Hey guys, it’s been almost a month!😮 I knew I’d be gone but I didn’t think it would be that long. I just needed to get myself together and be certain I wasn’t just writing out of routine or making it a chore. As much as this is free prose fiction, I also want to ensure it’s worth it. That’s the only way I can ever be taken seriously and your money (no matter how small) would be worth it. Anyway, I am back.Yaay. I think I found my muse (nah it’s not a boy, I’m still single to stupor 😂) it’s the Ibadan air. Like I literally stepped into this city yesterday and from the moment my eyes caught the sight of fresh tomatoes, rodo and tatase spread out for sale and the smell of smoked fish and fresh goat meat wafted into my nostrils, I knew the muse was back. So here I am with SDC episode 9. I can’t promise when Eyin Ese will be back though but enjoy SDC meanwhile. Let’s catch up on it.
PS: Every single person that checked up on me on Instagram, via Email and comments here, thank you so much.💖 It made me feel good to know some people do look out for me. God bless you.💕
To refresh your memories, you can read Episode 8 of SDC HERE
You know that feeling you get when you knock some random chic up and then realize she purposely set you up with the pregnancy because she wanted to snatch you from her cousin you were sleeping with?
Well, fair enough. You have to actually do this extremely stupid thing I did to actually understand.
I lean over in my room to grab my newly acquired custom made socks. It is a pair of socks I got from a famous designer of socks in Kenya and the design is hundred percent me.
That’s the thing with success; you wear your own designs on expensive outfits and socks, you live in a huge house with an amazing view and you get bitches falling over themselves to get your sperm in their Uterus.
Cynthia strolls into the room, her eyes briefly settling on my socks before looking in my eyes.
“AKT, you know we should go to this wedding together…” she quickly adds when she sees the frown on my face, “As a couple”.
“I’m the Best Man, we cannot go as a couple” I mutter, slip my feet into my patent Italian shoes which cost me thousands of dollars and grab my Armani suit which is lying on a chair in front of the dressing mirror Cynthia has now made hers.
She has gradually moved all her things into my house. At first it was because she needed extra things and then, it was because her father was behaving “somehow” to her because she got pregnant for a man she’s not married to.
I know there is some sort of silent war going on between she and her cousin and I know the only reason that one hasn’t come here to cause more trouble is because I sternly warned the security guys not to ever let her through.
I still haven’t gotten over the last time they created so much commotion in my house.
Thinking about that moment still makes my stomach turn.
I take a last look at my reflection in the mirror before heading out. Cynthia is behind me, saying something about wanting to go to the Spa and get a facial before coming to the wedding. She also says something about the Reception and having me call a celebrity stylist to come style her.
“Do what you have to do” I say to her, pick Steve’s call as I step into the cold morning.
The weather is slightly chilly; it rained heavily last night and I had to bury myself deep under the heavy blanket in my bedroom because it was cold all through the night.
Cynthia had snuck in at night and I had been too nice to ask her to leave.
Talking about leaving, my Driver pulls up right in front of me and hands me the key to the Lamborghini I am driving to the Church for Kaycee and Steve’s wedding.
“Have a nice day, boss” he says and I wave in response. Hopping into the front seat, I start playing Wizkid’s Ojuelegba as I speed out of my compound into my Estate and I get ready for my first ever Best Man role.
I have been a groomsman many times in the past and these days, people keep asking me when “mine” will be.
Most times, I laugh my way out of the wedding conversation, other times, I feign phone calls and leave. As I navigate the main road now, I weigh my two options; laugh or feign phone call.
Truth is, I am not exactly in a good mood to laugh the conversation away. Since Cynthia and her cousin revealed my stupidity to me a week before, I have been in a permanent bad mood.
How did I get trapped in a situation only meant for Telenovelas?
Of course I shouldn’t have fucked Cynthia like that. I shouldn’t have just grabbed her and buried my cock inside her like a coffin six feet under. I shouldn’t have tossed my common sense away, now my life is something made for TV.
I recall the conversation I had with Cynthia shortly after her cousin showed up in my house and revealed the whole situation to us all.
“I gave you 2k to buy Postinor or whatever women buy these days. Last I checked, that was more than enough to buy three packs of that drug, yet you chose not to.” I said to her, my hands stuck in the pockets of my grey slacks because I didn’t trust them not to do anything foolish.
“I forgot” she said and I saw through her. She was a liar. She hadn’t forgotten, she had consciously chosen to get pregnant.
I had walked into her trap and she’d been lucky because I had ditched my common sense like a 3 year old would a toy he was tired of.
“AKT, let’s just accept this is how God wants it” she said, her hands holding mine gently.
“You are the God of this situation” I replied, trying hard to keep my raging anger under control. She leaned closer, her cologne almost choking me. It was then I realized all the times I thought she smelt familiar, it was because she actually smelt like her cousin I used to fuck.
“Ahn ahn, I am not the God of this situation. Stop saying it like that” she sulked, her lips brushing my neck.
I gently shoved her off me, “You’re not? Yet you singlehandedly decided my fate in this matter” I had almost made it out of the door when she said to me, “AKT, I didn’t stick your cock inside my pussy though. You did that all by yourself”.
My heart began to beat faster than the beat of a 90s Rap music, my fists clenched in my pockets and my feet aching to cover the distance between us so I could grab her by the neck and yell all the hateful words I could think of to her.
“Stop blaming me for a decision we made together”
“I didn’t make the decision to get you pregnant, that was you”
“So why did you sleep with me without protection?” before I could answer, she continued, “Did you do it at gunpoint? Did I ask you to do it? did you even know me enough to take that risk? Anything happens when a man has unprotected sex, babe. At least be happy I didn’t give you STDs” as she strolled out of the room, I realized this was probably the biggest mistake of my life.
I park in a spot in the Church and head towards Steve. We were initially supposed to arrive in Church together but he told me to come since the Church was closer to me.
“Guy, happy married life” I say and we shake hands and hug.
We banter and take selfies with the grooms men some of which are family and the rest close friends before we get ready to enter the Church.
“Fam, she looks so beautiful” Steve says about a picture of Kaycee she just sent to him. It’s just her face showing but she looks so gorgeous I understand why Steve stood no chance with her.
As we prepare to enter the Church, Steve says to me, “Thanks for changing your mind”
He is talking about the Best Man duty I finally chose to take and I smile, “What are bros for?”
Truth is, I called him back to ask if he had gotten a Best Man a week ago and he said not yet. I had apologized and offered myself again because Cynthia was hell bent on coming with me and I needed an excuse to not have her on my arm.
I am being nice to her because she is carrying my child and I am to be blamed for how she got into my life in the first place.
After the vows have been exchanged and we’re walking down the aisle behind the couple, the maid of honor, some hot, drop dead gorgeous girl who Kaycee picked because her cousin Kofo wouldn’t say yes, slips her phone into my pocket.
“Hold it” she mouths when I cock an eyebrow to ask why she’s giving me her phone. And before I can ask anything else, she looks away from me and concentrates on the beautiful bride.
My eyes catch Sarah just as we step outside and it takes a lot not to walk over to where she’s standing and kiss her senseless.
“Sarah” I call and honestly, I cannot explain why it is becoming increasingly hard to keep my hands off her body. “Hey”
She smiles, her red lips instantly taking me away from the noise around me and losing me in a world where none of the things that make up my reality exist.
I know I should say something more, but I just stand there, looking at her, taking in her beautiful features and the way the silk dress she’s wearing clings to her like second skin.
I have stood in front of her for all of two seconds but I can describe that dress in my sleep. Actually, I have given it a name of my own; coat of arms. The thin straps are the branches, the plunging neckline the tail that runs low, flaunting smooth fresh boobs I want to gather in my hand like the juicy fruits of an orange tree.
I manage to drag my attention from her body, especially since I have noticed she is not wearing a Bra.
“You haven’t been picking my calls” I say to her.
She’s about to answer when Scott rears his ugly head. Don’t blame me, any man who does that while I am trying to talk to my object of interest is automatically seen as ugly.
“Hi AKT” Scott says with a smile, his hand easily falling into place around Sarah’s waist. “Good to see you”
It takes a lot not to walk away. We shake hands and talk about nothing, both of us aware the beautiful woman in front of us is the reason we’re even trying to make needless conversation in the first place.
“AKT” I turn around and find Cynthia grinning at me. “Hey babe” she says and kisses me on the lips before I can say anything.
“We have to go.” Scott says when I turn to face Sarah seconds after, “Sarah and I need to buy some things before heading to the Reception. Let’s go baby” he adds before grinning and pulling her away with him. The last thing I see before he whisks her out of sight are the pretty black stilettos she’s wearing.
Goodness, I want to fuck that girl and I know I won’t be okay until I actually do.
And I would.
Scott’s silent decree of ownership on her is the reason I would actually make sure I get her under me, in my bed, all naked while she screams my name as I thrust in and out of her.
“I have to go take pictures, Cynthia” I say to Cynthia and disappear through the crowd as I make my way towards Steve and Kaycee whom I know are waiting for me.
I know Scott did whatever he did earlier on purpose. It was some sort of silent war between him and AKT and as much as I felt flattered for two seconds, I knew for sure I didn’t appreciate him putting his hand around my waist like I was his property.
“You miss your boyfriend already?” he asks as we drive through the busy road towards the Store where he wants to pick up a few things.
“Your hands don’t belong around my waist though” I say to him, my eyes on the road. I am refusing eye contact with him because I worry it would lead to a fight or worse, an argument.
We have been having too much argument these days and I am becoming exhausted.
I’m tired of arguments and fights. My sister and her pervy husband have that at home all the time and quite frankly, all I want when I step outside the house is peace.
“We should be dating if you’d say yes” he says to me and I ignore him.
He’s been trying to get me to date him for a while now and I have been firm with my response. There have been boxes of chocolates, surprise cupcakes in white boxes, gorgeous designer shoes like the ones I am currently wearing and clothes I only dreamt of as a little girl sent to me at different times in the past week.
He was serious. He still is serious.
He places his hand on mine as we stop at a traffic light. “Sarah, give us a chance”
I glance at his handsome frame, he has this pleading look in his eyes that make me want to consider his request but I know it is a bad idea to do that.
I don’t know if I want to date Scott like a real boyfriend. I did have a crush on him once and if he’d asked me this at the beginning of our “relationship” I might have said a Yes.
But we did start with sex alone and too many times, I was warned not to ever drop hints that we were fucking.
It’s just hard to move from that.
“I don’t know” I say and I see a look of disappointment on his handsome face before I look away. My phone buzzes just as awkward silence descends upon us like the heavy torrents of rain on a stormy day.
Grateful for a distraction during such an awkward moment, I grab the phone.
It’s a message from AKT.
“What are you doing with him?”
I scoff before I type a quick response.
“How is that ur business? Don’t you have a baby mama to watch over?”
“He’s in the middle of a nasty divorce you don’t want to get caught up in that”
“And you’re in the middle of a nasty baby mama drama. Don’t throw stones, babe”
“I want you to call me babe when I make love to you”
I am thrown by his last message. I didn’t see that coming. Another message follows that almost immediately.
“I would really like to make love to you, Sarah”
I look up from my phone just in time to see an oncoming Truck facing us.
“Scott!” I scream in panic. The white airbags are the last form of light I see before the darkness overtakes me.