SYNOPSIS

Love, undoubtedly, is a beautiful thing. And it’s more beautiful when one falls in love with the right person.
Fred and Rachael meet at the university. They both become friends, and over time fall in love with each other. Rachael is Fred’s first love. And as such he treats her like the queen he truly believes she is.
While the couple is looking forward to getting married an unexpected twist occurs. Fred is ruthlessly betrayed by his sweetheart. He is left totally heartbroken. But the story doesn’t end there. Rachael’s despicable action soon paves way for dire consequences. In the end it is a sour mix of sorrow, regret and, ultimately, death.

CHAPTER 1

BEFORE I BEGIN my story I’d like to say a few words about love. No doubt, it’s a beautiful thing. And yes, being in love with someone who sincerely reciprocates it is nothing short of divine.
So, when you do find true love, hold it dearly, nurture it carefully, and, more importantly, treat it with the respect it deserves.
It is true that love hurts. But don’t let us forget...it also heals.
Here is my story…
I was reliable informed, by my parents, that I came into this world on a rainy Monday night, in the month of July, in the late 70’s. My mother had just finished eating dinner, and was about to drink a glass of water, when she felt some contractions in her stomach. After the last one her water broke.
My father, along with a few neighbours, promptly rushed her to a hospital, which was fortunately nearby. Within thirty minutes of arriving at the medical centre my mother gave birth to me.
My name is Fredrick Etoa. But you, like everyone does, can simply call me Fred. The only exception to this name calling is my mother. She calls me Freddie. I know it sounds girlish. But, hey, she’s my mother, okay?
I’m the last child in a family of five: my parents, and two older siblings – a boy and a girl. My parents are Christians. But my mother is more devout than my father. Naturally we, the kids, were raised with sound Christian morals. We were good kids. And I believe we still are.
My parents were traders. They owned two shops at Tabade Market – located at Yaba – in Lagos State, where they sold curtain materials. They were well-to-do, and this reflected in my siblings and I being well catered for.
Like I said earlier, we were properly brought up – in addition to the fact that the three of us were born into a church, firmly grounded in the doctrine of holiness.
As a good kid I did my best not to be enslaved by any vice. Oh, no, don’t get me wrong. I said I was a good kid. I never said I was a perfect one.
Now, I’m the precocious type. I’ve always being that way from childhood. I like discovering new stuff. For instance, at the age of seven, while most of my mates were still busy cuddling up to their toys I already knew a thing or two about sex. Thanks to Helen – the house help we had back then. I believed she really liked me. So I guessed that was why she usually gave me full access to handle her intimate parts anytime we were both alone together.
She was twenty-one at this time. She encouraged me, citing reasons I can’t quite remember, to engage in sex as early and as often as possible.
I also guessed that contributed to why I had my first sexual encounter with a lady who was eleven years my senior. I was fifteen then. I won’t bore you with the details of how that went. But I can tell you, for sure, that the entire body chemistry was, for me, a rather noxious experience.
For my partner, however, it was thorough bliss as she wildly, like some depraved maniac, milked every drop of pleasure she could get from me. She was quite hell bent on solely satisfying herself – without the slightest regard for my well being, internally or otherwise.
Sadly, she was one of those women who are moved more by their bodies than by their brains – and definitely not my type. Consequently I broke up with her – a break up that was easy since I felt no ounce of love for her.
Anyway let’s move on. Over the years, as I grew older, I had a couple of girlfriends – but no one special. And if you must know, I, with the exception of the lady I mentioned earlier, didn’t have carnal knowledge of any of them – even though almost all of them wanted me to water the entire perimeter of their private gardens. But, truthfully, I wasn’t really interested in sex. My ‘first time’ chiefly took place out of unbridled curiosity; I, acting on the seed already planted in my mind by Helen, wanted to know how the experience felt like, nothing more. And like you already know, it wasn’t fun for me at all.
Now, I didn’t let myself to fall in love with any girl because of a promise I had made to myself, when I was just nine years old. Then, I stated that the only woman I would ever fall in love with – after I must have graduated from the university and secured a good job – would be the one I’d marry.
However, like a coin, there are usually two sides to a promise. It’s either you keep it, or you break it. As it turned out...I broke mine.



CHAPTER 2

TEACHING IS AN integral part of who I am. I started doing it when I was in primary four. However, I began earning some money from it when I got to senior secondary two. I worked, part time, as a teacher for a Home Tutor Agency. I taught various subjects at both the primary and secondary school levels; and I continued with the job while I was at the university. By the way, I’m a graduate of Quantity Surveying from the University of Lagos.
I met Rachael for the very first time during a teaching session. That particular day I had gone to teach the fresh students in my department. I was in year four at this time. These students, who had just tasted a few weeks of the first semester, were grappling with some of their courses – especially the core ones. This, of course, is not uncommon with Jambites.
In my usual manner, and just as I had done (and was still doing at the time) to the students who came before them, I went and taught the year-one students, severally.
So, on the day in question, after lecturing them on one of their core courses, I asked if there were questions. I always encouraged my students, in general, not to be shy or scared of asking questions – no matter how dumb they might look or sound.
None of the new intakes indicated with either hand. I was about to ask if they clearly understood what they’d learned when a certain girl, seated almost at the back of the class, indicated with her right hand and stood up to ask her question.
I observed she was remarkably beautiful and blessed with a curvaceous body; and she was a strange face, because I knew all the students in my department by face – and most of them by name.
The gorgeous girl asked a question she wouldn’t have if she had attended one of the previous lectures I’d had with her course mates. She explained to me that she joined the class late; in fact, she was yet to commence her registration as a bona fide student of the university.
Well, I answered her question satisfactorily. Her colleagues had none. So I dropped the marker I was writing with on a table. The students thanked me graciously for the lecture, and arranged for my next one with them.
My stomach growled with hunger as I left their classroom.
________

Once outside, I headed for one of the school’s cafeterias for lunch. I had taken just a few steps when someone ran up to me. It was the attractive year-one girl. She apologised for stopping me in my tracks. I told her not to worry about it – since I was already used to having students stop me on the way all the time, to ask me one thing or another – either relating to their courses or something else.
I have to admit here that I was quite popular in school. A lot of students, as well as lecturers, in my faculty and others, knew me. This was because I had one of the best results in the school. In fact, I was second place on that particular list. And with the way things were going academically there was no doubt that I would finish as number one, which I eventually did.
So Rachael (she introduced herself) wanted a personal favour. She appealed earnestly to me to lecture her, privately, as she desperately wanted to catch up with her course mates. She was almost on her knees as she unfurled this request. Without giving it a second thought, the teacher in me agreed. After all, nothing gladdens the heart of a good teacher like a student who is sincerely willing to learn. We fixed a day and time for the first lecture.
And that was how it all began. Within a short time our relationship advanced from teacher and student to being good friends. She told me about herself, her interests, her family and other things. I did the same. We were both from the same state, and our villages were merely thirty minutes apart.
Somewhere along the line I discovered, and much to my astonishment, that I always wanted to be with Rachael. I noticed I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I just didn’t understand it. Am I falling in love with her? I thought severally. I wasn’t certain, initially. However, one thing, which was crystal clear, was that whenever I was with her I felt whole. She really filled an emptiness I had been feeling, for years, on the inside.
At a point, however, I became certain of the fact that I was totally in love with Rachael. Of course, at first, I didn’t tell her. I didn’t know if she felt the same way. I knew she really liked me; but did she love me, or was she in love with me? I wasn’t sure.
I decided to confide in my close friends. Their suggestion was simple. They wanted me to tell Rachael how I felt about her. They were quite happy for me; happy that for the first time in the four years they’d known me I was in love with a girl.
They were aware of the sizeable number of the female folk (mostly in my department) who flocked around me to teach them one course or another. Girls from my faculty, as well as from other faculties, also came to me to teach them Mathematics and English Language, which were courses across the board.
Naturally some of these girls wanted something that went beyond teaching; they desired us to share a deeper, tender friendship. A few bold ones wanted us to be friends with benefits...with promises of regular, mind-blowing sex. One of them even told me that a guy like me wasn’t created for just one woman. But, on the overall, I believed these girls were all drawn by my popularity and high academic intelligence. I didn’t blame them. Neither did I fool around with any of them.
So, against the risk of being rejected I followed my friends’ suggestion.
_______

On a certain Saturday afternoon I took Rachael out for lunch. It was at a popular fast-food restaurant. There, after our meals, I poured out my heart to her. She listened attentively, with a rather amused expression.
When I was done with the love speech she smiled – she had a bewitching smile – and said, “Fred, you don’t know just how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say everything you just did. Honestly, baby, I fell in love with you the very first day I set eyes on you…while you were teaching in our class. And since then I’ve been having a lot of sleepless nights… just thinking about you. Fred, dear, I can’t wait to be your sweetheart.”
No doubt I was greatly relieved...

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let me be the first to comment.This is a promising story oo and I can't read it alone..Adesina 12,queenite where are thou?

This will turn out great,hopefully.Following

Finally, a story I think I can follow, please don't make me run away with too much suspense Abeg. #Anticipating