Here’s the 1st of the 4 Part series by Oladimeji Ojo @iStalkWriters here on tlsplace. Crisp, Short, Sharp, always leaving you wanting more…
The day I found out my wife was cheating, I wasn’t prepared. I had not been suspecting for weeks, the sex wasn’t stale (at least not to me) we weren’t going through a rough patch, anything of the sort.
That very morning she had come out of the shower and pressed her naked body against me. I had to change my suit, shirt and tie afterward and I was late for a meeting with my publisher but it was totally worth it.
That’s why when I walked into my home that afternoon, 3 hours earlier than normal, hoping to continue from where we left off in the morning, I didn’t expect to see my wife fucking someone else in the pool. My pool.
My first instinct was to pick a knife off the kitchen cabinet. I almost did. If I had, I would have killed one or both of them I wasn’t sure who I wanted to kill more. The one I loved who had broken my trust or the object of her adulterous desires. Then I saw his face, and the hand reaching to pull out a knife stopped in its tracks.
It wasn’t my brother or boss or best friend. It was hers. Her best friend, the guy who had always been there. They were friends before I met her. Friends while we dated. Friends when we got married and she asked me to make him one of my groomsmen. Friends till now. At first I was uncomfortable with how close they were.
She told me he was like a brother to her. Then he got a girlfriend, a hot one, who he eventually married and I never saw him in that light again. Till now of course, in the harsh light of reality.
He had always been around it could have been going on for years. If it had, that would make me a fool. I was hurt, betrayed, angry, but I was not a fool. Killing one or both of them right now in a fit of rage would be illogical, foolish. They were still at it in the pool oblivious to me for the half hour I stood in my own kitchen watching my wife betray me. Then I left.
At first, I was unsure what to do. I’m not a gangster or military man, nor did I know any, so getting him killed or beaten to within an inch of his life was out of the question. I am an author. A rather successful one. My last book sold around 3 million copies each in 6 continents, that is how I was able to afford the mansion in Asokoro with a pool and tennis court on the grounds that my stay at home by choice wife had converted to a love nest.
I’m not physically intimidating either. I couldn’t beat him up myself. The only tool I had, the only weapon I had was my mind. I drove back to the office. I knew the gateman would report that I had been home. She called just as I walked into my office. She sounded nervous.
I told her that I forgot my USB drive on the mantelpiece and I had picked it up, used the guest bathroom and returned to the office. That I had called out her name but she didn’t respond so I figured she was sleeping and since I wasn’t staying long I decided not to disturb. She believed me. She had to.
I sat in my office with the lights off. The emptiness scared me tonight. I had rented the office space in Gwarimpa to handle the business side of the literary world and to have a zone. A place away from home where I could come up with ideas. I needed an idea badly that night. I got a few.
I went home that night, kissed my wife, made love to her and slept like a baby. She was surprised by how energetic the lovemaking was, I told her I had come up with a plot for my new book. I never showed my work till I was done so she didn’t press me. …