Hitting my alarm clock firmly, I grudgingly got out of bed. The alarm had been ringing for almost ten minutes. Slipping on my slippers, I headed for the bathroom. I noticed Layefa had already gotten out of bed. Strange, I thought. My husband, Layefa, had never been a morning person. I practically have to drag him out of bed every morning.
“Baby? You there?” I called pushing open the bathroom door. I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. Layefa was not in the bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth, rinsed my face and headed out of the bedroom.
“Baby!” I called from the top of the stairs. Every moment seemed even stranger because the entire house felt silent. I couldn’t even hear Layefa’s footsteps. Stealing a glance at wall clock in the hallway, I hurriedly went to get ready for work. After I had showered and thrown on a shirt and slacks, I still hadn’t seen or worse, heard Layefa. Fear started to kick in, so I dialed his cell phone number as I walked down the stairs. The truth of the matter was I was scared he was lying unconscious in the kitchen or something like that. When he finally picked up after what seemed like a thousand rings, I breathlessly cried, “Baby! Where the hell are you?” “Morning, Dee. I just got to work now. I’m parking my car.”, He replied calmly like all was well. All was certainly not well if my husband for about 1200 days suddenly decides he wants to be an early riser without telling me!
“What? Why? I don’t understand” I stammered. His calm tone was irritating me more than he could ever imagine. Even if a person decided he wants to work on his new year’s resolution of waking up early in August, it doesn’t mean he should get to work before the doors open, does it? Hiss. “I got up early and I was like what the hell I might as well be heading for work already” Layefa said, like he was explaining as gently as he possibly could. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? Didn’t you think I’d be worried?” I said with voice rising. “Why would you be worried? Where else would I go on a Monday morning?” he said as if I was crazy. “What the-”. Is this guy mad? How dare he suggest that I was stupid to worry? I’ve chopped in my life oh. So much for caring about your husband. “Seriously though, your paranoia getting extreme, Dee” he continued adding that he had to go but would call me back later.
“Oh no he didn’t!” I muttered flinging my phone to the floor. I stomped to the kitchen to start my coffee. Coffee is turning out to be my new best friend. Really. I remembered those days when Layefa and I were like twins. We were so inseparable. I didn’t need coffee then. All I had to do was hold on to the number 2 button (even my mom’s speed dial was number three!) on my mobile phone and Layefa’s ‘sup shaaawty’ would make everything better. As I poured my coffee, I wondered what could have warranted such arrant disrespect from my usually considerate Layefa.
“Hey Delores!” Tunde from accounting called, spotting me as the elevator doors opened. I held the elevator while he hurried to meet me. “Tunde, how far now?” I greeted as he slipped into the elevator. “I dey oh. How was your weekend?” he replied all smiles. The guy was just cheery fellow. His niceness got on my nerves sometimes but I couldn’t help returning his courtesies. “It was alright. Yours?” I said. “I went to Abuja with my nephew for the NSSBC. He even won the MVP award.” He replied smiling p to his eyes. Eeyahh, how nice. I thought. “Awww. That’s nice. Which one is NSSBC again?” I said trying my best to seem genuinely happy. After Layefa’s drama that morning, even Basketmouth would have a hard time trying to get me to smile.
“Basketball championship. It really was nice.” Tunde replied. I nodded just as the elevator door opened on my floor. “See you around” Tunde called as I waved goodbye.
I practically ran to my office to escape any more how was your weekends.
After I was settled in the safety of my office, I pulled out my mobile phone. I was almost tempted to call Layefa and give him a piece of my mind. I waited for him to call me back all through the drive from our house to my office. He didn’t. And the drive wasn’t some fast fifteen minute drive oh. I sat in my car, stuck in traffic for over an hour listening to Dan foster bitch about football players on Inspiration FM. My darling husband did not call me oh. Well, if he wasn’t gonna call me, I wouldn’t either. He needed to know how vexed I was. Now I know why people say that those we care about the most are the ones that have the power to hurt us.
I paced about my office for a few minutes before anger got the better of me. I snatched my phone from the table and called Layefa.
“You said you were gonna call me” I said once he picked up. “Hey baby!” he answered like I hadn’t said anything. Did he really not know how big of a deal this was to me?
“You didn’t call me back.” I said again. “Oh. Yeah. I’m still working on those Fashola files” he said, “Besides; I was chilling for you to finish vexing”.