He held his head which was threatening to split into two, he turned to see Omoye still asleep on the bed, he winced as the headache brought more pain along with it.
He stood and noticed Victor was asleep beside Omoye on the bed, he had not had the opportunity to play with his son due to the turn out of events the previous day.
He felt like fainting as Omoye’s words repeated in his head, “I slept with him.” how could she claim that such an event had happened? His boss had assured him that he never slept with Omoye, now he was seriously confused as to whom he had to believe.
He knew he was supposed to believe Omoye even if it was based on the excuse that he still loved her, but the thought that she was probably hiding some information from him made him doubt her story.
Another reason why he was hesitant about believing her story was because he did not want to cogitate on the fact that his Boss had actually slept with her, it was easier for him to hold on to his Boss’ story, that way it gave him that assurance that Omoye had not been accessed in private places by another man.
He came out of the room and unintentionally scared two hens that were outside his room, he got to the well and got some water, he had not even changed his clothes yesterday.
Why was his life in so much chaos? Why was he always getting into one dilemma after the other? Why did life have to be unfair? He could not help but ponder why he was always in a mess.
He remembered the sorry look he had seen on Omoye’s face when she opened up to him, how she had closed her eyes and shielded herself from him like she was scared he was going to hit her.
He felt like crying when he noticed it, she had hurt him but he would never lay a finger on her, he had noticed that and had momentarily forgotten about her confession, all he could think of was the fact that he needed a break.
Now that he thought of it, his break was equivalent to silliness, he had lay on the bed in an attempt to think things through and had eventually slept off only to wake this morning with a headache that was bent on reducing the number of human species on planet earth by one.
If he had been awake, how would he have addressed the situation? He had no idea what he would have done but he was confident that it would have gone a long way in unravelling this mystery.
Had his boss really slept with his woman? Who was deceiving who? And who was being deceived?
He equally had no answer to the questions he asked himself, one thing he knew was that the answers were in the hands of Omoye and his boss, all he wanted them to do was tell him what was really going on or rather what had happened.
He carried the bucket full of water and had a quick bath in the bathroom, whatever the case he had made up his mind he would have to see his boss and probe him further only after he had asked Omoye some vital questions.
He wore his trousers and hung his shirt on his shoulder, he had not bothered taking a towel along and had simply showered without soap.
He entered his room and picked his phone, it would be wise if he sent his boss a text or called him that he needed to see instead of paying a suprise visit.
He had learnt that not all suprise visits where necessary and they could pose more problems if possible, he unlocked his phone to find two text messages, one from his service provider which he hurriedly deleted.
The second message however was from someone he least expected, he had sent her messages a couple of times, he had tried calling her severally and now that life had saddled him with problems, she had decided to reply him finally.
He opened the text and it was as though his sub-conscious was reading the message out to tell him that he was really in deep shiit.
The contents of the text were:
*Fola, I really wish I could see you and give you a kick in your groins, but sadly I can’t. You not only hurt me, you did it on purpose. We need to talk, and you have to come to Lagos or I come to Benin, the choice is yours. Take your pick.
What? Sandra wanted to see him, there was no trace of love or care or even sadness in that text, all he could sense was anger, revenge, madness. What was Sandra upto? Not that he could blame her, he knew he deserved and had earned whatever she would do to him but the truth was he was not mentally ready for such, here he was still trying to settle the issue he had within his household only for nemesis to play a fast one on him.
He sent a text to his boss informing him of his intending visit, stealing a quick glance at Omoye and remembering Sandra’s text did nothing to help his headache. But try as much as he did, he could not stop thinking about it.
He felt someone pull his trousers, what? Victor was awake, when did the champ get up from the bed?
He lifted his son up and rubbed his hand against the boy’s head playfully only to get a frown in return.
“Daddy, why did you beat mummy?” his son asked.
A question that got him dumbfounded.