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“His Outrageous Wife” — A Short Story by Somtoochukwu Benedict Ezioha

Two different people sat down at the moment; one, a boy, and the other, a girl; one just bought a brand new car and sat in it, enjoying the wits that brought the car; one sat down with the picture of a sibling who just committed suicide, the pain twisting like a sharp knife; one was praised and revered; one had the cold eyes of vengeance.

This is a story about these two different people.
Destiny, for Nelson, was what you wanted it to be. You either had what it took to go to the next level, or you didn’t. Wasn’t there a saying about that… “we choose our own destinies…” So, as he drove into the new building he had just erected for his folks, he beamed smiles. He had achieved his destiny. It now remained the announcement he was to make. He pulled into the custom-made garage with motion sensors and air-conditioning, and parked his latest Mercedes-Benz, and stepped into his magnificent edifice.
As he went past the sliding door into the huge and tastefully furnished living room, his thoughts sauntered towards what he was about to tell his mother. For eight months, he had been ruminating on the best way to let her know; but in the end, it all boiled down to sitting down with her and letting her know that he had finally decided to get married. At age twenty-five. Quite a feat.
“You’re what?” his mother, a strict disciplinarian, questioned minutes later when he informed her about his intentions. She was a retired teacher who had certain unshakable principles, one of them concerning marriage.
“Yes, mother, I’m getting married,” Nelson calmly. He had anticipated this outburst from her, so was well-prepared for her.
“Whatever happened to getting your Masters Degree and getting married at thirty!” she exclaimed, flailing her hands in the air. Nelson was unperturbed; mother was always a dramatic person.
“Mother, I know I promised you that I would get my Masters before settling down, but I have found love. For the first time in my life, mom, I have found the woman of my dreams! I don’t want to lose her, that’s why I’m marrying her. Then, I’ll go back to school.”
“And you think it’s easy as you say? You think you would have the time, or be in the right frame of mind for education?” she queried, her face a mask of sarcasm.
“Well… of course. I have discussed it with her and she’s in total support. She’s not like all these Nigerian girls,” Nelson said remembering his last discussion with Sam.
“ ‘All these Nigerian—’ wait, isn’t she Nigerian?”
“Actually, she isn’t. She’s a British girl.”
“How did you happen to meet her?” Mrs. Godson asked. Suddenly, this her son’s balderdash about marriage was taking a wrong turn.
“We met online,” he replied, and at his mother’s quizzical look, he added, “she has visited me twice in Nigeria.”
“What do you know about her?” As Nelson was about to reply, she cut him off. “Of course there’s nothing of import that you do know about her. Just that she has a pretty face.”
“That’s not true Mom!” Nelson held his forehead as he strived to calm down. This was tougher than he thought. And it was only his mother. What would happen when he told his siblings?
His mother reclined on the expensive sofa and nodded at him. “Tell me what you know about her then.”
Nelson beamed and said, “Her name is Samantha Pocket. She’s an assistant director at an advertising agency in London. She’s twenty-eight and wants to settle down. We’re so much in love, mom. She’s kind, caring, funny, witty and exactly what I want in a woman.”
“Do you know what it takes for you to say you have finally known someone you want to marry here in Nigeria? Obviously you don’t. What about her family? Do they support your intended union?” she asked. She was getting exasperated by this whole issue. Maybe she should let him do whatever he likes. Ever since he made his money, he had proven to be a know-it-all.
“Her parents have consented to the marriage. As we speak, she’s currently on her way to Nigeria. Her parents will follow within weeks.”
As Mrs. Grace Godson looked at her son, she knew she was beaten. She no longer had the energy to enforce rules on them. Not since their father died of colon cancer six years ago. She sighed, and thought it was best she consented to his marriage—for he could very well marry her without her.
“My son,” she began, “I am your mother, and because of that, I’ll always tell you the truth. Marriage is not a fickle thing to be toyed with, but if you so desire that you want to get married, then I have no choice than to support you.”
Nelson had never felt happier in his life. Finally, things were moving! He was now sure he could convince his siblings with the backing of his mother. He went upstairs to freshen up, there were a lot of things to iron out first.
As she looked at the clouds outside the massive Boeing 747 airplane, she had the distinct feeling of being within her goal. Her father had been unconcerned when she told him that she would be traveling; ever since Rosalind died, he had acted like she didn’t exist any longer. Rosalind was the golden child, the apple of everyone’s eyes. And it had shattered him when she was gone. With both Rose and her mother gone, she had never felt so alone, so devastated. That was why she had to do this. For Rosalind.
As the announcement came over the speaker that they were about to land, she gave wicked smile, and thought, time for payback.
Samantha looked over the horde of people for Nelson who had promised he would be easy to spot. She was glad she had a great height or there would have been big trouble. As she scanned the sea of black faces, she felt a tap on her shoulder and swiveled to look into the face of her lover and husband-to-be. She dropped her suitcase and jumped on him, hugging him tightly.
Then he led her towards his dashing car and they sped off towards his house. As the car sped by, she enthusiastically watched the many sights of this country she had grown to love—the teeming cars, the endless streams of people and the noise. This place was alive! Not London, which was lifeless and devoid of any fun. She looked at Nelson, her beloved, so handsome, so virile, he was every woman’s dream man—and he was hers. What a life.
As for Nelson, his mind was filled with joy that was inexplicable. Just let them see his wife, he thought, their jaws will drop on the floor. But firstly, he needed to show her to his mother, who, strangely, had grown excited about his upcoming marriage; after her initial outburst, she had thrown herself fully into planning and organizing a lot of things for him. She had even convinced his siblings on his behalf. Things indeed were looking good.
When they reached his house, as his mother saw Sam, she let out a whoop of joy that, at first, startled Sam, but when she saw that she was happy, Sam hurriedly went into his mother’s arms and enveloped her in a warm hug. He did the introductions and they went in to freshen up.
The days flew by, and everything happened in a haze. She met with his siblings, who all seemed to welcome her, with his friends, who looked at her in awe like some goddess. Everywhere she went, she was the cynosure of all eyes, and people seemed to wonder—how did she fall in love with him to the extent of wanting to marry him?
As she lay on the bed inside her warm, cozy room, all she thought was that she was so tantalizingly close to having her revenge. It was too tempting to finish everything now. But with great pains, she restrained herself. No, this isn’t how it should end. She must wait.
She had seen how happy he was with his bride-to-be; she made him happy, she observed. Very soon, both of them would know unthinkable sorrow that would make them suffer, truly suffer.
She closed her eyes, and as she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were—the wedding bells have just sounded, so did the bells of vengeance.
“Do you, Nelson Godson, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…” As the minister said the words of the vow, Nelson’s mind was in the land of ecstasy. It was truly happening—they were really getting married. When he said his “I do,” he felt that his heart would burst out in joy. Love was indeed a beautiful thing. And when she said her own vows, he watched as those beautiful words rolled from her sensuous lips and he smiled. Tonight, they would consummate the best marriage of the month, by anyone’s standards.
The rest of the events went by in a blur and when, finally, they left for their hotel room, for the start of their honeymoon, Nelson thought the car wouldn’t go fast enough. He thought about telling the driver to drive faster, but didn’t want to sound impatient.
As for Samantha, her life was just perfect. Well, except that her father wasn’t able to make it. He had some last minute business meeting to attend to, but he had promised to make it up to her and her husband once they come over to London. She took Nelson’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder. She knew that he couldn’t wait to make love to her—she was as impatient as he; all she thought of was how she was going to make him understand what he truly meant to her.
She looked at him, and the repulsive bile of hate threatened to overwhelm her, but she managed to maintain her cool. He was sprawled on the king-sized bed and looked at her with hungry eyes, the eyes of a predator. But he wasn’t the predator, she thought, no, he was the prey, her prey.
She tied him to the post and with a promise of the most memorable blowjob, seductively removed her clothes. She licked her lips and watched as his eyes glazed over in naked lust. Vengeance is mine, let the pains begin.
As he lay there, tied to the four corners of the bed, Nelson was anticipating the greatest sex of his life. So it was with horror that he saw Sam coming back from the bathroom with a large butcher’s knife. She didn’t have the eyes of the same Sam he knew. No, these eyes were full of hatred and malice. Nelson knew that the knife was meant to inflict pain on him.
“Sam,” he called out to her, “Sam, what’s the meaning of this? Why are you with that knife?”
Instead of responding, she slashed the knife on his bare thighs. He yelped in pain, and as the blood gushed out, his vision blurred with anguish. Then she said amidst laughter:
“My name is not Sam—Samantha Pocket.” He gave her a horrified look and she reveled in it as she continued, “no, my real name is Lindsay Adams, the sister of Rosalind Adams. Do you remember her?”
Rosalind Adams? Of course he remembered her, Nelson thought. Oh God, no! She was the person he—
“Six years ago,” Sam/Lindsay resumed, “you were in Manchester. And you deceived her. You tricked her into falling in love with you. She gave you everything! She thought you were also in love with her. But no, you were after her money, after her father’s money. Which you took and absconded.
“When you left with the five million pounds, which was also partly our father’s money, he disowned her. Out of grief, she killed herself. Do you what you did! She was my sunshine! My only companion!
“It wasn’t easy to trace you from the records she had. And I resolved to get her revenge for her. So here I am, the ghost of your sins coming to take you to hell.”
With pain, Nelson pleaded, but he knew, oh he knew, that she would not listen. Her eyes were hardened. As he watched, she raised the knife and approached menacingly…
She raised the knife and came to him. As he pleaded and begged for the mercy he didn’t deserve, she stuck the knife into his throat and slashed it downwards. The spurt of blood onto her face brought joy to her. It is finished.
She went into the bathroom, took her bath and left, hours after she went in. As she headed to the airport in the cab, she smiled to herself and said to Rosalind, we got him babe, we got him.

Read Also ==>“Prince of an Unknown Land” — A Flash Fiction by Somtoochukwu Benedict Ezioha.

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