We arrived the Murtala Airport late on Saturday evening from Dubai.The flight had been smooth.
My younger sister, Elsie, was there to receive us. The moment she saw us, she brightened, and edged closer. She was looking delectable.I have always envied her body and her beauty. I still do.
Her steps were very deliberately sensual.
Nsikak grinned
I wore dark shades.
“Ah ah Sister. What about the glasses?” My younger sister, Elsie ,said.
I smirked, and removed my shades.
“Ahh, what happened to you?” She asked. The mark of the devil hadn’t totally erased.
She exchanged glances with Oga and he cleared his throat and replied. ” Hmmm, she fell from one of the stairs in Dubai”
“Stair case? What happened?That is serious”, Elsie said, concern in her voice. “Sister, I hope you are now alright?”
“I took her to the hospital” he said, hugging me.
I nodded a sympathetic nod. And gave a fake smile again.
“Madam, welcome”. Akpan our driver, said,as he took our luggages from us.
“Akpan, aba die?”, Nsiskak said. They exchanged handshakes and both laughed heartily.
“Idioko”, Akpan responded in the midst of the laughter.
We were led by Akpan, our driver, to where the SUV was parked. And we returned home in silence.
For the next one month I had no intercourse with my husband. I stayed in my room. As a matter of fact, I locked it.
But after about a month, I relaxed. Nsiskak seemed to change. He was nice, apologized repeatedly about what happened in Dubai, and bought me gifts.
Work returned to normal. I returned to my Bank job after the leave and Nsikak kept traveling round for his preaching engagements.He had quite a lot within Uyo where we lived. You could actually see his pictures on a number of Bill Boards as invited guest for a number of church programs.
I didn’t tell anyone about the Dubai incident. I just let it pass. It was my cross. I remained the submissive wife.
4 months into my marriage, I was bored.But I returned back to staying with him in his room. He didn’t touch me or make any attempt.There was a huge gap between us when we slept on that bed.
There was no sex again.
No spark.
No desire.
Just memories of violation. Of rape. Of the beatings. Though it was far behind, I could still feel it as if it were yesterday.
And still I wanted a man, a decent man. Decent sex. The regular sex.
Now I was getting attracted to some of my co-workers. I desperately wanted to have sex with one of them. Any of them. Women, do understand this?
I was living in hell.
I went to work this Monday morning.
By 10 am there was a file my boss needed for me to provide. But it occurred to me that I had left it at home.
I hurried back home in my SUV.
I dashed into the house. The door was unlocked. Then I went to his room, opened the door to go fetch the file that most likely was at the side of the bed.
I heard moans and stopped dead in my track.
They were both underneath the sheet.
His head was the one I noticed first. There was no shock in his eyes.
Then I saw the next person and my jaw dropped!
“Akpan, what are you doing in my matrimonial bed?!”