I walked slowly towards Yemi, the bedsheet draped around my body. He did not turn to acknowledge my presence, but I was sure he knew I was behind him. He stood facing the window.
"Why our bed?" he asked.
I could not say anything. I had to ask myself that same question. Why did I defile our marital bed? I wanted to speak, but the words would not come out clearly. Yemi was patient and kind. How could I blow that up? Osas was nothing like Yemi. He was just good for sex. Today I got caught, and from that moment things would never be the same.
"I don't know what I was thinking," I said finally. "There is clearly no excuse for what happened in there."
I had to own it. It was not fair for him to suffer emotionally for my infidelity. He had given me everything, including the assurance of a healthy relationship. He did not turn to look at me. He stared out of the window. It hurt to know that someone who could so easily look me in the eye now avoided mine.
He took a deep breath.
"We are done," he said finally.
"What? What do you mean by we are done? Let us talk about this please," I pleaded. The look in his eyes frightened me. I had never seen him like this before. It was my fault. All of it was my fault. I should not have encouraged the flirting with Osas from the very beginning.
"There is nothing to talk about at this point, Rose. You made the bed, so lie on it," Yemi said firmly.
"Yemi, please hear what I have to say." I did not want things to end like this. How was I going to face my family? My friends?
"I am not interested in anything you have to say. Do you know how painful it is to watch my wife enjoying sexual pleasure with another man in our bed? Do you?" His voice rose. "You just messed with my head. The image is still playing in my mind while I am standing here staring at you. Get out of my sight. Just go."
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I deserved every word.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," I said.
He turned and looked at me. He had a smirk on his face. Then he burst out laughing.
"You are a joke," Yemi said.
He walked past me and went up the stairs. I followed him like a puppy. He went into the walk-in closet and pulled out a suitcase.
He pulled shirts from the hangers. He opened the drawer and took out jeans. Then he pulled the Louis Vuitton suitcase from the corner, opened it, and packed everything in with quiet, deliberate movements. No rage. No drama. Just a man who had already made a decision.
"You are leaving," I said, realizing what was happening.
"Yeah. I need to be away from you. You are lucky I didn't get my pistol. I would have shot your boyfriend and then shot you point blank."
Was adultery worth murder?
"You have it in mind to kill me?" I said slowly.
He ignored me and continued packing. A few minutes later he placed the suitcase on the bed and zipped it up.
"You put that thought in me. The pain of watching another man have sex with you is enough to have you killed."
He walked to the door. I did not know what to say. I stood in the walk-in closet surrounded by his things — the things he was not taking — and listened to his footsteps on the stairs.
Then the front door closed.
How It Started — The Elevator
Running into Osas after years of no contact was a curse dressed as coincidence.
Osas had been my guilty pleasure, but nothing good was ever going to come out of our encounters. The last time we saw each other it ended badly. He had cheated again for the umpteenth time and refused to take responsibility or apologise. I accepted my loss and moved on. Any woman with common sense would have left the first time it happened. I suppose my common sense was elsewhere.
I was at Glass House — a tall building with over a hundred floors — meeting a colleague for dinner. I walked towards the elevators. Three people stood ahead of me: a young woman with her eyes on her phone screen, and a couple, the woman visibly pregnant, the man standing beside her with his arm around her, rubbing her back gently. I had craved that kind of love from a man for a long time. Until Yemi.
Yemi was the best thing that had happened to me in years.
We waited for the elevator. One of the other doors opened and a woman in yellow shorts walked out. The next person to come out was a familiar face.
Osas.
I stopped dead in my tracks. If there was ever a day to look good, it was that day. I had on a red dress and white Nine West pumps. My makeup was well done. I had pulled my hair into a high bun — the hair he used to pull during sex. He looked good. Beard groomed, fresh haircut, brown pants, white long-sleeved shirt.
His eyes found mine immediately.
"Hey," he said. I nodded. He walked towards me. I could smell his cologne — the familiar scent pulling at something I had worked hard to bury. I took a step back without thinking. He noticed.
"I am not going to bite you. Why are you stepping back?" he asked, walking closer.
I was losing my defenses. My body remembered everything my mind had tried to forget.
That was where it started. Not with a decision. With a familiar smell and a step I should not have let him close.
Now Yemi was gone and the suitcase was on the bed and I was sitting in a walk-in closet that still smelled like the man I had destroyed.