Editor's ChoiceLife and General FictionNaija Stories

A Perfect Fairytale

You wake up late, you turn and you see a note beside you. The feeling comes up, the one that feels like a thousand butterflies flew into you stomach.

You smile. Hard. You sigh too. Your husband is such a cheesy romantic.

You walk down the stairs and you see your kids already having breakfast.
Your maid is so efficient, she works like her life depends on it.

It doesn’t. Yours does.

You drive out, you take a look at your compound as you drive. It looks like it was cut out of a story book.

Your life is the perfect fairytale.

You drive out of the estate and into the Lagos traffic. You are glad your glasses are tinted, you do not have to worry about anyone seeing the tears pouring down your face.

You get to the top of the Third Mainland Bridge. You park your car and come down.

You walk to the railing.

You jump.

Your life flashes before you.

You see the night at the club. The hot bartender. The way he hunched you over the boot of your car as he pounded into you recklessly from behind.

You remember your breathless moans and your whispers of “Harder! Fuck me!”

You remember his screams as he ejaculated. You remember the warmth you felt as his sperm burst into you and trickled down your leg. Then, the realization of how unprotected you were, coupled with shame.

You pushed him off you, as you staggered into your car, your panties halfway pulled up as your dress fell to cover your naked, suddenly cold ass.

You remember the words of your doctor friend three days ago.

“Mmachi, I don’t understand, you are HIV positive. What happened?”

You remember the plonk sound your stomach made as you swallowed the news.

As your lungs begin to burn up, you know this isn’t fair. Your husband will eternally ask himself what he did wrong.

People will talk on social media, they will say, “She was depressed, she was unhappy. Men! Men are just evil!”

They would not know, no one will ever know. Your doctor friend won’t even tell them.

She is driving on the express now, heading to work, her brakes have been cut off the night before, by some guy you paid. She won’t make it.

You close your eyes and welcome the silence.

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