After pleading exhaustion, I asked to be taken home because
I was as they say here in South Africa, ‘gatvol’. Gatvol of making nice and
small talk that really got me nowhere. The longer I was in his company and
hoping to get a straightforward explanation from him as to the fuckery I had to
endure over the past fortnight was just an exercise in futility. I don’t
particularly take well to being patronised and plain being lied to.
Any libidinous feelings deserted the tense air between us
and all I wanted to do was go to collect my child from the babysitter and head
for a nice bath, a calming bedtime story, prayer and Kung-Fu cuddles. I felt
physically, mentally and emotionally spent. There was nothing left there for me
to even tap into and hold up the pretence.
Having heralded the earliest ending of a lover’s reunion
ever by driving the point home with some face splitting yawns and exaggerated
stretches, I dragged my shell to the car. It was uncomfortable to say the very
least but for the first time since the shouting began in my head there was
silence...glorious, blissful silence. Whether this silence was as a result of
shock or genuine apathy remained to be seen, both of us were very aware of this.
With the perfunctory kiss goodbye at the gate I made a bee-line
to collect my baby and both she and the babysitter were clever enough not to
probe why I was home so early. My child due to genuine respect and an innate
knowledge of how to read her mama’s face and my friend due to fearing for her
life coming into the line of fire when my plastered look of composure cracked. Nemesis sent
a message to let me know that he was home safely and when I didn’t respond
after ten minutes he decided to give me a call to check if I was alright. I
said that I was fine. (He should’ve known right there and then, a woman is
never ‘fine’- men please take note)
Calmly I told him to give me a few minutes so that I could
get through the housekeeping and admin so that we could chat without anything
rushing me. He asked how long I would need and I informed him that an hour
would suffice. As it was still pretty early I knew he would not sleep until I
got in touch with him. With my child planted firmly on my bosom and drooling
contentedly I dove into the maelstrom that waited.
Once the perfunctory
niceties were dispensed with I asked him which part of any of what was
happening right now made sense not to me but to him. He immediately pointed out
that my behaviour that evening was nothing like what he had come to know me
for. Having had that pointed out I asked if he had even the slightest inkling
why it was thus, to which he expressed how he had expected the usual rousing
welcome accompanied with pompoms, cancan dancing, cheerleaders and some hot
sticky cuddling to cap off the night...but alas he was in his bed alone trying
to mould my Nubian form out of some very reluctant goose-down white pillows and
failing dismally.
I expressed my sincere disdain and commiseration at his
circumstances and assured him that not all days are the same, again reiterating
my exhaustion. He asked if he should let me alone so that I might sleep to
which I responded that attempting to sleep when my heart and head were not
settled would not solve anything, I knew for a fact the sun would come up the
next morning with me still lying in prone staring at the ceiling and fighting
myself in my own head. Finally he asked what was wrong -as if he didn’t know,
but I saw his angle and he was not going to get a word out of me until he
acknowledged wrong doing, gave a satisfactory explanation and made things
right.
What came first was the apology.
Grunt!
“What are you apologising for?” I asked pleasantly.
“I have not been honest with you and I have let you draw
conclusions off my silence that are altogether wrong,” he said.
“Indulge me,” I said as I sunk my back deeper into my
pillows and rolled the now sleeping bunny from on top of me.
He asked if I was being sarcastic and as serenely as I had
been throughout I responded that I wasn’t being catty at all and was dying to
know what he had to say for himself. I was only going to be in a position to
accept or reject any apology from him once I knew what was being apologised
for. Nemesis
was conducting himself as someone who had done no wrong and expected the
excitement of his return to overshadow the obvious misgivings his whole
departure and absence had caused. To add insult to injury he expected a hero’s
welcome, receptive arms and a moist, throbbing receptacle for his turgid,
throbbing member.
He admitted that his treatment of me had not been fair and
that I deserved better from him given the place I held in his life. I exhaled
loudly and let him continue, all the while fighting back a sudden well of tears
that had begun collecting in my eyes. Listening to him talk I could sense his
sincerity, either that or he really puts on a good show. He was in a position
where he had trapped himself solidly by the path he had let his life take and
there were things about it that he could no longer fight or try to change. He
loves me, he never planned this. It has him off kilter because his life is so
planned that he can right now by his calendar tell you exactly where he will be
on the 7th of November as early as the January of the same year. If
anything deviates from the course that has been predetermined it totally screws
him up. There is no disambiguation between his personal and professional life,
hasn’t been for over a decade.
Enter hot blooded female...
Surely this would be the time to take a chance on feelings
that you declare to be real and a source of great peace and joy and factor them
into your proverbial calendar.
Well not if you are Nemesis!
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