The Affair

Nakida

We had been together for three years, just the two of us in our little world so when we had our first fight I took the opportunity and went to relive my university days. Armante, My husband was my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first everything so I never really had the required experience to be in a relationship but i found myself marrying him six months after meeting him so I never really got the time to think about whether we were rushing things and by the time we flew out to Kenya to tie the knot it seemed an alright thing to do; his family liked me and he was rich and we got on pretty well, we still do.

Which is why the last nights fight really shocked me. I was never the type to act irrationally but I couldn't stop myself from marching out of the house after he slapped me. I also knew that he didn't mean it and he was under stress after being diagnosed with pharynx cancer but once I had left I couldn't stop my feet from leading me to a club I had never been to before.

I got comfortable on one of the stools at the front of the bar and asked for a glass of whisky. My hair hung towards the left side of my neck, causing me great discomfort. It was a stubborn mess that kept flopping in different directions. I had been growing my hair ever since I was born and it reached right under my boobs. Everyone I met was always quite astonished and I was always tired of explaining to them that castor oil did not do the trick and it was just my genes.

I've never really drank a lot so I was a lightweight and before i knew it I was flirting with the bartender and grabbing onto him. I really was portraying black people in a terrible way and I could feel puke making its way up my throat so I grabbed a bottle of gin, payed the bartender and teetered outside. I was about to cross the road when a car flashed it's light at me.

                                                                                     ***

I wake up with a resounding bomb detonating in my brain. How the fuck did i get home. I barely remember what happened after leaving the club but here I am in my satin purple pyjamas with the smell of Armante's cologne wafting through the bathroom door

9:37am. Shit. I'm late for work, No No No. My boss is cranky enough when I'm early, I can't bear to be late. I rush into the bathroom where Armante is drying his hair, completely naked. I stare at him, unsure of how to react. He smiles at me so i guess we made up last night. Damn he is a fine man. The fine man I married. His hair is in small neat cornrows, shoulder length. His shoulders broad, with toned abs (six-pack obviously). His thighs are muscular and his veins visibly travel down every route of his legs with perfectly sculpted calves.

He leans in for a kiss then backs away. "You really drank yourself silly last night didn't you". I stare at him then ask "How did I get home". He turns round and begins to shave "I think you just walked in. I mean i was in bed". How could he have been sleeping while his wife was out on the streets drinking her soul away. I walked out of the bathroom, sometimes i wonder how i put up with him for three whole years.

On the floor, my phone vibrated and i pick it up.

An unknown number texted me : Had fun last night, You surely know how to make a man feel good! Call me, C.