http://www.frozenfirenaija..com.ng/

mRaRcH:
I can't find de right words 2 describe ur ingenuity... U had me glued n I must gv U a "thumbs up"... Cheers. Dnt 4get 2 mention me wen U strt de season 2.. #peace#

yessir. Thanks soo much

Hello my dear nairalanders, hope u all are good, just want to remind u of my photostory DEAR DIARY thats am currently updating on my blog now www.frozenfirenaija..com.ng u all can follow the story there and enjoy it till RHODA SEASON 2 is out. Thanks soo much for the love

Fidelismaria:
has Rhoda season two started yet @ frozenfirenaija

not yet o

cyber5:

---

Hello, try to change the theme of your blog to make it more mobile responsive and to also portray the purpose of the blog and a header image would be better.

okae, thanks. Noted

Thank you all for reading and following Rhoda and all ur comments I soo much appreciate. I'll mention u all in the beginning of the season 2. Right now am updating a photo story on my blog which is Dear Diary, it's the first story on my blog have been working on sha. I'll love u all to follow it on the blog please www.frozenfirenaija..com.ng
thanks soo much and thanks for the support. One love

Darmilollar:
As if it shouldnt finish,buh @ frozenfire pls mention me too wen u wanna start the second season

lol, I'll surely mention u

Rukkydelta:
Nice one Frozenfirenaija. I love the way you give suspense.
Please don't forget to mention me and my nl boo 'hefelove' in the season2 O

yes ma I will ma

Eniqurl:
Wow! Please mention me when u wahn start the second season

I will o

RoastedCorn:
nice one

thanks soo much sha turn ur roasted corn to pop corn before the next season of Rhoda

Olabantu:
Thanks for the twist

ooshey thanks for reading

bummybummy:
d suspense z jst too much, i tout her aunty z d one dat died before

lol thanks for reading sis
moisef I will mention u too ooo

itslyrix:


love ur writting skills...
full of suspense nd d way u bring d flash baks in is rili cool..
u re rili talented. u shld ve ur own blog.
keep up d gud work.

yea am working on my blog o am trying my best

Episode 70(b)
"You only live once" my sister had said at the funeral. My cousin, Tito had committed suicide the previous day. Tito was born prematurely and even though the doctors did their best to save the foetus, she suffered complications that led to serious medical conditions.
She had developed retinopathy of prematurity which was a eye disorder that caused abnormal development of blood vessels in the eye that displaces the retina away from its original position. She had gone through surgery several times but what was lost could never be regained. She ended up changing the lens of her glasses according to her opticians prescription.

Once Mother told me she lagged behind in school due to her impaired cognitive skills which explained why she had repeated several classes and finally graduated secondary school a week before her Nineteenth birthday.
Her age mates discriminated her because of her slow and incomparable reasoning. Something I believe was due to envy.
Tito was such a beauty.

At birth, the doctors didn't diagnose more than her immature respiratory system but as she grew up, her health became worse and she developed a chronic lung disease known as bronchupulmonary dysplasia which had continued to cause respiratory distress. She had fainted more than a dozen times due to insufficient oxygen and prolonged pausing of her breathing. It didn't get better.
Her Mother, my Aunt didn't make things better. She hated the problem child she had carried for seven months instead of nine, the disappointment who was supposed to live after her and inherit what she had laboured for as a single Mother, the very beautiful imperfection she had placed her hope on.
And such beauty turned out to be a disgrace.
And such beauty had gone to waste.


"You only live once" it rang in my head and I shivered out of the memory. The water was still running and the splashes were harder and sharper against my back. Splashes that hadn't jerked me out of my thought but now struck me loudly competing with my heart beat.
Sister wasn't going to live once. She had to live again. She had to breathe again. I panicked and tilted her head back ward, raising her chin up to the ceiling. Her neck was incredibly longer at such pose but that wasn't something to make me marvelled at the time. Seconds was passing and time wasn't waiting for me. I had to bring her back before she crossed the thin astral line dividing the body and the soul. Before she actually died.
I bent over and pinched her nose. Then shifted to her lips,her lips were tightly pressed. I arched my thumb and my index finger mildly parting her wet lips, I bent over her and breathed into her mouth. Hard yet calm, heavy yet mild for I was scared... Very scared.
I continued the chest compressions and if I had counted, I pumped at least a hundred times every minute even though my arms begged for mercy, I didn't for once think of giving up. There was no help, I was the help. I had to call myself, my physical strength and inner determination to save a life. To be a saviour for once in my life.

If she didn't breathe in the next five minute, she could have one of the complications caused by lack of oxygenated blood in the body. Short-term or long-term brain damage, neither was a better choice. I had to be the sister in need. I had to put my pain aside and look at the result I was trying to get. To help her breathe.
To save her.

Her chest rose and I heard the best sounds I have ever heard anyone make. It wasn't my first time hearing them but at the time, it was the best gift God could have ever given me.

My sister coughed obviously choking on the water that she was vomiting. I massaged her chest and throat mildly, adjusting her till she was very comfortable. Her eyelids flickered and gently opened. Her eyes were very red and mine was filled with tears.
I had battled death with her and we had won. It was the best feeling in my life. I couldn't have ever been happier and as I continued to massage her chest telling her everything would be fine and how much I loved and cherished her, how worried I had been and how I would continue to be a sister in need to her, I realised I had decieved myself all this while.

Searching for peace where it didn't exist. Mixing up love, sex and love for sex. Love didn't have to be from an opposite sex neither did it have to sexual. Love was a beautiful feeling of acceptance, adoration and self believe. It didn't have to promise silver or gold nor did it have to promise a life time in a diamond castle. Love was love.

It didn't matter if Adam was with me or lade. It didn't matter if Mofe was hitting on Kwame. It didn't matter how long Father and I had been in an inordinate relationship.
I was in love with my sister and I would be there for her.
You only live once but you can live again when you realize your mistakes and make amends.
Like me.

I won't ever rush my relationship with anyone. I won't ever mix up love and lust anymore because I would be killing this personality and live a new life. Live again.
Sister coughed again and this time she sounded better. She sat up by her self and I went over to the shower and turned it off. The bathroom became quiet except the dripping of water from the tub and the sucking sound as I removed the strainer that had constrained the water from flowing.
I turned around glad that everything was going to be okay but then I saw Father standing at the door without his usual grin.

End of Season 1.

lol wow confusion everywhere as hefelove said

Thanks y'all all for the comments and am soo sorry for the slow update, have been working on other stories ni o also the photo story wahala and the blog wahala

please moisef am soo sorry.

I will end Rhoda season 1 later today sha enh lemme call it season 1 will start the next season soon. Thank u all for going along with me. Just thank u so much u all!

Episode 70a
It was noon but my sister wasn't being the lazy whimp she is with ear phones in her ear while staring out the kitchen window. Mother was not in the picture neither was Father. The afternoon sun glared on the dark shades that I was wearing to hide the redness of my eye. It complemented the black gown I had gotten for the day and my hair was tucked into a black Brimm's hat . Black was my best colour because it didn't contradict the darkness in my soul and it was suitable for clubbing but this wasn't an occasion.
I was mourning.

A small pamphlet had been printed with her obituary on it and the pastor instructed us to open to the third page and read the hymn. It was the hymns everyone sang at funerals . That hymn that competed with Adele's emotional song. That hymn that was sung to make the family the dead feel better but only made them cry more.
'Jerusalem on high...
My song and city is
My home where I die
The sunset of my bliss
Oh happy day....'

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I kept biting my lips to comfort myself. My cousin, Gbemi who had flown down from London to attend the funeral was on my left, I took my hand in hers and gave it a mild squeeze. She couldn't see my eyes, how red they were, how they had been replaced with devastation and hurt, how much pain the glasses hid.

It was normal tradition not to attend a burial of someone you are old enough to give birth to but the same didn't apply to the pastors. They all wore white garments and mufflers with Anglican inscriptions and sang the hymn with so much passion. They were glad another soul had gone to God, if only they knew it was suicide. Murder was a sin especially murdering* oneself... If that defined suicide.

Mother said it was a bad news to say she killed herself. Instead, the family told people she slipped in the bathroom and drowned in the full bathtub due to her unconsciousness after the fall. Only a few people knew the truth.

The cemetery was large and scary. Several burial spots had it's own stone, inscription and design. Being a private cemetery, most of the corpse belong to rich people. Some had their statues in front of their burial grounds made of expensive materials: brass and bronze alike. I had bought a bouquet of flowers to drop as soon as her casket was placed into the floor. I hoped to drop more a week after.

The temperature was irregular and the Aura was very low and dark. If I had been blindfolded and brought to the cemetery, I would have known I was there. Death loomed around and if anyone had an inner eyes, they would see the ghosts of the innocent crying out of help and the spirits of the wicked gnashing their teeth in regrets as they both prepared for the afterlife. The life beyond the life within.
I rose my eyes up to the sky. She was young, beautiful and perfect but she had killed herself because even though she had all, she didn't have what it takes to last long. Life was very short, complicated and unpredictable. My cousins all looked composed while I stood listening to the pastor talk about Heaven and Hell. The place of peace and the place of pain. A golden city and a bottomless lake of fire. It wasn't my first time hearing about them but it was the first time someone close to me died. I quietly wished her heaven.
Someone on my left wrapped her hands around me and I looked at her. I had expected her to cry more than me being an Aries but her eyes were dry and she hadn't worn a glasses but a veil which she wrapped around her face and held the helm to cover her nose. She looked like an Indian or a Muslim. Her light brown eyes were cold with pain. The only streak of pain her physique disclosed.
"You only live once " my sister said.

Episode 69
"Father! Father!"
The bathtub was full to brim and the floor was flooded though because of the high platfrom, the water didn't reach where I stood looking at the mess in horror still unable to move my hands from the curtain and do something. It was as though I had immediately been spelled and stupefied. As if I had transformed to a statue. I forgot how essential breathing was to human life, I forgot how important it was to blink once in every passing twenty seconds, I forgot how the bathroom originally looked before she came back from the island where she stays, before I yanked the curtain aside. I couldn't feel my face.

She was there. Naked and drowning in the pool of water as still as a rock except her hair which floated all over her face. Her eyes were shut in a tight slit like she had purposely shut them. In the split seconds I stood there trying to comprehend the scene before me, It was a dreadful sight. She was as pale as a corpse and my heart skipped two beats. Adrenaline finally shut through my veins seconds after. The longest seconds of my life.

"Father! Father ' I screamed but there was no reply. I leaned forward and pulled her out of the water. She weighed far too much for a model and it worried me to imagine she had been eating off the gyms diary and gaining excess pounds than required for her career . People tend to eat carelessly when they had too much in their mind and this realisation increased my fear. I lifted her out of the bathtub, both of my hands under her armpit, placing her weight against my chest as I continued to drag her with all my effort. It was like pulling a lifeless sack of rice.

Her bare legs coiled around in a mess and it reminded me of Aunty Afura, how her legs had been when she fainted in shock of being killed by the child she had raised from birth. Wasn't life such a cruel place?
I finally managed to pull her full length out of the water, ignoring the running shower that had soaked my hair over again and the splatters on the edges of the bathtub that had my pyjamas dripping into my naked kitty cart.

"Father! " there was still no response.
I placed her flat on her back and checked for a pulse by dipping my index finger on her throat very deep as if I wanted to plunge into her oesophagus or cut through to her lungs. As if I was looking for something which I technically was. I kept my finger still, my mouth still ajar as it had been since the moment I saw the incomprehensible and finally I felt the tiny beats that shone the bright lights of hope in my face. She was still alive. 'Still' alive because she had almost died and if I didn't do something, she 'still' could but at the moment I could 'still ' do something.

It was the strangest feeling knowing I was the only one who could save her life. Realising that her life was in my hands was the greatest responsibility ever placed upon my shoulders. Thank God for secondary school co-curricular activity, I had knowledge on how to save someone who had just be drowned in FirstAid Club. I had been less interested in the club because the drama club was where I belonged but for schools regulation that insisted every student switch groups every term so everyone could gain in every aspect. The club mistress had intentionally picked me for experiment and I can never forget how my juniors kept teasing me about the way she had continued to pound my chest like she was pounding Yam for her husband's Mother and didn't want to be put to shame. Never thought I'll do the same to my own sister. I placed my hands on her chest and began to pound but she wasn't responding. I grabbed the hand mirror on the shelf and placed it under her nose. It gave just a very faint blur.
GOD PLEASE, I KNOW I'M A SINNER BUT PLEASE HELP ME. HELP US
"Dad! " I screamed again.
I continued the CPR for another couple of seconds then placed the mirror under her nose again. There was no blur. I had lost her

Episode 68
Cursed be the day I left Kwame
Cursed be the day I met Mofe
In fact Cursed be the day I was born.
The walls of the room was closing on me. What sort of friend makes it an habit to date everyone's ex? Just immediately, the answer to that thought came as another question. What kind of person makes it an habit to wear only second hand clothes when they can obviously afford Mr Price wears? It all made sense.
I have never done anything to hurt Mofe so this wasn't payback time. It was just sheer stupidity and I didn't plan to curtail it. If Mofe wanted to play the game of chess on me, trying to seduce Kwame with her size thirty two waist and fake eyelashes, I was born to play.
Having Kwame for myself wasn't the number one goal. I just didn't want Mofe to have him and start feeling important and successful. The thought of it was irritating. She could be rich but her with that disgusting attitude and continuous complaint, no guy would manage her for long. She would only suck them dry before breaking up again. I still don't know what she did to Shalewa's ex. I really should have asked before leaving the saloon but because I was in a rush to see you-know-who.

I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. Looking at my reflection always gave me the best advices and helped me realise my mistakes. I looked like a widow with my wet hair and smeared overnight makeup. I ran my hand through the hair, no wonder Kwame was getting interested in Mofe, she didn't wake up lazying around and thinking about the past. She made sure she looked good and focused on her mission. Getting Lame wrapped around her fingers. The mission I could make sure she fails but this time I swear not to use my body, I've suffered too much using my body as a weapon.

The sound of music from the next room startled me. My sister was home and I had no idea. I had been so tired the previous night I didn't notice her car in the compound. I quietly opened my door and went over to hers. The music was actually the ringing of her phone and it was lying on the table. The new table used to replace the one that I had carelessly set on fire.
I looked around the room. It was cozy and warm, as spotless as ever and looked just the way she had left it. Well laid bed sheets, proper folded clothes even in the laundry box! I rolled my eyes, who folds a dirty cloth? Aye, my sister or any other cleanliness freak out there. Where was she?

I walked over to the bathroom and pushed the door open. The water closet was covered with toilet seat and the shower was running but through the shower curtain, i couldn't see her standing. I yanked it aside and revealed the horror.
Shock shot through my entire body system. My eyes popped out of its socket and my mouth fell ajar.
'Oh my God!' was all I could blurt out.

Episode 67
The news of the previous day's rain filled the headlines of the ten 'o'clock clock news. I had woken up so late glad that no one had disturbed my peaceful rest. Even if Father had tried to, he wouldn't be able to come into my room. I hadn't forgotten to bolt it this time. After the occurrence between us on independence Day morning, I asked for forgiveness from God and promised myself it would never happen again. After Lade advised me.
I picked up my phone to call Kwame. To thank him for the ride home and ask him about the journey back to Yaba. Immediately I heard the news of the flood the rain had caused, I became worried about Kwame. He really went out of his way to help me out of a rough night and I owed him my gratitude.

There was an unread message on my phone from a strange number.
I'M SO SORRY ABOUT YESTERDAY. I DIDN'T MEAN TO BREAK THE TRUST YOU HAD FOR ME. I GUESS I'M NOT A GOOD THERAPIST FOR YOU. ADAM AND I HAVE BEEN DATING FOR EIGHT YEARS, I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU BUT I COULDN'T.... I'M SORRY YOU FOUND OUT THAT WAY. I'M VERY SORRY
-LADE

My eyes ran through the message a second time and then a third. It wasn't because I always thought the use of caps lock in a sentence while typing was to make emphasis or shout at the reader but the emotions in the letter. They were too genuine to be true. Lade had fought the urge to tell Adam my secret but I still believe she could have fought harder instead of blowing my cover and turning the tables around and accusing me falsely. Aye, she did make a wrong accusation. I never cheated on Adam, I had actually sent two text messages the night I was drunk, but only Kwame's message was delivered because I ran out of airtime. I only found out after having sex with Father which literally meant I was single during the act with him but who could I explain this to. I was still a LovePeddler. I had still slept with my Father.

Sadness painted heavy brush strokes on my face and I felt the hairs on my neck stand at attention. I wanted to throw my phone against the wall and bury my face in the pillow and cry again but a call came in and I stared at the name of the caller.
It was Kwame.

I braced my self, cleared my throat and picked up the phone hoping I didn't sound like a spoilt radio.
"hello dear, how are you? " he sounded very concerned and my face lit up with hope. I realised how much I had missed his care. If only I had fallen back in love with him as easily as I fall back in bed with Father. I hadn't seen him that morning.
My voice was hoarse as I replied but kwame has known me too long to care about a soar throat. "i'm fine, all thanks to your ride. I must say I really owe you for your kindness, even after all I said...." i hesitated as I heard him talking to someone under the phone. He asked who it was at his front door and I heard the creaking of a door.
"hmm...yeah, I'm fine too. The ride was nothing... I'll call you back later..take care " I knew he sounded worried but I wasn't sure what it was that made him brush me off so hurriedly.

"morning sunshine, hope it's not--" the line became dead. I could never mix up that tiny high pitched voice that was very suitable for a soprano singer in a church choir. It didn't belong to just anybody.
It belonged to Mofe

Episode 66
I never planned today like this. Well it seems things never go as planned especially for me that's why I don't write a schedule.

"Hello Rhoda" that was all Mofe said that seem like a dagger pierced to my skin.
What was she doing with my Kwame. 'my Kwame ' didn't sound wrong in my mind. Even though we had broken up and things got very ugly, I still think I care so much about him. Even though he had cheated on me, I still think he deserves a second chance.

Although all indications where showing our relationship was over, didn't that kiss mean anything to him? The kiss that kept me thinking if we could work things out but for the devil I thought was the love of my life.
Mofe's trip to France really changed her. Although she changed boyfriends even faster than I change lingerie, she now seems to be a bitch. Merely looking at her she looks like one with her blonde hair. Speaking of which why would a black girl wear blonde? I guess the saying is true " Blondes got the beauty and not brain". Contrary to that statement she doesn't even look beautiful today with her black dress and hair. She reminds me of my bottle of Guiness foreign extra stout. They say Paris is the home of fashion but my dear Mofe got it real bad or maybe I was just beginning to detest her.

Kwame helped me with the door of the back seat before running off to the driver's seat. Mofe turned on the radio as Kwame started the car taking a peek through the rear mirror at me. Our eyes met and I looked away. I didn't want him to see that I was green with envy. To see how hurt I was to be treated as the second, pushed to the backseat like a maid, drenched and defeated.

The voice of Gbemi on The Drive Time Shows on Beat99.9 made me feel better. Gbemi happens to be one of my favourite OAPs. She is just so inspiring and she speaks the truth. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to speak out my thoughts to the world like her, the drive was long.

Kwame kept stealing glances at me and Mofe kept talking about the bad road to my parents house. She kept complaining about ache each time the car hit a sharp stone or entered a pothole. She kept getting on my nerves but I remained calm. It wasn't my car neither was Kwame mine and I was even too tired to start a fight. Another fight.

Kwame finally pulled over at my gate and walked me to the gate without saying a word. Mofe didn't come down from the car, she apologized saying she couldn't afford to get her Brazilian wig wet. Dayo opened the gate and I thanked Kwame for the ride. He wanted to say more but I was too tired to talk. Too tired to ask him about More. Too tired to think about my feelings for him.
I just slept off immediately my head touched the pillow.
It was a long day.

lol it's like aye is truly doing her. Thanks for the comments, lemme continue

Episode 65
I was dripping.
The streets were isolated and the few people on the road had umbrellas and rain coats shielding them from the harsh strokes of the November 1st rain. Most of the shops were closed and their verandas were filled with people who didn't have the weapon to protect them from the painful whips of nature's tears.

My hair was ruined as I didn't have a shower cap or nylon to cover my hair but I didn't mind since my weavon wasn't fake and could easily be dried with a manual hand drier. There was no space left in most of the buildings with spaces in front neither was there any other place left to hide. All offices had closed and with the current weather, no bike was going to leave the bus stop. That's even if they were at the bus stop.
I was stuck.

I could not go back to Adam's apartment not only because I was already twenty blocks away but because even though i managed to alter his ego I didnt think I could face him anytime soon. I scrolled through my contacts for a new helper and the first number my finger clicked was Father's .I could not call Father. He was the last person I wanted to see at that moment.
I looked up Kwame's number ,pushed away my pride and dailed it. He was the only one that could come to my aid. He told me to wait for a few minutes that he was on his way. I shielded my face with my hand while I reminisced on everything that has happened in my life. Why was I so messed up? Why did I have ill luck. Why could I not do anything right? . I was still in my thoughts unable to answer my questions when Kwame's car pulled over. He ran out to me and apologized for being late. I didn't even answer as I walked into the car. I stood frozen as I got closer to the car.

Not frozen by the cold I felt beneath my soaked sweater but what made my hands stiff as I held the knob of the car was.....
What was she doing there? Who invited her? Why was she with Kwame at this time of the night?
"Hello Rhoda" was all Mofe said.
Now I think I need to see a pastor.

Episode 64
I picked my clothes and strolled to the bathroom with my heads up. I wasn't going to leave being the loser, I placed a fake smile on my face silently praying lade didn't notice that the edges of my curved lips was shaking and that my eyes were glittering with the tears I could hardly hold back in.

I closed the bathroom door and sat on the water closet burying my face in the clothes in my hands hoping my muffled sniffs didn't leave the bathroom but the seat became uncomfortable within a minute and I hung the clothes on the shelf and laid in the bath tub.

My legs were weak and it was nothing close to the aftermath of sleeping with Adam but in shame and humiliation. This wasn't what i had planned to happen when Adam woke up by my side. He was supposed to bring me dinner in bed and then we talk and have sex again. I never pictured Demilade's visit even though I knew there was something fishy about her, her questions and the stupid wall frame she hid so dearly, the one I now know held a picture of her and Adam. One which Adam probably had the widest smile any man could ever have. A picture that showed how in love they were and how much they meant to each other before I, the devil came to put them asunder.A picture that held my Prince Charming, the one who I though I was in love with, The one who looked at me as if I were a psycho. The one who wouldn't love me even though I was garbage.

I took a quick shower and when I got out I looked in the mirror and watched my naked reflection, studying how the water trickled down my skin, every droplet reminded me of my joy and how it continued to slip out of my life as if a curse had been placed upon me. As if I was born to be sad.

I rose my fingers to my soft lips and counted my problems. The inordinate affection my father had for me that's if he even had anything for me at all and then there was my mother's nastiness, lack of attention and child preference.
Then there was a dream I thought was going to come through which just became a nightmare, anyone's worse nightmare.

Oh, wait... There was something I failed to count. It isn't my relationship with Kwame which went down like the Titanic or his second coming where I had blown him away like a rusted leaf from a fig tree. It was Mofeoluwa's question. It replayed in my mind like a studio record: loud, clear and discreet bringing along the same ache it had caused my heart when she asked earlier with determination lining her voice. If her question could have such an effect on me then it only meant one thing. I still had feelings for Kwame.

I got dressed and walked out of the bathroom. Adam was dressed now and Lade was not in sight. I walked over to the table by the bed ,picked my bag and phone ignoring Adam's stare which had followed my every movement the whole time.
"so you have nothing to say?" Adam smirked and I stopped halfway to the door. The many things I had planned to talk about over dinner evaporated from my head and the fake smile on my face was spread into a genuine grin.
"I do have something to say to you, Adam" the grin deepened and was just like Father's.
"Go learn how to Bleep cause Father bleeps me hard-er, long-er and he knows how to shave his dick"

U all should check my IG page @frozenfirenaija for my photo story. Thanks

Thanks for all the comments, will update later today and again please o somebody is posting my story on facebook his name is Newton Trent he has blocked me sef after I accused him he has also blocked my friends that told me too. Please if you know him warm him o

Episode 63
I hate confessions. It was hard enough when I told Mother what Father did to me when I was a kid and what he continued to do and sometimes am glad she didn't believe. I don't know what would have happened if she went on to father and picked up a fight. Maybe Aunty Aura would still be alive but things never happened the way I imagined.

Demilade crossed her hand over her chest, Adam was looking at me with his eyes deep with sadness and I sat there searching for my words out of my gummy throat.
"lade is my therapist" I managed to say and it seemed to affect Adam because the look on his face changed, his full eyebrows curved to a frown and his eyes accused me. He probably thought I'm mentally ill and I couldn't blame him. It wasn't totally a lie. A girl in her rightful senses wouldn't sleep with her father or her therapist fiance.

"Adam, you are cheating on me with someone who is cheating on you. Ask her what she does with.. " she hesitated and closed her eyes trying to fight her temper but it was a lost battle. "she sleeps with her own Father, Adam. She does." and she began to sob as the tears flowed softly down her cheeks.

She had ruined me against her will. She had let the cat out of the bag and Adam had his mouth agape. He gave me a questioned look and I nodded in affirmation to the statement Lade had said against me. My secret was blown out and I couldn't do anything to make me look better but be truthful even though my heart was ripping behind my skin. I licked my lips and with embarrassment I studied by fingers because I couldn't think of anything to say neither could I find my voice to blurt out rubbish. I watched him drift away from me even though he was still in bed with me, even though his left leg was still wrapped in mine and I could feel the heat between us on my thighs he felt far away from me. In his eyes lied something I had never seen, something I would never forget.
Disgust.

I was trash. I was dirt. I was rubbish.
It hurt that only half an hour ago he had kissed me and proclaimed his love for me and it hurt more that I had believed him, that I had thought we were made for each other, that I never thought he could look at me with so much disgust.

I got out of the bed naked not caring if my nude affected anyone who thought am a dirty LovePeddler. I couldn't totally blame Adam for the hurt in my soul, i had walked over to his house to throw myself at him.
Now it was time to throw myself out of his house.
And his life.

Thanks everyone one and those that are following my photostory on IG thanks soo much.

please u all should follow me on IG @frozenfirenaija for my photo story o please I will continue with Rhoda here. Thanks soo much

munchi:
madam pls ur IG name,make I run follow u dey wait for the pics story.....I no wan miss

it's @frozenfirenaija o thanks

hatchetman:
frozenfire u r gud mehn.love every episodes of ur story..ur style is more dan amazing..may GOD BLESS UR CAREER..

Amen. Thanks soo much

Episode 62
It really sucks to be me. I didn't need another therapist to explain to me the dilemma I was in. This was lade, my therapist who I had suspected was in a broken relationship in my boyfriend's house which he had carefully locked with his key after he welcomed me in with a bright smile that had stirred the butterflies in my stomach. My eyes ran quick to her hands, she was holding a bunch of keys too which explained how she managed to get into a closed apartment. My stomach groaned in fear and realisation. lade was Adam's fiance the one he never mentioned. The ex I never asked about because I was taken with my own love for him and maybe because I didn't want him to ask about my own ex.
Until then I didn't know Adam and I lacked communication in our few days relationship. It wasn't totally because he was usually busy and we hardly went deep in our conversation,it was because I was taken by my infatuation. Infatuation, that was what I had for Adam. All I ever felt for him was nothing but a fairy tale where there was the prince with the special shiny sword who rescued the lost princess from the hands of the wicked evil magical witch and then she fell in his arms falling in love with him immediately after which a full bright rainbow draws in the sky then they both perform a love song except that Adam wasn't a prince and though I was lost, I wasn't a princess and his weapon was a broken bottle saving me from a street thug not the falsity that Disney painted for kindergarten kids and there was no rainbow or a duet, there was the rhythm of my tears and the roaring of thunder as it showered above us.
It was never love.
Adam stirred and woke up stretching and yawning with a smile on his face. Then he stopped and hurriedly sat up sneaking a furtive glance at his body and I saw the tacky lines of his face calm as he adjusted the blankets and pulled it up to his chest. his aura heightened in fear.
"Demi....." I expected him to say "I can explain" like kwame did when I was the one standing not the one caught messing with someone else's fiance but this wasn't Deja Vu,this was much more complicated.
Lade had her lips pressed together the whole time and I could tell she was biting her tongue obviously fighting a war in her mind. Now her face was down with so much hatred I thought she would pull out a gun and shoot Me then Adam and maybe herself but surely me first.
"Adam, can you tell her what you told me last night?"my gaze shifted to Adam and his eyes widened "Adam you begged me to come back, you apologised for everything and I asked you if you had anyone else you said you would end it... Now after a night with you I come back to this... " she bit her lip trying to control her temper but the devil had his way. "this LovePeddler, this sexpot, this sick ..thing?"
My eyes filled
"lade, please stop,please dont"
Adam frowned and turned to me.
"you know her? "