Excerpt from episode 5:
I thought I still had Ella until I noticed how carried away she was by the talks of this man. She laughed and was smug. I was angry and depressed at the same time as I gazed from afar. It’s hopeless, she’s gone, something said within me. Just when I thought it was a mere evening date, this man brought out a small white box which seemed like a talisman given by a local witch doctor. On a closer look, it was a beautiful white box. Oh my God!. As he made to the floor with his knees, I shouted.
This was the beginning of my story as a married man, a husband and a Graduate.
To read episode 5: CLICK HERE
I fixed my gaze at them. They were seated and gorging themselves on cupcakes and tiny shreds of chips in ketchups. The bar was pretty noisy and but grand decor. It was a perfect site for the love story that inadvertently wrote. The gala swathes of ivy that decorated the large hall and holly curtains on the bay windows, the lighting; the enormous chandeliers with serrated nozzles that buried luminous lights hanging above the ceilings and to top it all, the place was brightly-lit and people were abuzz with animated chatters.
Despite the distractions, I tried not to miss a step or two in the romance set before my abashed eyes. As the frumpy looking man reached for her hands whilst holding the small white box, I scurried off to their seats pliantly passing through the rowdy persons who strewed about in the hall. He held out a small ring from the box and that was when I descended into the arena. Impulsively, I slapped the black out of the man’s face. He blared furiously and reached for one of the bottles in the table but he was intercepted by some young men who watched the way I nimbly ran into the “couple” in the cool of their enjoyment. It was a hard decision to make, trust me. As much as I wanted to slap Ella, my anger buoyed up to brandish him with a slap.
As he struggled to be let loose, I kept yelling furiously back at him “Stupid man, shameless man! You are busy looking for married woman to remarry them. God punish you!” I cussed him endlessly.
As I turned to Ella, I wasn’t even afforded the luxury of respect befitting of a nodding acquaintance. Before I could mutter anything, Ella responded sharply with a slap in my face and somehow, maybe by impulsive, she let out the remains of her wine in the mug right into my clothes. She told me never to ruin her life as I already did. She insulted me in public glare and pushed me out of her way as she made for her revolutionary lover who had been dragged out by the security officers in there. I cupped my face in shame. Ella exposed me to public odium discourteously. As I managed to leave the scene with the tinges of ego left in me, the exasperated security officers came to expunge me from the hall. They took turns to drag me out and by this time, it seemed as though I were the villain. People looked at me as I walked past them with mortification written on their faces. I overheard a bevy of ladies sitting round a table prattling in hushed tones, “Shameless man” one called out with a look that dramatized more of hatred than even disappointment.
As of the time I came out of the hall, Ella had left for home. Perhaps, with the man. I still had no clue as to her whereabouts but this time, I was already too angry to continue in search for her. ‘That was bullshit’, I convinced myself. I concluded that she was a lost cause. I’ve never been that embarrassed by the same person I love. I regretted not having to slap her first before reconciling my anger for the man with an equally thunderous slap. I was in pains. My ego was squashed like mesh for the toothless and the suckers to feed on. That night, I slept like an injured beast. I kept grunting intermittently, spreading my legs and throwing my face to both sides of the bed in pain, anguish and desolation. I woke up to a firm resolution that I would train Opeyemi without her mother. There’s no way you can hold onto something that wants to go. You can only love what you got while you got it.
One evening, I sauntered into the house after boozing heavily on my way home. The vehicle was a mess; I dribbled into mud and kept blaring the horns inconsequentially. When I finally alighted from my car after managing to pass through the gate, I staggered out and fell to the ground, puking inordinately. I was as pissed as a newt; heavily drunk. With the help of my gateman and my maid, I was able to find my way into the house. Much to my surprise, I entered the house to find Ella and my daughter in my sitting room. With a worn out make up and a discomfited mien, it was obvious they had been waiting for my return for a long time. She could tell effortlessly that my lifestyle had been deeply buffeted by her abrupt departure and consequential disregard in the pub the other day. What she saw in my eyes were shards of pain and anguish and rage.
Meanwhile, I was unable to tell that Ella and my daughter were the persons right before me. Tipsily, I said hello to them. I could bet I mistook them for maids that night. I lay on my bed alone. Actually I needed it. The bed was sizeable yet my persistent turns on the bed coupled with a trail of pathetic snores required that had the entire bed to myself. I only woke up to see that Ella had returned.
I woke up in the morning and realised that the house was quieter than it was when I staggered into the house with fuzzy understanding indicative of tipsiness. I looked around and gathered that I had at one point ruffled my blanket and bedsheets. With whom, I had no idea. Perhaps alone. As I reached for the kitchen, I saw blood stains all over the floor. Oh my God! What have I done? He memories were flushing into my mind just as fast as they eluded me in the first place.
I remember now. I had had a fight last night with Ella who accused me of being irresponsible. I had hit her with the figurine I placed on two of the glass table in the side of my room. While she bled, I scurried off to sleep, totally unmindful of the harm I had done to her. Panicky, I cried out to my gateman who rushed down to help me with Ella into the car. I called my mother and narrated my ordeal as I drove to the hospital. I was ashamed of myself.
On getting to the hospital, I hurriedly brought her out of the vehicle and called the attention of the nurses around. I was still aghast how I had gotten into such a mess. Her heartbeat was faint and was constantly frightening. I spent hours in the hospital waiting for a positive response from the doctors who had already begun to effect treatment on her.
This entire mess was my undoing, I blamed. What is she dies? What will I tell Opeyemi? What will I tell her family? Who would have thought that just a single mistake would debilitate my life?
“Mr. Ade,” a voice cried out.
It was the doctor. He just came out of the ward Ella was dragged into for treatment. “Doctor, Doctor, How’s my wife?” I asked spontaneously. This time my voice was already incoherent given my previous wailings. While the doctor came out seeming to be in good fettle, he wasn’t exactly happy. As I asked about Ella, he flung his head to both sides of his temple in a sorrowful manner.
“Doctor did she make it?” I asked. He said nothing. He looked blue.
To be continued….
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