He called her on phone to come to the house (his house) and she went right away. On her arrival, she noticed the contorted look on his face – a tight, mawkish frown dotting his blank, expressionless dark face. Feeling disturbed by this, she set about to enquire about what was going on. He said nothing, still frowning. “Have you eaten? What happened during the day?”, she started again, her arm wrapped around his broad shoulders. He shook his head and said nothing. She felt so bad and started another session of personal investigations, “What did I do? Did I offend you? Am I not supposed to come? But you called me now, talk to me! You know when you are not happy, I’m not happy and I can’t leave you this way. You have not said a word since I came.”
Angered by his proud silence she rose up, clutching her hand bag with her and quietly announced that she was leaving. This did the trick, or so it seemed. He said to her with a very soft and light voice, “Please don’t go”. He told her about how tired he was and how hectic the day had been with him and everything. Her sense of sympathy overpowering her as she listened, she nodded in pity and settled down to the task of preparing food for him (he was too tired to do that, she thought as she inspected the needed condiments). She made water for him to take his bath and after that he felt alright and they were both smiling and talking. They talked about many things, laughing as they did, especially when he remarked that when God made her, He took more time than He did other women because of him. Then the laughter reduced to a lull and he paused, his eyes running themselves seductively on her figure eight shape before finally locking up in a tensed look.
“Stop looking at me like that” she protested weakly and smiled uneasily. He was unfazed, thereby drawing her attention more than before. He drew her close to himself and whispered into her ears that she was the most beautiful girl he has ever seen and that he loved her so much. This felt so good to hear in her ears.
He continued “my love for you is higher than the mountains, brighter than the stars”. This weakened her and she turned away, her eyes glistening with a false sense of demureness. He had never said anything like that to her before and it sounded so new, so real but somehow strange. He pulled her closer and planted some hungry kisses on her forehead. Possessed by a thick haze of lust, he began to unbutton his shirt and had tug at her brown bra when she recoiled back in sheer disgust.
“Stop!” she said. The kisses were enough for that moment, she said, her hands folded across her bra level.
“Baby do you love me? If you love me prove it, let’s just do this. I promise it’s not going to hurt you, and you know I’ll never do anything to hurt you”, he pleaded, his faux voice pretentiously soft and calm. “Besides you know we are going to be patterns forever”.
It was too good to be true, she thought. But he proved too smart for her to handle as he moved closer and ran his hands all over her again. The burning sensation was irresistible, having never had anything close to what was going on inside her now as his crispy palm worked itself up and down her thigh, sending sharp needles of pain down her spines. And so when he pulled down her pant and tore off her bra in that animalistic haste to eat her body up, she didn’t resist.
That night she had a man inside her for the first time. After the experience that night, the sex thing became partially a routine for them. Then the period of pretentious love expired. He had seen it all, had it all and there just was no longer something to keep him in the relationship. He began to manifest his true colours – cold, harsh, rash, a brute and a violent pig.
If she wants to stay on, fine. If not, the door is open. He no longer cared. After all, he had gotten what he wanted, so he could move on. He had used her.
