The Sophisticated Hellion

Biyi's wife decides to pour her heart out to her beautiful friend and all of a sudden, she begins to see that her husband has been playing her for a fool...

"Biyi hasn’t worked for that long?”

Dayo’s voice drips with resentment.

"For real?"

She repeats with question with alarm scribbled all over her face

He’s been trying,” I say in a feeble attempt to defend my husband and I add:

"You know how the economy is..."

...My husband and I had vowed never to bring in a third party into our relationship but with a bank account screaming for revival, I needed to share my burden with someone else. I grip the phone...

Dayo is unusually quiet.

"You still there?" I asked.

"Hello?"

"I am here,” she finally responds.

"I just didn’t know things were this bad. And all this while, I thought Biyi was providing for the home."

But he is, I argued silently. Well, maybe not financially for now, but in every way else, Biyi is a rock.

"It’s not that bad."

My words sounded frail. Dayo clucked her tongue before she dropped the next line.

"You might as well be a widow."

The words hit me like a fist. "Na you I blame," she continues, oblivious to the damage her words had caused.

"Me? Why?"

She is blaming me for this? Seriously?

"Why do you keep paying the bills?"

"Because there is no one else to do it," I protested and to be honest, I was beginning to get upset.

"For real? He drives your car too?"

"He needs it," I mutter. "To attend job interviews and stuff. He gets back late sometimes."

“How late are you talking about?" Dayo asked.

“9, 10...ish.”

Dayo pauses for a second.

"I hate to say this girl, but your husband spending your money on another woman."

Whoa! Hang on. Where did that come from?

"Haba, Dayo. Biyi would never!"

"Look, I know men," she slices in.

"You are his moneybag and he will take you for a ride as long as it takes. Where is your dignity, girl?" Ride. Dignity. Moneybag. Ouch!

"But he’s a good guy," I manage. Can my husband be using me? It had never crossed my mind in the past, but I now wondered if Biyi was actually having an affair.

"I trust my wonderful Dennis...," Dayo was saying but I was barely listening to her.

My eyes were on the clock. It was almost midnight and Biyi wasn’t home. I forced myself to hear what Dayo was saying about Dennis Ono, her multimillionaire e-oil- company-golden-husband.

Gosh! I envied her life and her perfect marriage.

"My marriage is wonderful," Dayo said; as if in affirmation to my undeclared words.

"But only because I show Dennis who the boss is. He cannot try nonsense with me. Abi, you think it’s easy to get ten thousand pounds a month as pocket money?"

She really gets ten grand a month? That’s like, my entire annual salary in my crappy job plus bonuses. Life is unfair. Honestly!

"I am Biyi’s wife," I said.

“I cannot just desert him.”

Or can I? At this rate...

"In that case..." There is an edge to her voice now, "give him an ultimatum. He gets a job in two weeks or you are out of this marriage."

"I..."

The words got stuck in my throat.

"Look, I know his type," she says with conviction.

"He conveniently won’t get a job as long as you keep dishing out your money."

"But..."

Once again, the words were stuck.

"Starve him," she adds.

"No sex. Make life hell. You are not an ATM machine."

Keys jingle in the hallway. Biyi is home.

"Talk later," I said to Dayo.

"He’s back."

"Stand your ground," Dayo whispers menacingly and added, "Ultimatum... Two weeks!"

I hang up with a sigh.

My husband is leaning against the door frame. For a second my heart falters. He looks tired and drawn. But Dayo’s words punctuated my compassion.

"Where have you been?"

Biyi gives me a side smile and says, "No hug?"

I jerk my head at the wall clock.

"Its midnight. I had a job interview in Birmingham," he says.

"I called you to tell you I was stuck in traffic severally but I kept getting your voicemail. What’s wrong?"

I cocked my head. Is that a whiff of female perfume? It is. Dayo is right. He has been with another woman. With my car! Spending my money!

My head spins.

"Biyi!" I glared at him.

"Where are you coming from?" He steps back looking surprised.

"I went to Birmingham..."

"Did you get it?" I screeched.

"The job?"

Biyi shakes his head. "I didn’t..."

This is the last straw. I throw my open palm towards him.

"My car keys."

He gives me a hard level stare.

"What is wrong with you, Toni? Did I offend you?"

"Pass my keys!"

He thrusts the car keys into my palm.

I pushed past him, grab my duffel bag and stuff my overnight things into it. I know I am acting crazy but I have to show him that I would not be taken for a ride. That I am not a moneybag. That I have dignity.

I zip the bag up and spin around. My husband is staring at me. "Is everything all right with you, sweetheart?"

"Get out of my way!"

"Where are you going with that bag?"

"I need to clear my head."

I am still yelling.

"Can we talk first?" Biyi suggests.

"I don’t want to talk. Get out of my way."

He moves out of my path. I swipe a hand across my face, smearing my cheeks with mascara.

"Don’t look for me. I will be back when my head clears."

I rush out of the house and jumped into my car. My rage doubles as the feminine scent permeate the car. He has been with a woman in my car. I felt like an idiot.

* * *

I pulled up in front of Dayo’s mansion. Her husband’s Porsche is in the driveway and the porch lights illuminate my dreary form as I reach the door.

I ball my fists to knock, but a scream freezes the motion.

"Kill me!" I heard Dayo scream.

"Good for nothing idiot. Womaniser of the century!"

Whoa!!! Momentarily, I am unable to move. My hand hovers in the air. I hear dull thuds and muffled screams. Dennis curses.

"I warned you never to serve me stew that is not freshly cooked!"

"Am I your slave?" Dayo yells back.

"If you want fresh stew, get your PA to cook it for you. Or you think I don’t know about her? You think..."

Dayo’s words are suddenly silenced by another thumping sound. My hands fall to my side as a flurry of blows stifle her cries.

I wanted to call the police, do something... Anything! But I could not move. And so, I shut my eyes tight and listened as my friend is pummelled by her husband.

The beating stops. I should dash to my car but something holds me back.

"I am sorry I got you upset darling," Dayo finally says.

Her voice is laced with pain.

"It is my fault. I should have cooked for you. I... Toni wouldn’t let me get off the phone... It's her fault."

"Next time you talk to me like that, I will tattoo a punch on your forehead," Dennis growls.

"Get into the kitchen and make me fresh stew. And do something about that leech you call a friend."

That was enough for me. I sprinted back to my car and drove home.

* * *
A knock sounds on the window. Biyi... I wind down and he gives me a smile.

"Head clear now?" he asks.

"Leave me alone," I mutter.

"Dayo’s wonderful Dennis beats her up? And she never mentioned?" I say to myself; momentarily lost in thought.

"I will leave you alone in 2 seconds,” Biyi says.

There is a twinkle in his eyes.

"...but first, get out of the car."

I oblige, grudgingly.

"What?" He reaches under the car seat and pulls out a small basket.

"I didn’t come home straight from the interview. I stopped over at the perfume shop to get you this."

He hands the basket over. Inside was a range of exotic feminine perfumes and a small card. I pulled the card open and read the words:

"Thank you for your support during the hardest times of my life! I love you."

"That’s why I was late," he explains as he pulls me into a warm embrace.

"You have been so good to me, Toni. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife."

I couldn’t reply. My throat was lumpy.

"When you left the house to clear your head, I got a call back from the recruiter," he says with a beam.

"God answers prayers, babe. I got the job. It’s a package you won’t believe. Let’s go in. I’ll tuck you into bed and you can tell me what’s bothering you?"

* * *

I awaken to a text message from Dayo.

"Denis is flying me to Seychelles this weekend. This is what you get when you stand your ground. You have to be a no-nonsense gurl! Don’t you just love my life? Ciao sweetheart xxx."

I typed a quick response back: "Ciao!" and I quickly blocked her line with an App I had downloaded specifically for this purpose.

Now, this is one story every woman should read. The grass is never greener on the other side; best to believe that.

No matter how good a friend’s marriage, work, family or life is, NEVER EVER compare your marriage or your life to theirs!

Author: Abimbola Dare | Simply SAMAD