The Turbulence✔️ (#1 in the Our Side of The Dice series)

11: The Conversation

I knew she couldn't settle for less after everything she'd been through so much.

So she chose me because she felt like I would treat her like the Queen she was. But now that I've ruined everything, what is going to happen?

Now, I will never be able to look at her, hold her arms, hug her and be there for her. My demons will taunt me with images of a woman with blazing red lipstick, me waking up stark naked in a foreign room, being kissed by a woman who wasn't my wife, ending up in jail for breaking the impeccable reputation I was supposed to have as a businessman. All because I'd succumbed to alcohol and let it make a mockery of me.

Those images will remind me why I don't deserve to be with a woman like Yemisi.

Darn it!

The stack of papers around me goes flying weightlessly in the air as I fling them away from the table, filled with rage. Sitting in my office and trying to use business to suppress the overwhelming emotions that I feel has clearly not been working. Only Yemisi has a mastery of such things, but I know I'm a failure.

An all-around failure.

Even in my business, I could not exercise simple self-control, so much for a reputable business person. I can't face anyone —my wife, my step-children, that intruder, and even my employees!

Oh.

But there's someone I can face — the woman who made me like this. Certainly, I can face her, and I will.

Quickly, I reach for my phone on my desk, thankful that it didn't fly into thin air like the stack of papers because, unlike those lightweight materials, that would have been the end of my phone. I put in the digits and dialed her number. Thankfully, she wastes no second in picking my call as soon as it rings.

"My dear, dear son. Christopher Chukwueze! It's been a while! Now that you have decided to give me a call today, Is there a pro—"

"Mummy, the lady you betrothed me to, was able to figure out my whereabouts, and she is here in Germany, doing her best to destroy my marriage, " I interrupt her crappy talk.

Or maybe you're the one destroying it?

Shut it, you monster!

"Wow! Jehovah'mela! That is very great, my son. You shouldn't push her away, okay?"

"What?! Are you not going to do anything about this? Won't you make her stay away? Won't you do everything in your power to call off the engagement you established? Won't you find her dad so we can pay off the debt? Won't you?"

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"Hmm. Why don't you try calling off the engagement yourself if you badly want to stay faithful to your wife? Find Irene's Dad by yourself and pay off the debt if that's the case. Hapu m aka!"

"I would have done that if I could, " my hand balled into a very tight fist. "I have never met Irene's Dad. You were the one who had an issue with him, and it's only reasonable that I ask you to solve the problem you created. Irene is doing the most, making it seem like we were naturally meant to be ever since the betrothal without the existence of a financial problem."

"Because that is what it is. Stick with her and give me grandchildren. If you can't call off the betrothal, don't ask me to do it."

"Why do you hate Yemisi so much?"

Another tear slipped down my cheek.

"Because she is vulgar and mannerless. She's a sneaky snake and has managed to make you turn your back against me. All those Yoruba women are the worst! Ekwensu! She's very arrogant and—"

"You are just scared of her. That's it. You can't stand a fierce woman who sticks to her standards. You expect her to be submissive to you when you are undeserving of it. You expect her to be weak, to automatically love, trust, and respect you simply because you are her mother-in-law when you have done nothing to earn those things.

You expect her to succumb to your wishes and commands. You expect her to bow down to you and give you grandchildren because that is what she is supposed to do as my wife. You—"

"If you so dearly love your wife, then go talk to her about your betrothed lover then. She's a lawyer, after all. She should be able to help you call off the wedding. You should be able to do that, right?"

"Mum, you don't understand that you are the one who should fix this—"

"Admit it that you are also scared of your wife. I can even hear the tears in your voice, " she laughed like the psychopath that she was.
"I bu onye ujo. You are a coward."

"Yes, mom. Yes, I am a coward, just like you are because you unknowingly admitted that you are also scared of my wife. I took after you mom because you are handling this situation in the dumbest way possible.

You were the one who put me in this mess in the first place, and now, it's hard for you to get in touch with Irene's father so I can pay off the debt. Now you are using this as an excuse to stay on Irene's side and as the perfect timing to take my wife out of the picture."

"Shut your mouth and ACT LIKE A MAN, Christopher!"

"NO! YOU ACT LIKE A MOTHER BECAUSE IT'S CLEAR THAT YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A GOOD MOTHER, AND YOU KNOW WHAT?" I raise my voice back at her since she's signed up for the yelling game. Conversing with her was always so maddening and draining.

"I regret being your son because all you do is make my life miserable and make me do things that you don't care to know if I'm happy about or not. So long as it satisfies you, you force me to do it—everything even up to the business I'm doing now. You never let me do what I want. Whenever I do what I want, you look for a way to put an end to it. I hate you so much."

With that, I end the call. Heavy tears fall down my cheeks.

Darn it! Darn it! Darn it!

I want to throw more objects, but someone comes to my mind, and the image of that person overshadows my boiling rage.

Damian. That bastard.

He owes me a serious explanation for what happened at the police station because I was sure it was his number I dialed that day. I need to know why Irene came to bail me out that day. Where the hell was he? What did he do? What is his relationship with Irene? I need to know all of these things.

"Tell Mr. Damian to come to my office right now, " I order my secretary as soon as I pick the landline.

"He's absent, sir, " he answers.

"What?! How come?"

"He took sick leave, sir."

"And he didn't inform me?" my eyebrows shoot up. "Do not fail to inform me about his presence when he comes back to the office."

"Yes, sir."

As I end the call, I cover my face with my palms, livid and weak as the tears continue to pour. I was just angry but not intensely enough to want to change the situation of things. As always, I've always been such a weakling, and I can't even do anything to help myself despite being aware of who I am. I'm watching my life fall apart, and I have no idea what to do to stand on my feet.

This is who I will always be.

A coward.