Vote Comfort! Entry 3 Ekaete You Cannot Text My Husband

Busola sat and waited for her husband to come in. She shivered with anticipation and dread. 

Busola's husband walked in looking haggard and worn. "Welcome dear, how was your day?" She asked sweetly, as though her heart was not pounding.
"Hey honey, I know we have to talk but can we please do it tomorrow? I'm so exhausted, it's been a horrible day."
The next morning, Samson left in a hurry and Busola went about her normal chores. She was determined that they would talk when he got home.
Busola sat watching TV in the late afternoon, nervous of her husband's return but blissfully unaware of the hell to come. But not for long.
The doorbell rang, bringing her out of her reverie. She wasn't expecting anyone and her husband had his key. She stood up and walked to the door, apprehension filled her but she didn't know why. She opened the door and her mind went blank.
Busola must have stared at her visitor for 1 minute straight before she unfroze her by giving her a big hug. "Ah Aunty, I have missed you o."

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Busola awkwardly hugged her back, "Ekaete, what are you doing here?"
"I came to see how you were doing. You see I was in town to visit a friend so i decided to stop by. How is Uncle doing?" Busola was dumbfounded.
"Didn't you see my text?" That was all she could blurt out. "No o, which text? My phone has been misbehaving lately, Uncle promised to get me a new one sef. I hope he doesn't forget."
This problem was beyond her, she had to go and kabash to God.
"Aunty won't you invite me in? What was the text about anyway?" Ekaete didn't wait for her to answer but pushed herself inside, only then did Busola see the suitcase she was rolling behind her.
Busola took a deep breath and shut the door. "Welcome dear, don't worry about the text. Please make yourself at home. I need to go do something."
"Okay Aunty, thank you. I will do just that," Ekaete said with a cheshire grin.

2 hours later...

The silence at the dinner table was tense and awkward. Samson sat at the head of the table, Ekaete was at his right and Busola was at his left. He had not yet regained his colour after his shock at seeing Ekaete in the house.
"Uncle Samson, how have you been? It's been a while since you called. All those sweet messages don't quite make up for not hearing your voice," Ekaete had the guts to sound cheerful.
Samson blanched even more and shot a quick glance at Busola but she kept staring straight ahead as she slowly chewed her food. " Eh yes, I've been quite busy," his voice shook.
"Oh you didn't tell me. I'd have come sooner to help you relieve that stress," Ekaette said with a falsely innocent smile.
"So Aunty-" Ekaette started to say but Busola didn't want to listen anymore. "Samson, can we talk briefly? I need to run something by you," she managed to sound calm. Busola stood up and walked out and her husband looking quite relieved, followed her.
As soon as they got to their room, Busola turned to Samson, "Talk, now." And he did.
He explained everything to her, how Ekaete initiated the conversation and it seemed harmless enough at first but slowly it became deeper. He found in Ekaette someone to confide in, to talk about his worries and hopes. Busola was confused, she asked why he couldn't talk to her and tears rolled down her eyes as he explained to her how she was always busy praying and declaring in tongues and managing the home. He insisted that nothing sexual had ever happened between them, nor ever will. Samson begged for her forgiveness and Busola apologized to him as well and promised to make more time for him and be more attentive to his needs. As they hugged and kissed, Busola felt like a heavyweight had been lifted off her, she had regained the joy of her marriage. Praise be!

Meanwhile...


Ekaete sat at the dining table. She was smiling. This was so much fun, she thought. See how they scampered off like rats afraid of the cat. Oh my, they haven't even seen anything yet. They were probably going to talk and kiss and makeup, thinking everything was alright as long as they were together. How pathetic.
She took her time finishing her food then stood up and stretched leisurely. She cleared the table and washed the dishes, a little kindness didn't hurt. Soon she will be the one being served, she smiled secretly to herself.
She went to the guest room, undressed and admired her body in the mirror. Is this what Aunty thinks she can compete with? She laughed derisively at the thought. She took a warm shower and put on a beautiful, skimpy nightdress. She made sure her door was unlocked and then took out the thing from the bag.
It was wrapped in a black waterproof and Baba had told her not to open it. She lay on her bed, squeezed it three times and called his name each time. "Samson, Samson, Samson." Then she put it under the pillow and waited.
After about 5 minutes, just as she started getting nervous, her door slowly opened and there he stood, but with Aunty Busola!
"Ekaette, did you really think that would work? That your pitiful, devilish charms will break down the walls I have erected around my marriage? My God warned me of this already and I was ready for the attack when it came flying at him. Now, my darling husband, you go and rest. Ekaette and I have an appointment with the Holy Spirit. When we are done, she will never look at any man apart from her own destined husband again.

Comfort Obarein is a medical student, an avid reader and a budding writer who hopes to publish both prose and poetry someday. She is crazy about cats.