HE SERVED ME BREAKFAST AND I ATE IT

He took me out to Central Park to celebrate the end of my exams. We played mini golf, did go-karting, licked ice cream and finished the day soaking up in each other’s skin.

We saw each other every other weekend. We went to lot of dates, from hiking to cinema to horse riding to swimming to hotel bookings to meeting his cousins. I had the best time with him.

Mehn, I fell in love with this man.

I thought of the future with him. Our wedding, our honeymoon, our big house, our beautiful fair children, our children’s nannies, our family vacation and even our grandchildren.

But there was that one thing that bothered me. And after weeks of holding back, I let it all out the night we lodged at ALMAT Farms.

“Baby,” I looked at him while lying naked next to him on the bed, “what are we?”

“We’re happy people.” He smiled.

I chuckled and sat up, “No, I mean... we are dating, right? Like boyfriend and girlfriend... right? That’s what we’ve been this whole time, abi?”

The smile gradually faded from his face and he sat up to look at me.

“Baby girl, I never asked you out.” He said and held my hand, “I’m not ready to be in a relationship.”

Ahh.

“Commitment is hard for me right now.”

Ehen.

“My last ex hurt me badly, and I am still trying to recover from it.”

Is that so?

“We’ll see how it goes, okay?”

Hmm.

My sister, that was when he started pouring curry and salt for the breakfast. But I never shine eyes very well to see am. I allowed him to continue cooking.

He kissed my forehead and went to sleep. That kiss reset the mumu button in my head.

Because after his confession, everything changed.

First, we would go out in public and I would catch him looking at random women’s yansh. I complained about it and he said I am not his girlfriend. Ah.

Next thing, he started making me pay for my meals. Another time, he forgot his wallet at home and made me pay for our entire three-course meal, cinema tickets and fuel for his Mercedes-Benz. He said he would pay me back, but he never did.

No matter how many times I begged him to pay me back, he said was that how I would treat our future son if he asked me for money?

I was the one always doing the calling and texting first. I nagged him almost every day because he was falling my hand for one thing or the other.

He liked the thought of me begging him. The thought of me babying him like he was my son. He said I was his experiment for how I would treat our future son.

I had to provide. I had to cook for him. I had to check up on him constantly. I had to cool him down when he was angry. I had to satisfy his needs when needed. It was draining. Gbo, I tire. I cannot do again.

What was I getting in return, just fine boy looks? Ogbeni, your girl needs spoiling too.

Every time I brought up the topic of visiting his house, he would change the subject. But one day, he finally took me there.

He stayed in a four-bedroom duplex house in Gwarimpa. It was big and fancy. The kind you would only see in American movies.

This man truly came from dollars.

I began to feel hope again for our relationship when I stepped into his home. I imagined moving in with him when we marry. I imagined our children running up and down and scattering the whole house while I shouted at them.

God, how long? I want him to marry me now. I want him to pipe me and make me scream in his soft bed. My body is hungering me.

I sat on the couch while he went upstairs to change his clothes. As I waited, the house door opened.

A pregnant young woman with a little child walked into the parlor. I stood up and looked at her in confusion.

“Who are you?” I asked her.

“Pardon?” She furrowed her brows at me, “Who are you and what are you doing in my husband’s house?”

Your what?!

Another man walked into the house from the door. He was a bit older. He dragged two heavy boxes in his hand and froze once he saw me.

“Darling, who’s this?” He asked the pregnant woman in confusion.

Before either of us could say anything, Babyboy TB came down the staircase and once he saw the older man and pregnant woman, he ran back up.

“Tope!” The man shouted furiously while storming into the parlor, “Tope, come back here! Tope! Before I open my eye-”

Babyboy TB ran back down to the bottom of the stairs. Next thing I knew, he knelt down on his knees and crawled to the older man’s feet.

“Oga, abeg, forgive me. It’s not what it looks like.”

My eyebrows shot up to my forehead. Ogbeni, what is going on?

“You brought a woman... in my house?!” The man looked at Babyboy TB’s shirt and grabbed his collar, “And why are you wearing my clothes? Ah, even my Balenciaga shoe! No wonder my bank blocked my card. This foolish boy has been using my money anyhow!”

Ah, ahhhh. What is this I am hearing. Babyboy TB na borrow-borrow dey make me shine?

Wait-

The older man looked at the pregnant woman, “Honey, can you look at this useless houseboy you brought to this house?”

I did not allow the man to finish talking. I packed my handbag and stormed for the door. My heart could not take it anymore. It felt like there was one giant stone pulling my body down.

Babyboy TB was a houseboy?! This boy that was playing with my heart was another man’s errand boy? Chai na me fuck up.

All the world I built around him began to tumble down. Our fair children, gone. Our big house, gone. Our honeymoon, vanished. Ah.

Na me chop this kind breakfast?

Before I could step outside, my legs stopped right in front of the door. I turned around to look at Babyboy TB’s oga furiously.

“Your houseboy is owing me money.” I said to him, “If he doesn’t return it, I will drag both of you on Twitter. I will expose everything that happened! He has until the end of today.”

With that, I left.

Before I got home, I received credit alerts from Babyboy TB’s oga. He paid me back double the price that his useless houseboy owed me.

The next day, Babyboy TB called me one million times. He sent me one thousand messages saying, “It’s not what it looks like.” If I deck you! Stupid fool. Am I blind?

The next next day, he sent me text messages ranting about why I was ignoring him. He became more aggressive with his messages. He threatened that he would break my house door if I didn’t pick up his calls.

Then I decided to send him one last message,

If you ever call this number again, I will report to police.

The last message he sent to me was,

I hope you and your family die, bitch. I’m glad to leave that smelling pussy of yours.

Na your mama pussy dey stink. Fool.