fiction relationship

THIS IS NOT WHAT I MARRIED.

Bimpe walked me to my black Lexus, hitting her enormous hips against mine as we swayed our locked fingers back and forth. She chuckled and began to run her hands against my muscles and I felt an electric surge run pass my veins. For a second I wondered how God could create something so perfect, so beautiful.

I cast a quick glance at her perfectly curved lips, remembering how I had sat on the hard floor of the guest room the previous week with my pencil and drawing paper carving out in splendid details, her round chubby face.

When we drew close to the car, I rested my hands on her waist while her hands were wrapped around my neck and her eyes boring into mine. She smiled. I sighed deeply, wishing I could take her to bed again and feel her vibrate beneath me. But I had to go. The cat was gradually being let out of the bag and two weeks ago, the Pastor had asked if anything was going on between us. I had simply shook my head. He warned me to be careful especially now that Bimpe was vulnerable having recently lost her husband to cancer and that if he heard any complaints again, he would remove me from my position as the choirmaster.

I vowed to stay away but the thoughts of Bimpe’s contours and succulence drew me to her apartment every weekend after she dropped her daughter with her mother-in-law. Now as we stood, in silent admiration of each other, lust swept over me again. I bent down to kiss her.

“Mummy!”

I pulled away sharply. Bimpe’s five year old daughter was watching us. Something about her eyes told me she understood perfectly what was going on, and would reveal our hidden secret someday.

I stepped into my car, smiling at Bimpe as she waved me off. Now I had to go back to my wife-my boring partner, a woman I had once adored. I hissed in recollection of this woman whose sight once made me stare endlessly from behind the keyboard every Sunday morning. I had chased Kike with great vigor like a starving lion pursuing a robust antelope and my eyes had been shut to every allure in the church so I could give her my full attention and finally I got it after a beautiful proposal at the Palms Beach on a Saturday morning.

That day, Seyi, the church guitarist as well as four of my best choristers stood at attention ready to bring to birth the song we had rehearsed over and over. I swallowed hard when her slender self sauntered towards the swimming pool where I was standing, dressed in a red stunning gown and looking extremely beautiful. As she approached me, my heart leaped.

Would I survive her refusal to my proposal? My heart was thumping so hard I was afraid she could hear it.

I knelt before her and flipped the ring box opened and in a sonorous bass tone, I sang out the question, “Will you marry me?”. I waited.

She smiled revealing the wide gap between her front teeth and a dimple on her left cheek. She nodded her head and retrieved the glittering silver ring from the box. Immediately, my friends filed out and began their prepared musical rendition. The tears were already welling up in her eyes as she covered her mouth with her hands in surprise.

I expected her reaction and when they finished, I held her hands and said, “Thank you. I promise I’ll love you forever.”

Five months later, we exchanged vows. Two days after that, we arrived at Royal Suite for our honeymoon, I woke up long before she did, my hands on my chin, staring at her lovely eyes held by dark neatly curved lashes, and her full shaped eyebrows that stood out beautifully. My eyes swallowed her firm physique, the same body that had brought confusion to me from the first day I set my eyes on her. Thankfully she was a deep sleeper and so I softly touched her dark ebony skin and proceeded to pull her hair net, revealing her long straight hair that reached down to her shoulders.

By the end of that year, Kike had lost all the warmth and spark that drew me to her. Her glowing skin became dry, her eyes didn’t seem to have that thrilling effect on me again and I quickly began to notice fat bulging out from her sides especially after she lost our child. I was sick to my stomach at the mere sight of her and I shuddered in disgust every time she playfully held me.

One day as I watched her dress up, I noticed stretch marks on her thighs and I hurriedly jumped down from the bed and left the house. I returned at midnight after endlessly driving round town. When she asked me if I didn’t love her anymore, I said I didn’t know if I did. When she sought me out on the bed, I repelled and the times I would perform my sexual duties, it was more like rape than the enjoyment it was supposed to bring. I could hear her crying softly afterwards, her face turned to the wall but I didn’t seem to care. When Bimpe came into my life, I badly wanted out but I feared that I would be relieved of my position as the choirmaster.

As I sat behind the wheels, slowly moving with the traffic, listening to Michael Smith’s Run to you, I began to see my cruel, selfish and wicked nature. I saw God sit beside me laying out my impending doom for despising my wife with whom we have vowed under Him four years ago. Kike’s unappreciated effort to make me comfortable and happy became vivid for the first time. How could I be so heartless that for three years I never said ‘thank you’ to her for having my dresses ironed promptly and preparing my meals even on the days she was down with illness. I realized how much I had denied her love and attention and for the first time I saw this woman with a beautiful heart. My resilient wife who had stood by me when I lost my job, supporting me with her meager salary and never sparing me those encouraging words until I got a managerial job with a multinational.

“Oh God, I’m sorry.” I cried, hitting my hands on the steering. “I’m going to make my wrongs right.”

As the traffic cleared out, I drove speedily towards the wine store. My heart was racing by the time I pulled up in front of the shop. I dashed in, picked up our favourite, the same we had popped during our honeymoon, and dashed out, without stopping to collect my balance of 800 naira.

I am going to lay sprout on the ground and ask for her forgiveness and for the rest of my life I am never going to look at another woman. Tonight we will have a wonderful outdoor dinner. Whatever it would take, I am going to repay for all the wrongs I have done.

I parked my car outside the gate and rushed to my flat, rehearsing my words of forgiveness.

I entered. Everywhere was silent.

Baby where are you? I muttered.

I checked our room but didn’t find her there. I went to the kitchen. It was clean and sparkling but no sign of Kike.

For goodness sake, where could she be? I thought

I opened the wardrobe and found her clothes neatly folded. I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God, I uttered. I dialed her number. Her phone was on the bed.

“Kike!” I shouted. No response.

Or has she gone to report to the Pastor?

Now I was ready to confess and gladly step away from the position that I held in the church. I left the room hurriedly . As I turned the door knob leading to the entrance, a thought flashed swiftly through my mind. Suddenly I remembered that on several occasions I had found Kike cuddled up on the bathroom floor, panting softly after a period of long cries.

I turned towards the bathroom. If she was there, I would carry her in my arms and hold her there till she wakes up in surprise and then I’ll sing to her ears the depth of my undying love for her.

I opened the bathroom and behold there was Kike lying on the bathroom floor. I smiled and walk gently towards her, ready to pick her up.

I froze.

Kike’s eyes were opened and her tongue was out with foams all over her mouth. A small bottle lay beside her and some of the tablets were scattered on the floor. Beside her was a note. I picked it up, my hands shaking.

My dearest,
What you married isn’t sufficient for you anymore and therefore I see no reason for my existence. I hope you find lasting love in Bimpe. I can no longer bear this depression and pain. Good bye my husband
Kike.

I’m still standing by her grave, willing a miracle to happen and hoping my precious wife, Kike, will dust the sand off her body and say, ‘Sweet heart, I was only kidding. I wanted to know if you truly love me.’
************
I know what it means to be depressed and I have had those suicidal thoughts too but I beg of you, don’t commit that suicide.

Don’t pull the gun over your head.

Don’t take those pills.

It will only land you in hell where forever you will scream in pain and agony. No matter what you are going through at the moment and no matter how bad the pain hurts, there is always light at the end of the tunnel.

Jesus provides the peace and tranquil that your soul needs. Ask Him into your life today and watch Him transform you into a better and stronger person.

Stay strong, this difficult phase will surely pass.

A word for men: When at the point of choosing a spouse, you are consumed by a ‘what’-a beautiful face, well-shaped figure of eight, smooth fair skin, slender figure, large bust and thick hips, then get ready for the consequences because it will soon finish.

It is the ‘who’ that stays after a long time. If you seek the right ‘who’ which only God gives, marriage becomes an enjoyable experience. (Beauty is deceptive and charm is vain but a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised.)

My dear married men, hear God’s word again in Malachi 2: 14, 15

…She is thy companion and the wife of thy covenant….Therefore take heed to your Spirit and let none deal treacherously against the wife of thy covenant…

Ladies: Let that man chase you till eternity- with high sounding words and sweet tinkling statements- If God isn’t leading you his way, don’t you dare walk down the aisle with him.

PHOTO CREDIT: INTERNET

14 thoughts on “THIS IS NOT WHAT I MARRIED.”

  1. Hmmmmmm….. Well tailored, made so vivid, clearly painted and easily pictured, mind capturing, deeply insightful and fully lesson-embedded. At some point in the story line, I said within me, I hope king Solomon won't be decorated with a big red letter L as being a learner if you both stand to script some expressions.
    We married men have much to learn here and sincerely, I have. I enjoy my wife's look even till tomorrow despite that she wasn't the "Opeke" i vibrated "I do" to. She can't be so worse than the she I see in pregnancy. Yet I love her look sweetly. I think where men often get it wrong is being attracted solely by the curves and look of the damsel, not the real thing, perfect companionship she brings to the man's life. Thank you very much for this, dearest. I WILL, BECAUSE OF THIS, LOVE MY WIFE EVEN MORE……

  2. This is amazing, enthralling, envisioning, and mind-blowing. More grace…

    Lessons:
    No matter the situation, never think of suicide; it's a gateway to eternal damnation. Seek God's help.

    Watch out for the 'who' in a life partner and not the 'what'.

    God bless u!

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