Twisted

8: Unfinished Business

This chapter is written in third person's POV

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Earlier, 3:56 am:

He walks into the hotel room, a black nylon containing suya wrapped in newspaper, in the grip of his left hand. His eyes go to Nabila who is sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room, clothed in a white robe, right legs crossed over the left, arms resting on the armrest.

"Welcome back," She says in Hausa, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Thank you," He replies, matching her energy.

She rises from the chair. "Have you seen the time?"

"Yes. I have a wristwatch on." He drops the nylon on the nightstand and proceeds to take off his shoes.

"And you think it's right to leave your pregnant wife all alone and return at this time,"

"I'm sorry for coming home this late, but I don't want to fight. I got you suya," He causally says, avoiding his tone from sounding hostile.

She furrows her brows, her rage starting to form. "Suya? Is that supposed to erase the fact that you put your phone on DND and you aired my messages? What were you doing?!" She makes her way over to him as he takes off his shirt, "Who were you with? I called Deji and he said he didn't know where you were, so where were you!?"

"Beve– Nabila, I'm not twelve years old," He quickly covers, hoping she didn't catch the slip-up, "For fucks sake there was a fight outside the club–" He started to make up a lie and she cut him off.

"—Oh, you're a lawyer now? An activist? Freedom fighter? I'm your wife! The least you could do was keep me updated, but no... you aired me like you weren't gonna come and sleep next to me..." She pauses and tries to put 'two-and-two' together, "Or maybe you weren't thinking of coming home!"

"Bloody hell, why wouldn't I come home to you? You're my wife!" He is starting to raise his voice, too.

"I don't feel like it!" She shouts back.

"Well, maybe if you pipe down on your insecurities, you'll realize all I did was go out like a normal man,"

"And returned like an abnormal one... because last I checked, married men don't come home this late,"

He massages between his brows, slightly getting annoyed. "I left the house late... I'm bound to return late. Deji said he didn't know of my whereabouts because he left to God knows where,"

"Who were you with and why did you air my messages?"

"Walahi, I was with Yusuf the entire time you were calling non-stop, and there was no way I could hear you in a club... I wasn't with anyone else,"

She shakes her head and scoffs. "And my texts?"

"It was chaotic, I could read," He honestly replies, "Look, I know it's hard to trust me after what happened but I promise you, I've been faithful ever since," He covers the space between him and a fuming Nabila —her chest heaving up and down— looks like she's recalling the day she caught him with his secretary three months into their marriage. He never had a sexual relationship with the Caucasian woman, it was 'just a blow job' as he tagged it and that was the 'first time'... a time Nabila just so happened to pay him a 'surprise' visit at the office.

To him, that cheating was justified because the marriage held no value to him, but to her, it was a lot because she was head over heels in love with him... the moment the veil came off her face and their eyes met at the Nikkah...she fell, so, it's hard to wrap her head around him with any woman that isn't her.