My Husband and I
Dark Romance ?
Part 2 (Episode 22)
~Mary’s POV ~
“Wait a minute,” Comfort paused dramatically. “ You mean you saw that fine man from the club again and didn’t get his number?” She stared at me as if I had lost a brain cell.
“Comfort, I’m married.” I reminded her.
“I know, I know, “ she repeated, raising her hands in defense. She then smiled at me cheekily.
“I’m sure you didn’t forget you are married when you were with Abbey,” she teased, stressing his name.
I rolled my eyes for the tenth time today. The sad part was that she was undoubtedly right. While I did spend time at Abbey’s place, it almost felt like a dream, a fantasy. One I hadn’t realized I wanted to become real.
A few days have passed since then. After bumping into Shola, I went home, took a bath, and washed my clothes. I still had to be cautious. I had to wash away the delicious scent of him from my clothes. While I was washing my clothes, I got a call from Abbey asking where I was. I made up some elaborate lie that something came up and I had to leave. When in actuality I was too nervous to face him after my drunken stupidity.
In a way, he kind of scolded me for not waking him up so he could make me something to eat or at least walk me to my car or something. He admitted that he was worried and wanted to make sure I was safe. He jokingly said that the next time I walked out in the early morning without saying anything, I would get punished. I knew he was joking.
That aside, Abbey asked me if I will be doing anything on Christmas day. Usually, John travels outside the state during this festive season. He and a few other officers were used to staying outside Lagos whenever Christmas was around the corner.
I usually stay at home alone on the 24th listening to fireworks from inside the house. It was depressing each year, but it was better than being around John’s colleagues. There were usually around the house sometimes and I didn’t like seeing them except Ggbenga who doesn’t attend events like that anymore.
I admitted to Abbey what I do every year during Christmas, and he suggested something different. He invited me out to a family hangout his parents host every year. I figured why not since I don’t do anything, anyway.
***
Comfort and I were shopping to find me something to wear while she was looking for something to buy her boyfriend. He was going back to Abuja for two weeks to surprise her lover. I was happy to see how in love Comfort was. It also made me sad knowing that she’d be moving there permanently, soon.
“So, do you think his family will like me?” I asked her.
“Why? Are you trying to impress your in-law? “ she said jokingly.
“You are mad.”
She laughed
We moved from the heading into the next aisle.
“Of course, they’ll like you, sweetheart. You’re a sweetheart. Besides, you and Abbey are both from the same tribe, that’s if they discriminate against tribe. She said.
And that reminded me about her lover who is an Igbo boy.
“Well, you are right, I don’t even know what they’d be eating over there. You know I detest all these Yoruba delicacies. I’m a bit nervous about what I’d be eating there.”
“And what will stop Abbey from making something for you both? He can do it. Meanwhile, why don’t you eat our very own delicacies?” She added.
“Well, maybe I’ll start eating when I get there, so they don’t make me feel different.”
“Listen, if they do and I’m sure they’ll. Don’t eat too much. You know how it is when you eat foreign food for the first time,” she paused. “I’m sure you don’t want to embarrass yourself by blowing up the family toilet.
We busted into laughter.
The crazy part of the conversation was that Comfort was right again. Through many years of us being best friends, we usually take vacations together sometimes. At each place we visited, I would always react to a new food that gets into my system. Not necessarily a bad one, but I often needed a day to recuperate my body. It’s only because my body doesn’t know how to handle food, I don’t eat regularly.
Luckily, the night I ate at Abbey’s house, the food wasn’t foreign to my body, so I didn’t react. But when I go to this hangout, I pray that they’ll have at least rice or something common.
“You are right. Now help me pick out something that’ll be easy to take off in case I do..,” we busted out laughing, startling the surroundings shopper.
We spent the next hour and a half shopping. I loved hanging out with Comfort and hadn’t realized I missed her until now. She was the sister I never had whom I was glad I had in my life. I don’t know who or what I’d be without her. She was the first beside Abbey who could make me laugh and be myself.
I knew I was messed up and that I could only count on her before meeting Abbey to make me happy. Isn’t that a husband’s job? Happy wife, happy life.
Speaking of, since that night he hurled those words at me while being intimate, I’ve kept my distance. It wasn’t him avoiding me, we were avoiding each other. The thought of being in that house with him made me feel sad, anxious, and depressed. I wasn’t sure if or when he’d say something more painful to me. So I was constantly on edge or finding excuses to leave when he was home on his off days.
It was a shame, really. Before he had hurt my feelings that night, I thought that things would go back to normal. They usually did after we made love. segz fixed everything in our marriage, but it didn’t that night.
Now, I wasn’t sure what to do. Didn’t know how to fix it, fix us. I’ve done it for years so we could be happy. I thought he was happy. How could I fix our marriage if he didn’t love me? I ponder these thoughts all the time. And sometimes, when I’m all alone and in the cold building I call home, I think to myself:
Do I want to fix what I feel is broken?
***
Friday, 24th December *
We rode in comfortable silence, music from the stereo playing faintly while Abbey drove us to his parent’s house. The scenery was beautiful outside, surrounded by lush green and empty land. I could classify a few houses as mansions as we passed through the area.
Although I was nervous about meeting Abbey’s family, I was also excited. It’s been years since I celebrated Christmas like it should be. My husband did, while I would stay at home. But now, doing some different, I was ecstatic.
It was on Christmas Eve, the day itself had started great. I made breakfast and lunch for John before he got dressed and then left with his small bag which meant he won’t be coming back that week. We did not speak a word to each other. I pushed our intentions to the back of my mind to not upset myself.
After making sure he was gone, I got myself ready, wearing a dress with my bathing suit underneath. Abbey had told me to make sure I was wearing one since his family had a pool. At the time, I was imagining a small pool that wasn’t built in, but the more homes we passed that looked like mini-mansionss, I had a feeling the pool would be large.
Abbey cleared his throat, capturing my attention, so I turned to him. His large hands gripped the steering wheel with his forearms on full display. Seeing him drive was admittedly segzy and made me recall our recent night together. Also, when I ran like a coward the next morning. Although Abbey had worried more about my safety, he didn’t mention what we shared that night. Our kiss, I wasn’t sure if I was unhappy with that or not.
My feelings towards him were growing and it was becoming harder to act naturally around him. To ignore the intense attraction I held for this man. I know that I had to for the sake of our marriage, but I was coming to the horrifying realization that I might not want.
Abbey was good to me. In the brief months I have spent time with him, talked to him, and felt safe with him, he was a good man. A great man. Why couldn’t my husband be like him? Lost in my thought, it took Abbey calling me twice to bring me back.
“Yes?” I questioned.
“Are you okay?” He moved his eyes from the road to glance at me, before refocusing.
“I’m fine, I promise. I’m just a little nervous.” I admitted. He used his right hand to grab my hand, holding it in his grasp and I let the feel of his hand encasing me in warmth and had me feeling funny. That’s one of the things I liked about Abbey. The way we could carry out a slight gesture caused me to effect easily. I should h@ťě it, but I didn’t.
“Don’t worry, my family will love you.”
“You think so? Will they call me a stranger too? I teased with a giggle.
He frowned, his grip tightening a bit. “No, they won’t call you that,” I laughed, and he glanced at me again.
“I’m serious.”
And the fact that I could tell he was entirely serious caused me to laugh harder. Who knew Abbey could get territorial over a nickname?
After that, we continued to make small talk and listen to music.
Soon enough Abbey had pulled into a long driveway, stopping at a large gate before the house. He rolled down his windows, someone opened the gate from the inside and he continued to drive as I look in the spectacular view. I should have known they would have a large home since they owned a successful restaurant.
The outside appearance looked more lively with flowers. Abbey parked the car and we unbuckled our seatbelts and he exited while I waited. He never let me open or close doors for myself. In one of many ways, it showed how much of a gentleman he was.
Quickly, he opened my door, reached his hand out for me, and helped me out of the car before shutting the door. We walked hand in hand to the large blue-painted front door. It wasn’t until the door opened that I let go of his hand. I could see him frown in response but couldn’t be sure.
Who would have thought a day like this would come?
To be continued…
Frank The Writer