Its almost the weekend and i have taken a day off because Thursdays are just weekend lite and/or i was supposed to go to Chipo’s bridal party. I have exempted myself from the function for the following reasons:
a) It is just an excuse for the elderly women to wear bum shorts and teach you how to submit and please your man in bed as if you haven’t been doing that all this while without their help. I would be triggered! Besides who is teaching men how to please us after marriage? Yep, nobody!
b) I would like to rest my pocket. Nobody told me that weddings were expensive and with Chipo’s expensive taste tanzwa veduwe. Everyday its always about how much money we need to contribute for the dresses, the shoes, the make-up artist, the morning gowns, the…ah. And would i dare complain? Everyone starts saying but Paida you work in a bank as if when people deposit money it automatically becomes mine. Thank God in two days it will be over! And
c) Ever since i dropped Chipo off for her shenanigans with Tom i have been feeling quite heavy. We didn’t have a discussion about what happened because whenever we meet others are there and i am not a snitch but isn’t it kind of obvious though? And she has been avoiding talking to me directly ever since so i just let her be, she must stew in it!
That being said i called her and told her that i am not feeling well and may have caught a bug therefore i am not able to attend the kitchen party. I swear i heard a sigh of relief from the other end of the phone or i may be imagining things. Possibly. I take off my work wig, kick off my heels and pour myself a glass of sweet lips while listening to old school jams. My bottle is half down when i hear a knock on my door. I ignore at first because there is barely privacy at this complex, it could be vendors selling their wares, it could be the neighbours telling me to keep it down, it could be one unwanted visitor or the other so I’ll just sit here until they give up. I giggle. The wine must be taking its toll on me. Two minutes later the knock is still persistent. I pick up my glass and walk steadily to the door ready to tell whoever is on the other side off. I open..
And there he is.
Not the vendor i expected to see. Not the neighbour i expected to tell off and not the unwanted visitor either. He is quite the opposite of unwanted. Wanted.
“Are you going to let me in Paida?” He says in that crisp voice which still gives me the shivers.
“Ofcourse, this is quite unexpected come on in” i beckon him to step in and he goes for a hug, this guy.
He smells wonderful, just like i remember only more expensive taste.
“Chipo told me you were not joining them because you were not feeling well and i decided to pop by. Here i brought you your favourite sherry Montello Jerèpego.”
“Oh my God thank you, let me just put it in the kitchen before i break it.”
I need a breather. Pop by? We don’t do that! We last did that a long while ago after college and we only hang out in public places. It is sweet though that he remembered my favourite sherry. We used to drink that a lot back then when…
I return back to him and hand him a beer bottle which has been in my fridge since forever, i hope beers do not expire. There is a bit of awkward silence in the beginning but it wears off gradually as we continue to drink and listen to old school tunes. We laugh about how we used to dance to Outkast’s Hey Ya, rap to No diggity and sing along to that profane sir mix-a-lot song.
“Honestly I’m kind of relieved that you are feeling well, i know Chipo can be a lot to take in sometimes.” Tendai starts.
“But you are marrying her though,” i say before i could stop myself
He doesn’t answer immediately as he pours us the sherry. I quickly change the subject.
“Do you remember Sandra from our class?”
“Yes i am but over the past days i have been thinking what if i wasn’t,” i look at him puzzled.
“What if i wasn’t marrying her? What if i was marrying someone else? Someone i have a history with, someone i enjoy being with, someone who doesn’t make me feel like an extra in the movie of my own life? Someone who respects me and relates to me just like i do them? Huh? What if?” I look in his eyes, i fully comprehend what he is saying but i want him to say it. I need him to say it.
“What if i had not kissed her back in college during that stupid game, what if i had kissed you Paida. I know i wanted to. I still want to…”
I do not hear the end if that statement as the speech is muffled with our kissing sounds. My mind is reeling as i kiss him back but i still cant fight this, it is the exact thing i have always wanted. He lifts me up gently but firmly and walks to my bed where he lays me and removes my clothes in one go. He starts to undress himself but it seems to be trying his patience so he just half unbuttons his shirt, opens his zipper and……
I must have passed out because when i wake up it is pretty late. Last night’s events come to flood my brain, and when i open my eyes there he is sleeping like a baby on the left side of my bed. I don’t know how to feel, i am neither happy nor sad. Why now? Why must he tell me he has always felt the same now? What must i do with this information? It does not erase the fact he is traditionally married to another person. He is married to one of my best friends! Well one of my best friends who slept with another man a few weeks ago but that is their business. Come to think of it they deserve each other and i will not be a pawn in their silly game, i simply will not have it. I do not want any part of it but the least i can do now is make this man breakfast because he is obviously starving then send him back to his wife.