By the time I got home, Bukola had already cooked my favorite meal and dressed in a lingerie! She opened the door and smiled warmly.
I was stunned, but I couldn't resist her warm smile. I tried my best to pretend by ignoring her as soon as she opened the door.
As I walked away from my room door, she stood behind me and hugged me. She knelt on the floor crying and apologized for her behavior and promised she would not repeat what she had done to me earlier.
Well, I missed her. I turned to lift her off the floor as she knelt.
Did I let go of what happened?
Yes! At that time, I just wanted to be with Bukola. Also, she apologized.
It became a routine in the relationship that whenever she physically or emotionally abuses me, she plays the victim and I have to forgive her and let things go.
The relationship started to become toxic for me.
I got a call from a friend who had just came into the country after a long time and wanted to see me. Perhaps, I will take him for sightseeing since he hasn't been in the country for a while. When I got up to get dressed, Bukola was behind me, listening to the conversation I just had.
Was this your act necessary? I asked her rhetorically.
You are definitely going to see another woman and I won't let that happen. Bukola said in a way that she could beat me up if I utter any word again.
I couldn't handle her drama. I ignored her, went to the table to get my car keys; as I headed towards the door, Bukola rushed over to me and tugged on my shirt.
I won't see another woman, Bukola! I screamed! Why will you eavesdrop in my telephone conversation in the first place? It already annoys me that you randomly check my phone. For the love of God, I'm not cheating on you. Please, let go of my shirt.
She tore my shirt and started crying. She called me by all kinds of names and labeled me as a liar and cheater. Why does she keep doing this? I said to myself. She will cause trouble and play the victim. Is she waiting for me to make an apology to her so that she stops crying?
Well, this time, I didn't care. I entered the room, changed my outfit and left the house. I heard her screams and cry when I got to the park.
You're "gonna" regret what you did to me! you're "gonna" regret what you did to me!!
She kept saying.
I couldn't tell my friends what had happened. Why should I? I will be called a coward anyway.