“Are you serious? Do you have any idea the likely consequences of what you’re about to do?” Sheila asks carefully and I nod.
Sheila has been my best friend for five years. We met in our first year at the University and we’ve been very close since then. I had slept over at her place as part of my plan to ‘cheat’ on my husband and I’m now getting ready to go back home.
“It’s no big deal Sheila, I just want to hurt him a little bit and it’s not like I’ll be sleeping with my boss.” I answer calmly but Sheila isn’t convinced.
“So, your outrageously handsome young boss is hitting on you and you want to ‘fake’ an affair with him just to hurt your husband? What makes you think he cares? If he really loves you he wouldn’t have turned you into his punching bag in the first place.”
“All men have ego and the poor ones have specially huge egos. I believe it will really hurt him to find out his wife is having an affair with a rich man.”
“Your boss, is he in on this? Does he know what you are doing?”
“No, he thinks I really want to have an affair with him and I don’t intend on telling him either, he has money to squander and I want to help him out.”
“Biola, I know that you think you can handle all of this but honestly, I don’t see how you can date your boss and not sleep with him. Besides, what happens if your husband just kicks you out? Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant?” Sheila asks again and I shrug.
“I can have an abortion.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. You can’t do that, it’s murder.”
“I’m just three weeks gone Sheila, it’s still an embryo.”
“An embryo with life! It’s an embryo that will grow to become a fetus and then a baby, a human baby.”
“If I don’t get rid of it Femi will anyway, he’ll beat me one day and I’ll lose the baby.” I say factually and Sheila pulls me to sit beside her on the bed.
“Leave your husband, leave him and move in here with me, I’ll take care of you and we can take care of the baby together. Just push out all those crazy ideas in your head and move in here with me.”
“Thanks but you don’t get it Sheila, I love my husband very much and doing this is just to find out if the feeling is mutual, if he kicks me out then I might as well just date my boss and if he doesn’t, we will have other children. I’ll get rid of this one for now.” I say with a tone of finality and pick up my bag. “I have to leave now, don’t worry about me, I can handle things and please don’t let my husband know I spent the night the night here.”
“I can’t change your mind, can I?” Sheila asks slowly and I shake my head. “I’ll let you know how things go. Bye Sheila.”
I enter the compound to find my husband sitting in front of the house but I decide to ignore him and start to walk past him but he pulls me back.
“Have you gone mad? Where do you think you are coming from? You left this house yesterday evening and you are just coming back?” He asks with feign disbelief in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I told you there was work to do at the office and we worked through the night, I spent the night at the office.” I reply calmly, knowing the worst that can happen is the regular beatings I’m already used to.
“You really expect me to believe that? You couldn’t even call to let me know!” He screams as he raises his fist to hit me, his eyes are bulging out they are almost falling out of their sockets.
“You should know by now that I am used to your constant beatings, Femi, you can hit me all you want but the only thing you will be doing is helping me get rid of this pregnancy I already plan on getting rid of. So please, go on and hit me.”
I don’t know where the words or the confidence to say them came from but I can see their blinding effects on Femi; his fist remains mid-air and his mouth slowly falls open. I carefully free myself from his grip and make my way into the house in a rush, fearing that the spell my words have cast on him will suddenly lift and he’ll beat me to a pulp. I run into the room and bolt the door and for hours, it seemed like I was the only one in the house…until I hear a knock on the door and the voice that follows is so soft and strained I could have sworn it isn’t my husband’s.
“Please Biola open the door, we need to talk.”