I Chose My Lover Over My Dying Wife / Chapter 4: Secrets, Sickness, and the Call
I Chose My Lover Over My Dying Wife

I Chose My Lover Over My Dying Wife

Author: Courtney Lee


Chapter 4: Secrets, Sickness, and the Call

After she divorce her ex-husband, she bring her daughter Halima return Naija. As divorced woman with pikin, no man to help, she come beg me help her find house and work…

For this our country, divorced woman dey suffer. People go gossip, talk say she carry bad luck. I fit see the pain for Morayo face that time. I tell am, "No worry, God dey."

At first, I dey keep my distance, as I still be married man. But small small, I relax, begin dey close to Morayo, like say we dey secondary school again. Her soft way and helplessness just dey make me wan protect her forever.

Her laugh dey make my chest light. I dey remember all those old days for Ibadan, when we go fetch water together after school. Life no hard that time. Now, as we dey meet again, na like second chance for me.

At first, I dey tell my wife say I just dey help old friend. But later, I dey spend more time with Morayo, less time for house. If my wife call, I go just talk say I dey work overtime.

Na so wahala dey start. For Naija, lie dey move small small until e go burst like tyre. My wife sharp, she sabi me well. Sometimes she go call me, ask, "Kunle, you dey sure say you dey office?"

Until my wife waka come office, see me and Morayo dey hug for car park, all my lie burst. She slap me two times, shout like mad person:

People for office look, but nobody talk. My wife no dey joke. Her voice loud, echo for whole building. That slap pain, but the shame pain me pass.

“Who be this woman? Kunle! Why you dey lie for me!”

My wife dey craze, Morayo dey hide for my arms, dey worry for me—both of them just different. Suddenly, I begin think: why I no fit divorce, go meet Morayo?

I dey see pain for my wife face, but I no fit leave Morayo. My mind just dey scatter like leaf for Harmattan breeze—light, forgotten.

But I chase the thought commot. Na my wife, even when I no get anything, still marry me. Na her papa help me, connect me, give me money, na why I reach where I dey today. We don get pikin, Tobi. How I go just leave my wife for one old love? First love na just memory, I don cross line already.

For Yoruba tradition, dem go tell you, "No bite the hand wey feed you." My wife papa treat me like son, so the guilt dey heavy well.

I go house, kneel down beg my wife, swear say I go cut off from Morayo, beg her make she forgive me. That day, my wife cry tire. In the end, she say she go forgive, but still dey talk, “How I take blind fall for you…?”

Her tears full everywhere. My son, Tobi, just dey corner dey look. The house cold, like no joy dey again. That night, I no sleep at all.

But her heart no gree rest. She still love me. I apologize to Morayo, delete her number, but I no block am. I return to good husband and father. Our house quiet, but peace dey.

Sometimes, at night, I go dey look Morayo old message for my phone. I dey miss her, but I hold myself. I dey pray make time heal everything.

But not long after, as my wife dey tidy study, she see the 365 love letters I write give Morayo for secondary school, wey I still keep. She vex, her heart wahala start, me and my son rush am go hospital. But on the way, Morayo call me. For phone, her voice dey shake, sound pitiful:

Na so trouble dey pile for one day. As I dey drive, Tobi dey pray for back, "God, abeg, make Mama no die." But my phone ring, wahala double.

“Kunle, you fit come? Person dey knock my door, I dey alone, I dey fear.”

As I hear am, my heart just skip. I remember two recent robbery for area, my mind just cut. For that moment, I nearly lose control, wan rush go Morayo place. But my son Tobi dey back seat, dey hold my wife wey don faint. As I look mirror, I see Tobi face full of tears, my wife white like chalk, so I grit my teeth, talk for phone:

“Sorry, I get something. Lock yourself for room, call police.”

My hand dey shake for steering, but my head dey hot. I no even know wetin to do again. I just dey drive, dey pray for miracle.

I focus, speed go hospital.

“Ah…Kunle, I dey fear…”

I hear her scream for phone.

“Kunle, you no want me again? If something do me today, you go remember me forever, sob sob…”

I even dey hear as person dey knock her door for phone. Each knock dey hit my heart.

For Naija, if woman dey beg man like that, e mean say her spirit don weak. I dey feel helpless, but I just dey drive, dey hope say God go help us all.

“……”

I match brake, park for roadside, come down, open back door. “Tobi, carry your mama come down. I don call keke for una. Carry her go hospital, I go join una soon.”

My voice sharp, I no even fit look Tobi face.

I dey try play papa, but for my mind, shame dey bite me. I sabi say I dey do wrong, but love dey blind man eye sometimes.

“You dey go meet that woman again? The person wey dey die now na your wife!”

Tobi shout, shock. I look up, pretend say I no see him tears, try reason with am:

The boy voice crack, pain dey for every word. If not for public place, maybe he for throw punch. I just dey stand like tree, no fit move.

“I don call keke for you. Your Aunty Morayo dey danger too. Tobi, this one na life matter, abeg understand.”

I know say I wrong, but I no fit help am. I no fit let anything do my moon, else I go regret forever.

Guilt dey my heart, but I stubborn. Na so Yoruba man dey behave sometimes, e go just dey stand ground, even if e dey wrong.

We just dey look each other for three minutes. As I no gree drive, Tobi just carry him mama, waka commot.

That silence get weight. Only God know wetin the boy dey plan for mind. I dey fear say our relationship no go ever repair again.

“Keke go soon reach?”

I dey rush, no mind as Tobi face dey cold, I enter car, drive off with heavy heart. That moment, my worry for Morayo pass my wife own. I just tell myself say my wife sickness, e go dey okay.

Inside my chest, fear dey. But I dey deceive myself, talk say nothing go happen. For Lagos, if you let fear swallow you, you no go survive.

I rush reach Morayo house, knock. She open, jump enter my arms, her body dey smell nice. I surprise as I feel happy say I get her back. E come be say na false alarm; na drunk man from upstairs knock wrong door. Me and Morayo hug, one thing lead to another, we enter bed. That moment, I forget family, forget right and wrong, just dey happy say I get her again.

As we dey lie down, na so mosquito dey hum for room, but I no mind. Her laugh, her skin—e dey make me forget my wahala. For that moment, na only me and her dey exist.

Until Morayo open my belt, kneel down. Suddenly, my phone ring, spoil everything.

The sound cut through my joy like cutlass. I fear pick am, but I gats.

“Mama no make am. She die five minutes ago.”

For phone, Tobi voice just dey calm, no emotion. My wife don go.

The line cold, no sound. I fit hear my own heart dey beat. For my mind, na thunder just strike.

For Naija, when rain fall, e no dey select roof.

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