Madly in Love

“Madly in Love”




She was on the phone again; “…Mama…it’s not my fault if no baby after 6years…doctor said there’s nothing wrong with us…I’m not God....”

Abigail sighed. Though it was only 11 am, she was already exhausted.

Talking with her mother-in-law always did that to her.

The phone rings again; she checks the time before answering; it was few minutes after 3pm; could be her husband, Raymond.

Her heart leaped at the thoughts of him.

He’d told her not to call him because he had a meeting in the office.

He promised to call whenever he was less busy.

Smiling, she said: “Sweetheart…” then her face fell; it was Benita, her best friend.

“Hello…hello… She listened and frowns.

“My husband?” She toyed with her hair. “When? No, it can’t be… Raymond is at work…maybe it’s his driver…” Suddenly, her scalp itched; she scratched the spot. “...no, it’s not my husband… Ok, bye…”

Then she sat staring unseeingly at the newscaster on CNN; after a while, she leaned forward and picked the phone; fiddled with it, scrolled down to her husbands’ number, went down further then came back to it and dialled the number with one hand on her chest.

She realized she was shaking.

The burr, burr sound from the other end lasted for like a minute and a pre-recorded voice said: “The number dialled is switched off…”

He said he would be in a meeting; he probably switched off his phone.

Made sense…No need to panic or jump into conclusions…

She dropped the phone, picked it up again and scrolled down to H, she stopped at ‘Hubbys’PA’, leaned back thinking for some minutes, then pressed the dial button.

She had to breathe rapidly from her mouth because her chest felt congested.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she was scared of what her husbands’ PA might tell her.

She switched off the phone before it rings.

People have a way of getting under your skin with false insinuations. It’s a mistake; Raymond couldn’t have been with another woman.

Suddenly, the phone started ringing; she jumped. She put the phone to her ear and said: “Hello, Hello…let me talk to my husband…he’s left? When…ok thank you.”

She dialled Raymonds’ number.

“Hi sweetheart, I…who’re you…his wife? I’m his wife! Who’re you? Let me…” the line went off.

She redials the number.

“Hello…hello…”dead again.

My God! Another wife? Is Raymond cheating on me?

I need to talk to my sister…she dials her number.

“Hello, Hello Sis, I’m fine…no... She was crying.

“It’s Raymond…she sniffed. “I just need to talk to someone …” I’ll kill him if it’s true! She thought. I will!

“…I think he’s…” she cut the line because from the corners of her eyes, she saw Rose and some men standing in the room; Rose, her maid, sometimes bring visitors into her room without her consent.

I’m going to warn her, the next time she usher people into the house without asking me first, I’ll fire her!

“Yes, how can I help you? Who do they want to see Rose?” she said.

Silence.

Abigail noticed they seem to be studying her expressions and movements calmly.

She redialled her sisters’ number again...

Without answering her question, Rose, the resident psychiatrist, said:

“… Meet Abigail Oyebode, 31yrs old… psychosis… jilted at the altar by her lawyer boyfriend, Raymond… she stabbed him twenty-three times while asleep and called the police… she was charged for manslaughter... brought to this facility from Federal Neuro Psychiatric Hospital 6 years ago…” she was reading from a file.

Timidly, the eight psychiatric students peered at the young lady sitting on a bed, holding a white plastic cup to her ear shouting:

“Hello, Hello…” she totally ignored them.

This call was more important.