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Torn Apart (A True Life Story Of Love And Lust) - Literature - Nairaland

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Torn Apart (A True Life Story Of Love And Lust) by IAMMUIC: 10:57am On May 15, 2018
There was no one to wake me up today, at least with a cup of coffee, just as Frank normally does for the weekends he is around. For the stead, the crude blaring of the small clock jarred me out of my peaceful sleep. The sound was blaring. Unceasing. Crippling my thoughts. It was assaulting my ears. It gave me so much heat. I jolted up, to smash that snooze button as hard as I possibly could. Bed leverage was really big, so I tucked a bit, again- for some more five minutes or so. It’s funny how these five minutes are, but I bet they are always crucial for everyone. For those minutes you seem not to accept that morning has finally rolled in. It was another work day.

I didn’t want too much cleavage for the day- it was an official work day. Furthermore, it would keep those hungry male colleagues of mine at bay. I planted that pearl necklace from Frank around my neck. It served like an engagement ring. For the many times I had wanted to mess up, the necklace would always freak me out. I slipped into those purple kitten heels of mine. They set the tone for my official outfit. They had an optimal height, and I never would feel any ounce of foot pain. I have never sacrificed style for comfort, never.

I dashed to the mirror, and took inventory. Make up was quite minimal, simple and classic. I didn’t want any unwanted attention from those creepy guys. Just a sweep of mascara and a bougainvillea gloss on my lips gave my face that touch of glamor. I licked my bottom lips to give it a decent reddish- pink wet shine. I felt fantastic, patted my Chihuahua goodbye and fled off.

I strutted into the office a few minutes late. It made my breathing rapid and shallow. I felt my pulse pounding in my temples. There was some consciousness of guilt in my eyes, since everyone seemed to have already clicked with the day’s activities. Their hungry eyes fed on my body almost immediately. I deciphered a few whispers in the air. “She is killing today.” Those were from Jo and some of his friends. I seldom liked them. They had the money anyway, not like Frank.

I watched the boss do his routine checks, and when his eyes met mine, I salvaged my being late by smiling enigmatically at him like an idiot. He did not have an inkling of a hint, of the time I slept yesterday. He would have understood why I turned up late, just minutes after the stipulated time. I landed at my desk with a huge sigh of relief, because between the heels and my legs shaking, I was afraid I would trip. The burden of all those eyes was evidently heavy. I had a bothersome heap of files to attend to. I sat down to work on them. I wanted to finish them quite early and perhaps catch some fresh air somewhere else. I needed to breathe.

I was glued to the work that lay before me for some good amount of time. I think some thirty minutes rolled by. My neck needed a little of justice, so I flexed its muscles a little and stared blatantly ahead. I hear them crunching heavily. They have already lodged early complaints about tiredness. My working desk is apparently opposite that of Jo. Some muscles at the corner of my eyes twitched involuntarily, compelling my eyes to wander about for a moment. I bump into his eyes, and notice that he hasn’t been working. He has been staring at me the whole of this time, his hands clasped tightly in front of his stomach, fingers interwoven. I felt a tinge of fear creep into my bones like a cancer.

What was he looking at? The question fell almost immediately. In a tense mood, I drop my eyes down to my legs. I can’t tell if that is the fascinating sight for him. All I can tell is that my legs were kind of growing apart. I grasp them together in utter fight. He might have seen what he saw, holy crap! I felt ashamed and bad. But then I drop back to my work to quell the embarrassment. I pretend as if everything is at its normality, and that he saw nothing. I mean for real, only a man with his head on his ass would feed on such a sight for a lengthy time.

The incessant vibration of my phone tears through the embarrassment, like a sledge hammer. I thought I felt in love with it, so much. It lifts me up, and I make a beeline for it. I already have the guesses of whom that may be- my Frank. We hadn’t done our “Morning -have a good day- I love you” today. I don’t know why. He had always given hints- my ego. Well today, I couldn’t take my ego and shove it in some cupboard somewhere else. Let’s wait and see who will win the ego game. Certainly, anybody who would text first would have gracefully lost the game.

The sender of that text message, which compelled my poor phone into vibration, spiraled terror inside me. It shook me thunderously. It was Jo. I mean, how could someone seated opposite me text me, yet he could pass the message directly through his teeth. Perhaps it was something intimate that he wanted to tell me. Something he couldn’t loudly say it. And what was that? That I should learn sitting manners? That ladies sit with their legs together, no matter what? I fidgeted a bit, dawdling on what to do. I finally touched at the text message, trembling, awaiting the biggest embarrassment so far, in my life.

“Hi. You look good today.”

I was petrified at his comments. I mean, which good? Down there? What you saw? Which good?

I wanted to do a reply, just as raw as my thoughts were, but then I did this other one.

“Hi. Thanks.” The reply is so full of pretense, like he saw nothing.

I’m so tense. My bones have a malignant cancer of fear. I’m fidgeting, and growing impatient. There is some heat on my fingertips, they want to touch the goddamn phone. And so imbued with impatience, before he even replies, I send another text message. I needed tranquility in my mind.

“I have a lot of work, get yourself busy.” The crude reply flew, almost as immediately as his came. I needed to be humble, I knew, now that he had seen something I didn’t want him to tell me and probably laugh at me. I cared less.

“A drink in the evening? Tea, juice, coffee?” His reply came ironically sweet. He didn’t mention a damn thing about that something which he saw, gracious heavens!

“Let me finish work, will see.” The habit of, we girls not wanting to show that we cheaply fall into anything- yet we do, shimmered brightly in that reply.

Hours of work rolled by, as I anxiously worked on the files to the last bit. Meanwhile, Jo was playing it cool, like he had told me nothing. He was pensive, and composed. You wouldn’t decipher any crap in his mind. Anyway, I looked at him, moronically. And I started figuring out nonsense. He wasn’t that bad. He had good looks, but consolingly, not better than my Frank. He had that kind of beard I wanted. I had always wished Frank would grow that kind of beard. I wanted a moustache, a big one, which goes down along the side of his mouth, and then goes up the edge of his jaw, and then becomes his sideburns, and finally becomes his hair. One that gave a hairy kiss. Jo had that, Frank didn’t. And here Frank was, bathing in his ego. He hadn’t texted, he didn’t want to lose the game. His pride was sabotaging the whole thing, did he know that? That Jo was capitalizing on this?

Like hail on a glass plane, the drumming of my fingers was as relentless as it was loud. I kept bending my head, to carry my nose next to my armpits. I inhaled the smell from them, and digested it. It wasn’t that bad. At least there was some traces that I had worn some perfume early in the morning. It suited the evening beverage with Jo but still I hadn’t said yes to him. I was still playing some hard ball. “I wasn’t cheap.”

“Are you done?” I gathered myself finally, and texted Jo. Right now he mattered. That text, obviously, meant a damn yes.

“In a few…”

I stole a glance at his place, and truly he was finishing up on something. Some few minutes or so we would be out. I glanced at the luminous digital clock nearby. And then a second glance again. The second glance seemed to confirm that time was slowing down.

I was perplexed. I didn’t want to chew on my nails or lips, so I find myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek as I stroke at my neck, and felt the stupidly expensive pearl necklace. Right now it was kind of agitating. I slid it out of my body and dropped the jewelry into my bag. Phew! It was like emptying your bladder after a stinging urge to piss. I fished my diary from the bag and stared at it. I had written a lot of crap on it. What will be written on it by the time I retire to my bed tonight? Will I even sleep at my house?

“Hey… time to go." Jo muttered what I had been dreading, for a lifetime it seems.

We sneaked out of the workplace, in turns. We never wanted to be seen by any prying eyes. I had not the slightest idea as to how the evening was end...

To be continued...
Re: Torn Apart (A True Life Story Of Love And Lust) by Nobody: 11:15am On May 15, 2018
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