I was rushed to hospital by my loving husband. It so happened because my sickness had worsened, and he was the cause: that he woke me up when I was beginning to fall asleep and that I was not supposed to be standing up talking to him as the sedatives in the pain relievers were too powerful for such stunts and he had to save me from whatever. And he felt so bad. I knew the cause. I was not in the least sick. In fact, I thought him a fool as he negotiated those bends in a hurry with rare monologue. He was confused: talking to me, talking to himself, talking to God and insulting taxi drivers all along. At a point, I nearly asked him to slow down, but I kept my calm until we got to the hospital. As they brought forth the stretcher to stretcher me away, I could not hold it any longer. I jut up, pretending I did not know what was happening.
Evans sensed danger and came back to the kitchen. He cleared after us. He took my bra and undies away because there was nowhere in the kitchen to hide them. When he finished, he locked the doors with his spare keys and left. He took my phone which I had left on the kitchen sink and deleted all our chats and conversation before depositing it on the dining table. We were only lucky that the children were spending the mid-term break with their grandparents and could be coming back during the weekend. A job well done. I gave him a wild present for that.
My husband was surprised to learn he drove me to hospital without my underwear. He registered his bewilderment but the woman’s tricks worked better. I played the top dog. I told him I fell asleep after having my bath so… He agreed with me but I knew he did not believe that explanation. Then he asked who could have turned off the lights he saw in the kitchen when he…. I offered a one-off explanation. It’s my sister who lived nearby. She in fact had our spare key. We intentionally left the key with her in case the children misplaced theirs on their way from school. I had to call my sister to coach her. She suspected a foul play but could not betray me. Then my husband’s next question which I was never able to answer. He claimed to have seen Timberland™ footwear prints on the kitchen titles and they crisscrossed in a crazy way before edging out through the front door. I then suggested my sister. But I realized I was making sense, not even to my own self so I shut up. I told him perhaps it was a spirit that came to the house after we had left and that it was good he took me out of the house earlier. He believed me although he knew I was telling a conscious lie. I suggested we changed all door locks, so we did. I went to buy the locks so I made spare keys that got to Evans, long before the locks were changed.
The spark returned to my marriage life after we had left hospital. I made arrangements to see the counselor because as it stood, there was nothing medically wrong with me. I confided in the counsellor how I had been starved and she urgently booked a session with my husband. The feminine connection couldn’t have worked against me. We were both told to resume love making and we did.
Strangely, I found myself pregnant at the end of that month. The issue now was who could be responsible. Something told me never to tell Evans and if he found out, he would dismiss himself but I failed to keep to my own promise. The temptation was great.
James married me a virgin, so Evans was the only point of comparison I had. In fact he had more verve, strength, ruthless punches and slaps, a longer reach, and an abusive way of playing his game. He was rough in action and that’s what I became addicted to. We were more than compatible; in fact, we gelled.
James became not only a bore and a mere responsibility but a lesson on tolerance, yet in his holy soul, he was being gentle to his wife. I could not instruct him to do otherwise. So the two men watered the seed whose sower I was not certain about. Sometimes, when I engaged James on the farm or when he opted to water the plant, I had to imagine Evans in that role before anything meaningful could occur. I knew I was courting trouble.
It all went this way until one wet evening when the unfortunate nearly happened.