rukidanty:
Very interesting and suspecting Abbey to have erectile dysfunction for not wanting to have sex with Mary. Hope I am wrong sha..thanks for the update

rukidanty:
you're right anyway because if she have the opportunity she would sleep with shola

frankwriter:


Episode 6

“I need to borrow your car,” blinking my eyes against the sunlight and slipping into our room. John startled me from my peaceful sleep. I saw him move around the room swiftly, in a hurry, dressed in his police uniform.

“The police car broke down and I’m running late,” he explained. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes to wake myself up. I was okay with John taking the car, but…

“If you take my car, how will I get to work?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.
“You have to go in at about eight, right?”

I nodded.

“Alright, I’ll just pick you up after I get off work.” He sounded convincing.

It wasn’t the best idea because John tends to stay late at his job. But I didn’t feel like arguing today and I was still extremely tired. I had a long day yesterday, cleaning the house and doing other house chores.

***
It had been a few days since the incident at the restaurant. Well, it was hardly an incident, still, it’s been a while. John and I haven’t gotten into arguments or anything. Oddly, he was calm. He rampages usually, but surprisingly, he was gentle. He hadn’t mentioned creating a child lately, not that I was complaining. Yet, I was still on edge.

John wouldn’t hurt me, but for some reason, he seemed off. I pray he hasn’t discovered the pills hidden in the bathroom.

“Okay,” I said, looking up at him. He came over and kissed my lips quickly.
“I'll see you later.” He bid farewell and rushed out of the room.

I heard his footsteps thudding down the stairs before hearing the front door open and then closed. I was alone and still tired. I dragged my eyes toward our bedside table and saw my phone.

Leaning over, I picked it up to check the time. It is 7:30 in the morning. It’s been up to two hours since John left the house. Placing the phone back down, I rolled over and sighed. Lifting the covers above my head, I closed my eyes.
Just a couple more hours.

I jerked awake, startled. My heart beating a mile a minute. Harsh thuds reverberated through the house. That was what it felt like to me. My head was beginning to pound as the sound of banging reached my ears.

What’s happening?

I quickly jumped out of bed, grabbed my phone, and dialed my husband’s line but it didn’t go through. I quietly shuffled out of my bedroom before nearing the entrance door.

As I approached it, I looked around in case something jumped out at me. I darted to the kitchen quickly. I didn’t want to die as an idiot without a weapon. I grabbed a kitchen knife and made my way to the front door, gripping both my phone and knife tightly. One of those things I learned from my husband. As a policeman, I have learned a lot of security measures from John.

When I got to the door, I called out in a deep voice, imitating a man.
“Who is there?” I looked out through the keyhole, and that was when I heaved a big sigh of relief. I quickly unlocked the door.

“Jesus, you really scared me, Gbenga.”

He stood there in a police uniform similar to that of my husband. Gbenga was older than John by a few years. However, he became a good friend to John and I when John joined the force. He was such a nice man from Ekiti State. I closed the door behind him when he walked in.

“Why were you pounding on the door like that? Is John in trouble?” I asked. It was then I remembered I didn’t even greet him first.

He simply smiled and giggled.

“Don't worry ma, your husband is safe but I'm running late. Johnson sent me to pick you up.” He said.

I still don’t know why Gbenga insists on calling John by his full name. But why would John send him?

“The DPO needs Johnson to join a patrol, and he said you need a ride to work. But it seems you don’t look ready,” Gbenga said and paused.

I glanced at the time on my phone and gasped.

“Damn! I’m running late already.” I handed the kitchen knife to Gbenga and ran inside the house as he followed me. I couldn’t believe I slept that long after John left the house. And if I don’t get dressed in about a few minutes, I would miss an appointment. It takes about thirty minutes to get to my workplace. It was unlike me to be late, never mind the fact that today may be the first.

The clothes I planned to wear were already set and neatly folded in my wardrobe. A thin sweater with a V-neck that didn’t show too much. A tan skirt that reached just about the tops of my ankles and had a small slit that stopped at the start of my thigh. And lastly, my tan heels and black purse.

After putting on my clothes, I ran inside the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I didn’t have time to do a full-face routine, but I made sure to wash it. No time for makeup except for gloss, then I was ready. This time, Gbenga was already waiting in front of the door. He was in a hurry.

“You could have sat in there,” I said, upset with myself for letting him stand.
“Please, ma, I have been sitting all day. I’m ok. Are you ready?”

I nodded and walked out of the house before shutting the door behind me. Then we both headed to his car. I would be riding in a police SUV today, I said to myself.

Gbenga opened the door for me and made sure I was in before shutting it and walking to the driver's side. He sat down, made sure I was buckled, then ignited the engine. We finally zoomed off on the tarred road.

Gbenga had dropped me off so many times when John couldn’t. Sometimes I didn’t mind, but today I kind of wanted to ride with my husband. Maybe I was being silly. Although I couldn’t help but think that whenever Gbenga takes me, I feel like John was avoiding me.

One, because Gbenga had taken me to work more times than John had. Two, I've told John so many times to get rid of the truck so we wouldn’t have to keep doing this. Lastly, well, I don’t have one. I just wanted my husband around me. But he was an officer of the law, so I shouldn’t be upset he can’t see me all the time.

I remember when he first started as an officer. We would always take drives together during his free time. Occasionally, we would kiss and do some stuff, that was when we were passionate. Gosh, it felt like it’s been so long since we’ve been us. I mean, it has been a while and quite frankly, I missed the old days. The days of us just being us and no one else.

“So….,”

Gbenga's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “Johnson said you two are taking a break from having a child.”

I wasn’t surprised John told Gbenga, but I was shocked Gbenga had to talk about it before me.

“Yea, the process had been on us and I thought a break would do us some good. Maybe if we obsess over it less, then…,” I felt embarrassed having this conversation, but I had to cover myself. As much as I considered Gbenga a friend, he was John's first. Both men tell each other everything. A memory of John telling me something came to my mind: “It's a police thing, Mary. We’ve got each other’s backs.”

Gbenga cleared his throat. “I see. I hope it works out and then you both invite us for a party,” he laughed and I laughed, too.

“So, how have you been lately?” I asked, trying to steer away from the topic.
“Not bad, still missing my family,” he paused and I saw his countenance changed.

“I went to visit them recently at Ado Ekiti,” he added. I kinda felt bad hearing him say that. There I was trying not to have a child for John while Gbenga wished he had his kids, and family around.

“That’s great. You went to see them,” I enthused, knowing he didn’t want pity.
“How are they doing? Hope everything is fine?” The traffic light was red, so we stopped.

“They are all doing better than me,” he answered, resting his both hands on the steering.

“I’m glad you saw them and I'm happy to see you doing better day by day,” the light turned green. We continued our ride.

“Thank you, ma,” Gbenga said shortly.

We spent the next few minutes making small talk and listening to music. Gbenga tried playing some trash Nigerian hip hop but I smacked his hand away from the stereo and put on cool music. Johnny Drille began to blast through the speakers and I sang along. “How are you” (My friend) was the song we vibed to.
I saw Gbenga lightly bumping his head along the track. We jammed a few more times and the next thing I know, he pulled up to my workplace.

“That was fun. Thanks for the ride, Gbenga,” I told him sincerely.

“Anything you for, Missy. Hold on so I can open the door,” He unlocked his door, got out, and came around to my side. Opening my door, he extended his hand which I took, and helped me out of the SUV.

“Now, have a fantastic day at work, and be safe. I'll stay and I see you get inside.”
I giggled and then I turned to thank him again and waves him goodbye. He waved back to me.

I walked hastily towards the entrance of my workplace while he zoomed off.


To be continued…
Frank The Writer




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