Desperate For Love Chapter 7
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???????? Desperate For Love Chapter Seven:
I didn’t want to talk to her on phone. So, I invited her to my house after work. When she came, I offered her a glass of water, before we began talking.
“There is no easy way to say it, Flore.” I began. “I am a happily married man now.”
“So, it is true.”
“Yes, it is.” I said, showing her my wedding ring. “I am sorry.”
“Where does that leave us now?” She was sobbing now softly, and looked like she would drop dead at any minute.
“I am sorry, Flore but, this is the end of the road for us.” I said with a lot of difficulty.
“What do you mean by that, John?”
“I mean I am breaking up with you. It’s over Florence. Time to move on.” I declared.
“You can’t do this to me, John. You know how much I love you. How do you want me to go about life now? What becomes of me?” She was weeping seriously.
“You are a beautiful girl, Florence, and an intelligent, calm and hardworking one. You will find a good man who will give you the love I never gave. As for me, I am someone’s property now.”
“But it’s you I want.” She interrupted. “I have never known any man before except you. Why have you complicated my life like this?”
“I understand, Florence, but there is nothing either of us can do now. Please, just let it go. You are still young and beautiful. Many men would want to have you.” I tried to make her see reason.
“You took my virginity, John. You promised to marry me, you did.” She reminded me.
“Yes, I did. But don’t forget I was under the influence of sex when I did that. Please, don’t hold it against me. I still love you, but as it is, in this life what you want is not always what you get. I am so sorry.” I explained.
“Where is your wife?”
“She will be moving in with me soon, permanently.” I told her.
She fell on the ground and started crying. I tried to calm her to no avail. You really can’t blame Florence. She was that kind of person who didn’t love the way other people loved. To her, love was serious business. Love was all consuming and she invested everything when she loved someone. She was that kind of person who couldn’t give her body to someone else when she was in love with another person. Unfortunately for her, I was a direct opposite of her. Why do good girls always meet bad men?
“John, please, I want to ask a favour from you.” She spoke.
“Ask”
“Please, don’t say no to what I want to say.”
“I can’t promise you that but, just go ahead and ask.” I was frank with her.
“Please, take me as a second wife. I can’t do without you. I can’t live without you, please.”
“I am sorry, it’s against my religion and culture to take a second wife. I cannot do that.”
“Okay, keep me as a concubine or a side chick, please. I need something to hold on to. I want to stay by you always.” She pleaded.
“I cannot do that. I was a playboy, no doubt about that. However, now I am married. I want to be faithful to my wife.” I was adamant.
“Alright, please, get me pregnant. Let me carry your child. Let me have your child. The child will be a remembrance, evidence and a testimony of my true and undiluted love for you.”
“I am sorry, I can’t do that. It goes against my religious doctrines and traditional values. Please, reason with me.”
At last, Florence heaved a sigh of exasperation and resignation. She was frustrated but didn’t know what else to do or say. She got up from the floor when she had been sitting, looked at me straight in my eyes and spoke.
“Goodbye, John. Goodbye, my love. I did everything within my power but it didn’t work out for me. Your heart is with someone else. Thank you for all the good times and bad times. I will hold the memories we had, dear to my heart because I am not sure I will ever be able to love any man again. You have destroyed my love. Goodbye!!” She said sorrowfully, picked her handbag and left.
I watched her as she left. She was so broken that she could barely even walk. I offered to drive her home, but she didn’t even respond. That was the last I saw of her in a while because two days later, my wife moved in with me. I didn’t ever go to check on Florence again, neither did I call her. I wanted her to heal peacefully. I didn’t want to complicate her healing process.
I was now living with my wife and everything was moving swimmingly. Then one day, when I was at work, my gossipy neighbours told her that I was bringing a woman to the house. They told her everything about Florence. When I got back there was a huge fight between us. She rained insults at me and threatened to divorce me if she ever caught me with a woman now that we were legally married. She was a stark contrast to Florence. While Florence gave me absolute respect, love and care, my wife made life a living hell for me.
Solange, Florence’s friend called me one day and told me Florence was sick and had been admitted to hospital. I would have loved to go see her but I couldn’t for fear of my wife. There was no knowing how many spies she might have kept to watch my movements and activities. So, I stayed away form Florence. Two days later, Solange called again to tell me that she was better now and had been discharged. I was happy to hear that because that meant I didn’t need to go see her again.
It had been a month now, and my relationship with my wife had improved considerably. One day, she told me she was going to see an aunt of hers who lived in the capital city. She asked me to give her three hundred thousand. I did give her the money without any hesitation because I didn’t want her trouble. With her being out of town, it was the perfect opportunity for me to try and see how Florence was doing, but I didn’t. I was scared of her reaction. I didn’t want her to start crying all over again.
My wife came back a week earlier than she had stated that she would. I was surprised she came that early. She didn’t even tell me that she was on her way. Instead, when she came, she blamed me for not making sure that there was something to eat at home. I asked her why she came earlier than she had stated and she told me that I was not a policeman. She said she was tired and hungry too. She went into the kitchen, prepared food herself, ate and went to bed. Before she went to the bedroom, she told me that she had missed me and that I should join her in bed soon. I knew what she wanted. That was all she was interested in.
I sat in the living room and wondered why my new marriage was turning this bad. I wondered what could be the cause. Was it because of Florence? Was it because of the way I treated her? I had really treated her badly. Had she cursed me to suffer for eternity? But she hadn’t uttered any curses against me. In spite of the fact that she was very heartbroken, she was not the kind of person who would lay curses on someone. She would prefer to suffer alone in silence. I prayed earnestly to God to change things in my marriage, and for Florence to be happy. I missed her terribly and promised myself that I was going to look for a means to see her. My wife was causing me too much trouble.
After work the next day. I tried to call her, but her number didn’t go through. I went to her workplace but I was told she hadn’t been to work in a while. She had called in sick and her boss had given her some days off. I called her sister, Belinda, and for obvious reasons, she didn’t pick. I drove to their house but their front door was locked and there was no one home. I was frustrated, and decide to drive home before my wife started wondering why I hadn’t come home. When I got home, my wife wasn’t home, which was a relief to me. I wasn’t prepared for her trouble. I was going into the kitchen to get some food to eat when my phone rang. I picked and it was Solange. She was crying.
“What is it, Solange? What is wrong? Why are you crying?” I asked, afraid.
“I am calling from the hospital, John. It’s bad, very bad. Florence is dead.”
TO BE CONTINUED
