Lost in madness

48

Sally

I took a deep breath as I stepped into Folake and Emeka's new house. The scent of freshly painted walls and new furniture filled the air, a stark reminder of the life I once dreamed of having. As I made my way through the foyer, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy wash over me.

Folake's laughter echoed from the living room. I peeked around the corner to see her and Emeka, her newly minted husband, playfully teasing each other. The way they looked at one another made my heart ache—it was a look I had longed to see in Andy's eyes for years.

I slipped into the kitchen, needing a moment to compose myself. The granite countertops gleamed under the soft lighting, and I ran my hand along the cool surface, imagining what it would be like to have the perfect life I'd dreamed of as a kid. I had sworn I wouldn't end up like my mother, enduring my father's treatment. I had told myself I knew better than to let my husband treat me like furniture.

Only to end up in an even worse situation.

A few minutes later, Folake joined me, her cheeks flushed from laughter and perhaps a bit too much wine. "Sally! There you are. I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."

"God, the way I envy you," I gushed. "You guys are so beautiful together."

Folake's smile widened, and she waved her hand dismissively. "Stop, you're making me blush," she teased, but I could see the happiness radiating from her.

It was still hard to believe that Folake—the stud of our friend group and the last person anyone expected to settle down with a man—was now married. But seeing her like this, I couldn't deny how right it felt.

"I'm really happy for you," I said sincerely, pushing down my own feelings of inadequacy. "At least one of us made the right choice in the end."

Folake's expression softened. She walked over to the wine cellar—an impressive feature I'd only dreamed of having—and pulled out a bottle. As she poured two glasses, I knew we were in for a long conversation.

She handed me a glass and leaned against the counter. "So, how's that husband of yours?"

I sighed deeply, the weight of my marriage pressing down on me. "Who knows. Stalking Dabe, probably."

Folake took a sip of her wine, studying me over the rim of her glass. "That's still happening?"

"When did it ever stop?"

She rolled her eyes at the situation.

"I think the best thing for me and Jacob right now is to divorce Andrew," I admitted, voicing the thought that had been plaguing me for months.

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?"

"But... I'm afraid of what that means for Jacob. I know Andrew doesn't say it, but the way he looks at Jacob... it's almost like how his father looks at him."

Folake's brow furrowed. "Andrew is not his father," she said, but I could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"I know, I know," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "But he's going to give everything to that child just to please Dabe."

"Speaking of Dabe, Sade just sent me some photos of the wedding."

"I wasn't sure she was going to go through with it, that poor man. I wouldn't wish this life on anyone."

I let out a bitter laugh as reality dawned on me again. "You know what's funny about this whole thing? I knew he didn't love me. It was so obvious in the way he treated me—like a duty to his father. He even booked his mistress first-class tickets to our wedding, and still, I married him. I married him knowing all that because I thought..." I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"It's not your fault," Folake said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "He shouldn't have married you."

"I know, but I shouldn't have either," I admitted. "It's not like he forced me to the altar. I basically picked the venue and planned our wedding for months knowing he didn't love me."

Folake's eyes flashed with anger. "Honestly, I don't understand how Dabe could just get married after ruining someone's life."

"Dabe wasn't the one I took a vow with. If anyone's to blame for all this, it's Andrew. He's the one who destroyed everything."

Folake refilled our glasses, her expression thoughtful. "Now that she's married, maybe Andrew will rest."

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "He's obsessed with her, not to mention manipulative. I have a feeling that Dabe getting pregnant wasn't a coincidence."

"Wait, you think he got her pregnant on purpose? That's a strange accusation. Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not... The timing was just very suspicious."

"That's monstrous....Sally, I don't think Andrew is capable of doing something like that."

"One thing I know is that he's obsessed with her and would do anything to keep her by his side." I took a long sip of wine, gathering courage to continue. "You know... after Dabe left, he had so many affairs, and every one of them looked like her."

"My god!" Folake exclaimed.

"Yeah, he's obsessed with her to the point that it's scary." And admirable in some twisted way.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging heavily between us. I could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation from the other room, a stark contrast to the heaviness in the kitchen.

"What are you going to do?" Folake finally asked, her voice soft and filled with concern.

I stared into my wine glass, watching the dark liquid swirl. "I don't know," I admitted. "Part of me wants to fight for our marriage, for Jacob's sake. But I know staying might do more harm than good."

Folake reached across the counter and took my hand. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

I squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of gratitude for her friendship. "I know. Thank you."

As we sat there in Folake's beautiful new kitchen, surrounded by all the trappings of a happy life, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could find the strength to make the changes I needed in my own life—to build something beautiful, even if it meant tearing down everything I thought I knew.

The sound of Emeka's laughter drifted in from the other room, and Folake's face lit up. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a future where I could feel that kind of joy. It seemed impossible now, but looking at Folake—the last person any of us expected to find happiness in marriage—I realized that anything was possible.

As we rejoined the party, glasses in hand, I made a silent promise to myself: no matter what happened, I would find a way to create a better life for myself and Jacob. It wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in a long time, I felt ready to face it.