OVER THE RED LINE TWO;THE MEETING:PART 3
She took some days off work to spend more time with me; while I intensified my effort to get her a new job. The combination of my network and her sound educational background paid off, I eventually got her a job through a friend. Although the salary was slightly below what we had expected, it was enough to convince her to accept the offer.
We are close to the inevitable end of making our love affair known if we must get married, but are we prepared for the wrath of society, culture and religion? I felt chills and Goosebumps as this thought flashed through my mind.
She informed her husband, and he promised to visit as soon as she was settled in.
Scheduled to resume work in a few days, I departed early. My mind fully engaged with all that I must put in place before she joined me the following week. When I got home, I contacted my estate agent to get her a befitting apartment; once secured, I sent her the address to settle down once she got into town.
One week seemed near, yet felt far. She arrived. Glad to finally have her in town after a brief but torturous wait, although we were swamped within the week, she, trying to adapt to her new job and environment while mine was hectic. We spoke most times on the phone or via text.
Friday! Thank God it’s Friday. Finally, it was time to unwind after a week of work pressure, we watched movies at the cinema and ended at a hangout spot- not a formal restaurant, but an open space utilised every evening for socialising for its serenity and the perfect view of the lagoon. The cool breeze, well-spiced barbecue, music and alcohol set our emotions raging, with our passion acting as the catalyst. I whispered in her ear, “follow me!”
We both stood and walked holding hands towards my tinted SUV. The carpark faintly lighted by the rays from the moon. We got in the back, collapsed the seat, and as though she read my mind or desperately wanting it too, in seconds we were kissing, and all over each other; we were beasts in human form, two lovers gone insane. Insatiable and like famished predators, we continued in this Wolverine passion, unabated, unable to get enough, ending with a climax that felt better than the last time; with her, it is always better than the last time.
There, we laid as two transformed individuals, exhausted and literarily unable to recognise ourselves from one moment of passion to the next.
I felt a liquid sensation on my chest and touched her face to realise it was tears flowing from her eyes.
“Why?” I asked.
She said she was pouring the emptiness of her soul, knowing something as beautiful would hurt people when revealed. She had several missed calls from her husband, she couldn’t take them because the environ was noisy and she didn’t want him to get suspicious since it was late.
It was already 11:58 pm, too late to take her home, we agreed to spend the night at my place and to engage the services of a cab to take her home in the morning. As soon as we got in, she gestured that I stay silent and placed a phone call to her husband. He finally answered after several rings. She apologised for just returning his calls, giving the excuse that her phone was on silent mode because she was in a meeting which spilled over into the night and didn’t realise it was ringing. She said that she had gotten home exhausted and slept off, only to wake to his numerous calls. He replied saying that he could barely talk as he was exhausted from a hectic day; tired himself, he promised to speak with her in the morning.
She got home before noon on Saturday, and as soon as she opened the door, she saw a paper that had been slipped under the door. All sorts of thoughts went through her mind in a second as she wondered who could have dropped the note. My neighbour? Colleague? Husband? Not my husband, he was too calm when we spoke last night.
All these unanswered questions prevailed as she scrambled to read the content of the note.
“Ebi, I had my suspicion but questioned my sanity to ever doubt your faithfulness. I struggled with various unanswered questions but couldn’t dare to confront you because I would not have been able to stand the shame of looking at you if I was wrong. So, I accepted your proposal of a better-paid job in another state without objection, knowing you were going to be free and complacent, with time revealing the truth. I felt I should pay you a surprise visit to enable us to spend the weekend together only to be stranded outside your apartment. I arrived between 6 and 7 pm, at a time you were supposed to have returned from work, but since I did not meet you, I decided to reveal the surprise over the phone. I made several calls, but you did not answer. When you called to explain your reason for not answering your phone I was right in front of the door to your apartment. Stunned, because your phone call painted a picture different from the reality. I left your apartment a broken man, I deserve to know where you spent the night, and I deserve answers to the questionable behaviour you have exhibited lately. ”
The note dropped to the floor as she trembled in shock and disbelief. I was surprised to see her back so soon, crying and looking overwhelmed. She gave the note to me without a word, my eyes wide open as I read.
“I thought as much,” I said, “why did I not think? His consent came too easy, it was all a trap, I should have seen it coming.”
The weeks and months that followed were plagued with incessant nightmares – both our parents, churches, friends and colleagues were disappointed in the fact that we were involved in such; online news agencies, blog and social media escalated the unfortunate news. The pain of betrayal and scars from her unfaithfulness made divorce inevitable.
Ebi and I relocated to Australia, paving the way for some respite and an atmosphere for a fresh start. We have been living here for four years. Ebi’s ex remarried and has a child now, but refused her peace overtures on various occasion to pacify him. Although our relationship with Ebi’s parents has improved over the years, we are yet to have a child of ours.
As we sat staring at the flawless lawn in our house, I reflected on if our childlessness was the price we must pay for this love that blossomed without ceasing. Or was the might of religion and culture coming against us for our treachery? Whatever is the case, I only empathise with those we hurt and hope for a total healing experience for them, but I have no regret, and Ebi feels the same way too. What we have is more profound than those watching from afar seem to perceive, and we don’t blame them, it is only natural. She says that I am a man worthy of the war, I say that she is a woman without which my world would have been empty. This is our endless love, one that continues to be recharged by electricity that never fails, unleashing passion and desires that make me understand Romeo and Juliet better than just reading about them. I hope someday the world will also talk about us, with less emphasise on our wrong and dwell on how true love such as ours can make the world a better place.