have to say ass? I feel so objectified.” I laughed.
“Objecti-kini, but na true I talk.”
I sighed. “So you think that’s it?”
Nkem and I went to school together since we were in primary 1. Then we both got into the same secondary school, Jephta, but alas, her father got a cross-posting to Malaysia after our JS1 and then my dad got a job in the Netherlands. We lost contact for about 10 years until one day during my many visits to Nigeria we bumped into each other at The Palms. I was coming out of Shoprite and she was heading into it.
I immediately recognized her and could not believe myself! although she was heavily pregnant with my godson and had bloated up like crazy, I still knew it was her! I hate to admit it but later when I found out she was married to a white man, I cringed, knowing the history between white men in Nigeria and our beautiful girls. Nick proved to be cool though, so I fianlly approved- not that it mattered.
What matered was that we caught up immediately. This was nice given that the last time we saw eachother we were 11 years old. That goes to show that true love never fails I guess. Nkem had always been my protector at school, she was always taller and louder, while I was smaller and quieter. She was (and still is) very pretty and all the girls envied her. I had very long black hair and the best clothes (..as per 10 year old taste) so all the girls wanted to be my friends too and the guys just liked us because we were funny. *sigh* Cheers to easy times..
“We’ve been having extensive conversations about this for two months now. I don’t want to think about this anymore,” I pouted.
“Just relax, love him well well tonight and he will forget.” We both laughed.
“I guess he needs reassurance that I’m still his.”
Suddenly the plans started forming in my head.
“I know what I’m gonna do!” I shrieked excitedly.
“Ah-ahn, my ear naah. wetin?”
The first day of work went breezily. I was introduced by the board to the rest of the senior managers in the firm, given a grueling orientation of their mission and goals and how I would fit in them. Then I met my reporting director. He seemed nice, a little too chatty for me though, but it was cute when he asked me how I liked my coffee. Maybe the last VP Finance made him get coffee for him or her. Speaking of which I need to find out who the last VP Finance was and why he or she no longer holds the position.
I met my subordinates. They were friendly but I am not fooled easily, it’s all first day fever, I’d like to see their faces after our first project together.
After work though, I GTAed home (Grand theft auto..a game my godson introduced me to) and quickly threw off my skirt. The hubby was right after all, it sha wasn’t easy trying to walk for long periods in that skirt!
I entered the kitchen after changing into shorts and an old tank top and I began dicing, chopping, boiling and spicing. Cooking for him actually made me feel happy and fulfilled, knowing what he liked to eat excited me. When we first got married we experimented with food. Trying out what we liked and what we didn’t, cooking for each other and tasting till we finally reached a consensus on our favorite food together and our individual favorite meals.
After all was cooked and done; I layed them out nicely on the dining table, went to the wine cellar, picked out an age old delectable, set out two wine glasses, stepped back to observe and saw that it was good.
Then I went upstairs and soaked myself in the tub, with jasmine and vanilla (his favorite scent on me) bath salts and foam. My body was completely relaxed by the time I heard the gates open outside the house and the familiar hum of my husbads car pulling in and coming to a halt.
All of a sudden, anticipation shot through my body.
I quickly drained the water, rinsed and dried my body and then put on a thigh length trench coat and one of the hubby’s bowler hats.
I ran down the stairs and positioned my self in front of the door, with the trench coat buttons undone and my body revealed underneath. My left hand was on the hat, while I struck a silly sexy pose while waiting. I heard him walk towards the door talking to somebody, but he was always ‘still at work’ on the phone until he was about a minute inside the door so I wasn’t bothered.
Then the key turned and my husband stepped in. The smile on his face turned into shock when he saw me and I felt like laughing at his reaction when I heard,
“Holy sh..that your wife?”