In the previous episode of Shades of Deceit
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‘Have you been having trouble sleeping?’ The doctor asked, lifting his face up from his writing.
Laide thought briefly about Sunday’s incident with the flashing phone light but decided that didn’t apply to the question. ‘No,’ she heard herself say, ‘is there a problem doctor?’
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‘How are you dearie?’
I’m great, his wife responded from the other end. He could feel the joy in her voice, even though it sounded sleepy.
‘Did I wake you up?’
‘No… you know I will not sleep without hearing from my sweetheart,’ she said, her voice teasing and sweet.
‘I know,’ Michael said, smiling sheepishly to himself. ‘Can’t wait to be with you tomorrow,’…
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I’m coming over.
You can’t, he quickly replied, his heartbeat picking up pace. This is a hotel!
You better leave your door open, so I don’t have to knock when I get there. You don’t want us waking up the other guests. I’m on my way.
Michael dashed to the door to open it up…
He rubbed his palms against each other, as his eyes stayed glued to the entrance of the door. He waited with bated breath as he allowed his heartbeat do a countdown to the arrival of trouble.
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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11th, 2014.
Gwarimpa Estate, Abuja.
Laide took her husbands’ luggage from him as he stepped into the sitting room leading the way to their bedroom.
It didn’t escape her that his eyes shifted away from hers, preferring instead to draw her to himself in a warm hug. She sensed something was wrong, but she couldn’t lay a finger on it.
Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, she thought to herself as she watched him take off his jacket, but why would he cut her call and switch off his phone, if there was nothing to hide? She asked herself, her lips mute but her eyes travelling, searching for signs on her husband that didn’t exist. The man was clean.
‘You will take a shower before your meal I guess?’ Laide asked, placing the luggage at the foot of the bed.
‘Sure,’ Michael replied as he unbuttoned his shirt. His eyes still very shifty, avoiding the gaze of his wife. He had an already scripted answer in his head but the question had not been asked. This was a delicate game of timing. Answer before the question is asked -you’re pronounced guilty. Don’t answer rightly when the question is asked -you’re also pronounced guilty. He just had to wait for the right time to spew forth the words he had already constructed in his head. With those thoughts running around in his mind, he made for the bathroom.
Laide watched his retreating figure as he disappeared into the bathroom. Her fingers reaching out for his phone immediately her ears picked out the sound of running water. She knew he would not be in the bathroom for more than five minutes, so there was no time to waste.
Her eyes narrowed on the calls log as she confirmed her number on his list, My Good Thing…03/09…22:20, she pushed the touch pad to the blackberry messenger, her fingers working feverishly on the device.
She found her subject and tapped on the touch pad to open up the chat history. Her salivary glands stopped functioning, leaving her mouth dry and her eyes all popped out as she stared at the nude pictures on the screen of the phone.
She shook her head, trying to get Ivie’s nude images off her vision as she searched for Priye’s ID on her husband’s phone. It seemed like a perfect case of Deja vu as she tapped on the touch pad to open up the chat history.
This chat has no subject. You can add it anytime using the menu…
She looked at the phone suspiciously, her face wrinkled in worry. Something was wrong.
How could Priye’s chat history be blank when just last week, it had some innocent church conversations?
Yes, her curiosity had led her to check her husband’s phone, particularly Priye’s conversations knowing that she would be in the company travelling to the conference. It had gladdened her then to see that they had only sparse discussions between them, the last one dating back to January, and prior to the church’s praise night. It was the singular reason she had not pressed for the inclusion of her loyal spy -Nike in the entourage.
‘But Nike would not have been able to stop them from chatting,’ she muttered to herself, Atleast she was sure nothing physical happened between them, seeing that Pastor Tony was part of the trip. There was no way they could have done anything unseemly with him hanging not too far off, she thought within herself, desperately trying to console herself.
‘If nothing happened physically, how could she be so sure nothing happened via chatting?’ She asked under her breath, her thoughts running riot. It was the singular reason the blank chat history bothered her.
What could have been in the chats with Priye that would have made her husband go as far as deleting chat history -another set of nude pictures?
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Michael stood directly under the shower, letting the water massage his head as it ran down his body. It was supposed to have a soothing effect but the confusion inside of him neutralised any of such effects.
She was in his head.
We can’t do this now. Not with Pastor Tony somewhere in the hotel. What if he comes to my room? He asked, protesting as tamely as he could as she sat astride him.
‘O ye of little faith. You have not received a spirit of fear, but of love,’ her voice cooed sensuously in his ears. Her lips munching the tip of his left ear lobe, setting his body aflame with desire.
It’s of power and of love and of a sound mind. He corrected her.
‘You’re the Pastor,’ she said as her hands navigated the familiar territory of his chest, ‘I’m a singer, I think it’s time you do your job so I can sing,’ she said as she cupped her breasts with his hands.
That was the exact moment the song Olo mi by Tosin Martins serenaded the room, it was his special ringtone for his wife.
She cut the call and put the phone off, tossing it further away from them before lining his lips with a hot kiss.
He was entranced.
‘Do you know I can’t remember when I cut the call and put off my phone? I was so fast asleep,’ Michael muttered to himself, rehearsing his answer to his wife’s anticipated question. He turned off the shower, grabbed a towel from the rail and mopped his body. It was time to face the music and face it he must, he sighed as he stepped out of the bathroom.
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Nike glossed over the report on the table for the umpteenth time, she wanted to be sure there were no mistakes on the final edit copy of the report. She was that thorough.
Satisfied with the work, she rose up from her chair, picked up the report and made for the pastor’s office.
As she entered the office, she opened up the report and scanned through the pages again before placing it strategically in front of the chair on the desk. She wanted to make sure it would be the first thing he saw when he sat on his chair.
She was sure he had arrived Abuja from Lagos already, as she was the one who had booked a first flight for the trio who had gone for the conference. She however didn’t expect him in the office till it was about eleven thirty or twelve noon, as she knew he would first make a stop at home to see his wife before coming over to the office.
She let her fore finger drag on the Ciello executive desk, feeling the smooth finish of the exquisite furniture as she took a stroll around the office, her eyes surveying the room to make sure everything was in its proper place.
As her finger ran along the desk, memories of countless escapades on top of the desk flooded her mind but the memory of the first time, stood out from the others -it was a classic.
‘We can’t do this,’ she pleaded, as they took a break from their long kiss.
‘Why?’ he asked, his eyes fierce like that of a predator.
She thought of a reason why they couldn’t do it and all of a sudden there was none, after-all she wanted it too. ‘You’re a man of God,’ she said almost in a whisper. Cursing herself deep down for the words that just came out of her mouth and hoping that he didn’t hear them.
‘You’re right, I’m a man of God,’ He said, his hands still wrapped around her waist, eyes staring deep into hers. ‘But I’m first a man, before I’m of God and right now, the man in this man of God wants this beautiful lady,’ he whispered into her ears as he lifted her up from the ground, sitting her gently on the desk.
The session was classic.
Nike snapped out of her reverie as she heard the hello sound from her office. It sounded like the voice of Pastor Ben. She took one last glance around the room as she hurried out to attend to the voice.
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Gwarimpa Estate, Abuja.
Michael could feel his wife’s eyes on him as he buttoned his shirt. He knew the question was going to drop anytime soon. He had the answer ready, Do you know I can’t remember when I cut the call and put off my phone? I was so fast asleep.
‘Why is Priye’s chat history blank?’ Laide asked, her eyes fixed fiercely on her husbands’. She wanted to take in every bit of his body movement, to know whether to believe his words or not.
Michael was transfixed. That was the wrong question. His head was still searching for an appropriate answer when he heard his mouth speak, ‘what sort of a nonsense question is that?’
‘The kind that a wife would ask?’ Laide fired back, her eyes showing her anger.
Michael kept quiet as he brushed his hair, peeping into the mirror to catch a glimpse of himself. As he dropped the brush on the shelf, he could feel the scalding eyes of his wife burn through his back. ‘I can see your mind has started cooking things up again, I will ignore you,’ he said as he made for the door.
Laide got up quickly from the bed and intercepted her husband, her eyes demanding a different answer from the one her husband was currently offering. ‘Have you started fooling yourself with Priye just like you did with Ivie?’ Laide asked, her voice laced with contempt.
The response was fast. It was a lightning slap across her face as the force of the back of his left palm sizzled on her right cheek, sending her crashing to the ground.
‘Don’t you ever talk to me in that tone of voice in your life again,’ Michael barked as he grabbed the car keys from the hangar, the sound of her sobs trailing him as he stormed out of the bedroom, shutting the door with a bang.
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