Ene
I sat on the floor by the door, crying softly, unable to pick myself up from where I had fallen from Harry's shove.
I had refused to move out of his way and he had pushed me roughly aside before storming out the door, obviously in haste to meet up with his mistress.
As I wept, my mind wandered to the early days of our relationship. Remembering how Harry was then, his love for me, his support and everything made me weep more.
Bitter tears of sorrow and anguish. At the change in him and his refusal to listen to wise counsel.
Even his mother, on a recent visit had spoken to him sternly about his behaviour and attitude to me.
"Ene has been there for you when you were nothing; when you were still coming up," said Harry's mother. "Now that you're becoming somebody, she's suddenly not good enough. You treat her badly. That's not good at all. I didn't bring you up to treat women shabbily.
"Love and treat her with respect because she loves you and wants the best for you. Don't do anything that will make you lose her because you'll regret it!"
But did he listen? No!
'He has even become worse. Now, he flaunts his other women in my face. As if to deliberately hurt me, punish me for what I don't know...' I mumbled to myself amidst my tears, sniffing and wiping my eyes with my hand.
Then, dragging myself off the floor, I walked to the bathroom to take a shower.
***
His behaviour grew worse. One day, a Saturday, I returned from seeing off a friend, Yetunde who had come visiting, when Harry called.
He wanted me to prepare some food, fried rice with chicken as he was coming home with a guest.
"But Harry, you should have told me earlier so I can get the ingredients from the market," I protested.
He said since he would not be home till evening, there was still time to do the shopping.
"There's some money in the drawer by the bed. Use it to get whatever you need. Will be home from six," he said.
I was in the kitchen preparing the food when Harry arrived. With him was a lady I had never seen before.
Thinking she was a relative, I welcomed her warmly.
"What can I get you to drink?" I asked solicitously.
"Just water," she responded coolly.
After we had eaten, they sat in the living room chatting and laughing while I was in the kitchen cleaning up.
'Lazy thing. She can't even help with the dishes,' I thought grumpily.
Just then, Harry entered the kitchen. He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water.
"Tilda's spending the night so get the guest room ready," he instructed, before drinking from the bottle.
Tilda.
The name sounded familiar. Was it the same girl that called Harry sometime ago and was very rude on the phone? It couldn't be! Harry would not go that far- bringing his girlfriends home!
Or could he?
As he was about to leave the kitchen, I said casually:
"You didn't even introduce our guest. Is she one of your relatives I don't know?"
His answer was vague.
"She's a friend."
He returned to the sitting room while I stood by the sink, staring at the dirty dishes, wondering what was going on. If it was the same Tilda, that meant one thing- Harry had taken his philandering to another level!
I decided to be vigilant and keep an eye on them.
By ten, the lady said she wanted to take a bath so I showed her to her room. I decided to turn in too, telling Harry who was watching a football game on TV:
"Honey, I feel tired. Am going to bed. Coming?" I said, looking intently at him.
"Not yet. Will join you later."
In our bedroom, I prepared for bed. I took a bath then put on a nightie and got into bed.
But not to sleep. I stayed awake, straining my ears for any sound emanating from the parlour. Apart from the sounds of the game on the television that wafted to the bedroom, all was silent.
Sometime later, Harry entered the room. He was in the bathroom for a while then he came out.
"Ene!" he called.
Silence.
Thinking I was fast asleep, he went out of the room.
I waited for a while then got out of bed and left the room. The sitting room was empty with the Tv on.
Harry was no where in sight.
"Where could he have gone this night?" I said to myself.
Then I heard sounds coming from the direction of the guest room. I stood by the door of the room, my hand on the doorknob.
Then I froze at the sounds I was hearing- moans and groans like someone in the throes of passion...
What next? Join us for more of her story tomorrow! Goodnight!
To Be Continued...
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