My husband and I
Dark Romance ?
Episode 7
On the evening of that same day, around 7: 00 pm or thereabouts, the storm clouds were beginning to roll in. I was hungry and I had a migraine. My head was banging. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but It wasn’t this. The rain was coming with a heavy breeze. I needed a place to wait till the rain stops. My workplace was a bit far from home. Though I was supposed to be home hours ago but something beyond my control kept me back.
I had called John a million times to which I received no answer. I called Gbenga and his phone went straight to voicemail. Lastly, I resorted to calling a cab and Uber and both were unavailable. How unlucky could I be?
All the workers had to leave at some point and the place was locked. And it seemed none of them lived in the same neighborhood as mine and none came with their car. And if at all they came with it, no one wanted to risk going under that heavy storm with their car.
I couldn’t stand out on the curb all night and get caught in the rainstorm, so I decided to try and find shelter. Still my dful of the fact I was wearing heels due to the headache. I was honestly scared to walk out alone, but I tried not to show it. The area where I worked didn’t have many structures around it. There were hardly any homes or shops, and most of the stores were closed anyway.
It was almost 11 pm, the last time I checked before my phone went off. I knew there had to be a bus nearby or something, so I began walking in the direction I thought was in. I had walked about twenty minutes before the rain started pouring down harder.
Why was this happening to me at this late hour? Would I have to stand in the rain waiting for the bus? A bus hadn’t even passed by since I began walking.
Now that I thought about it, I thought I was wrong about where it was. I glanced around me to check my surroundings, but it was empty and dark. It was also getting harder to see in the rain and difficult to walk in heels. I speeded up my pace and walked down the street, looking for any kind of sign. Anything that would show directions to a bus route.
The rain finally stopped out of nowhere when more time passed. That was until it started to come down heavy again. There was no way someone could stay in this rain without getting hit by a car, slipping, or getting sick. I needed shelter first and as I looked, it seemed there was no way. I began to lose hope. That was until I sighted a signpost by the left far end.
I hasten up and walked in that direction and when I got there, I recognized some things. The area seemed familiar. As I drew closer, I saw a building with bright lights on. I became excited and rushed to the doors. I peeked inside and saw one man with his back turned at a bar of some sort. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I didn’t care. I pulled at the door handle, juggling it a little before realizing it was locked.
The rain came down harder at this point, I was drenched. I started knocking frantically on the door, beating it as hard as I could. I soon increased the attention of the man inside and he turned.
It’s him! The waiter!
He looked about the same, yet he was dressed in casual clothing, not work attire. Although my eyes currently had rainwater in them, he still looked handsome. With his dark hair, clothes clinging to his muscled body, and flawless skin. He looked at me confused before rushing over, pulling the door open, and inviting me inside. I rushed in and as I turned to thank him, I noticed something different. Unlike the last time when he wore a cap, I could see his eyes more clearly. I thought his eyes were brown but in reality, they were whitish and beautiful.
Wrapping my arms around my waist to generate warmth, I thanked him. I was really shivering as my teeth clattered when I spoke.
The man stepped closer, his brows furrowed in worry. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you some towels,” he said quickly, then rushed to.. well, I just assumed he went behind the restaurant. I stood there shivering, wishing I was home in my bed while I waited.
The man returned shortly and gently wrapped the towel, around me. It also seemed he brought some clothes too as I saw him place them on the bar top.
“I don’t want to sound like crap, but I brought some extra clothes for you. They are big but it’s better than staying in wet clothes. You can change in the bathroom if you’d like. The bathroom door has a lock on it in case you feel unsafe.” I wasn’t keen on trusting a stranger but it seemed I didn’t have much of a choice. Unless I wanted to die of hyperthermia.
“Thank you,” I took the clothes and went as fast as I could to the bathroom. I locked the door, went into a stall, and locked that one too before changing. As he said, they were a bit big, but I managed to use one of my bobby pins to skillfully tighten the clothes so they wouldn’t fall. I was dressed in baggy sweatpants and a sweater. The clothes smelled masculine, none of that axe sprays that my husband used.
Thankfully, I grabbed my drenched clothes and towels and then headed out to properly thank the kind man. I was still cold but I had warmed up a little since putting on warm clothes.
Exiting the restroom, I noticed a lit fireplace on the other side with the man squatting in front, poking at it with a poker. I made my way toward him, stopping a few feet back. He glanced up at me when he heard my approach.
“Let me put a fire on for you since I’m sure you’re still cold.”
“Thank you so much!” I exclaimed with a small smile. “I’d be a goner in that storm. Do you have anything I can throw my clothes in?” I asked hesitantly. He stood up, taller than a giant, and smiled politely.
“Of course. I’ll get a bag. If you’re done with the towels, I’ll take them too.”
I nodded and handed the towels over. I tried not to look into his eyes for fear I’d get lost in them.
“Thanks,” he chuckled and I headed toward the fire. I heard his footsteps retreat toward the back and I sat down on one of the chairs that sat in front. It seemed he pulled it down for me as all the other chairs in the room were overturned and on the table. I also noticed a blanket sitting beside it and I picked up and pulled it over myself.
When I was there days ago, the restaurant seemed big but now empty. It was spacious tho. It seemed the place had room for everything. I hadn’t noticed the fireplace the first time I came with my husband. We must have been in a different section or something. Regardless, it was a wonderful sight.
The sound of footsteps broke me from my thoughts and he appeared again. This time he was carrying a bag for my clothes which he handed to me. I stuffed my clothes in there with another thank you thrown his way. I was very grateful. In a way, he saved me from being stuck in the rain.
“So, how come you were caught in this heavy rain?” he asked me still standing with his body angled toward the fire, but his eyes were on me.
“I work close by and my husband was supposed to pick me up, but he wasn’t answering my calls. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so, I tried to find a bus, but I got lost. That reminds me, do you have a phone or charger I could borrow? I need to call him. My phone went off earlier.” I explained when I saw the look in his eyes. I hope he doesn’t feel someway about asking to use a phone.
“You can use mine,” he digs inside his back pocket, pulling out his phone. I tried not to judge, but his phone seemed to be a new fancy model. However, I didn’t let that deter me from dialing a number I memorized. It didn’t even ring before I heard the sound of beeping in my ear. When I brought the phone before my face, I saw a message on the screen that said, “no service.”
The wind outside was whipping loud with speed.
“Ugh. Out of service,” I handed the phone back to him.
“Ouch,” I muttered.
I turned my attention back to the fire before looking back at the stranger (the waiter) again. He had tucked his phone back into his pocket, pulled down another chair, then sat beside me. Not too close to make me feel uncomfortable, but just enough for us to talk. I should have been nervous, but somehow I wasn’t. We’d say few words to each other, but I somewhat felt safe. His presence wasn’t domineering even though he was bigger and taller than me.
Maybe it was the scent of him that calmed me down, he smelled earthy-natural in smell good way. A hint of alcohol clinging to him, which was exactly what the clothes he gave me smelt like. They had to be his. It was taking much effort to not bring my shirt to my nose and inhale it.
“You said your husband was supposed to pick you up?” And you walked here, yourself?”
I nodded mutely, upset about the situation but I didn’t want to be mad at John, but I was stuck in rain with nowhere to go. What if something happened to me? What if I had met the wrong stranger?
Fear began creeping into my body, as I imagined a worse situation. It was dark outside and although the area wasn’t all bad, no one could tell what lurks at night. Taking a calming breath, I reminded myself there was nothing I could do now. I was safe and I’ll have to wait out this storm to get in contact with my husband. Speaking of the said stranger, I remembered something.
“I’ve been thanking you for the kindness you have shown me, but I don’t know your name,” I said as I looked at him awaiting an answer. He turned his eyes away from the fire as well then chuckled.
“I suppose I skipped introductions,” he laughed again before holding out his large hand. “The name is Abiola, but I usually go by Abbey. Makes it easier on people who can’t pronounce my name correctly,” he smiled at me as his eyes caught the firelight. He was just handsome. I knew men don’t like being complimented that much about their physical appearance but he was really good-looking with smooth skin. Even his name was perfect, it fit him. The shirt he wore clung to him. The expanse of his muscles underneath flashed, taunting me, knowing I couldn’t touch.
I have a husband, I reminded myself. I was just curious because I’ve never seen muscles on a man before. John was a skinny man until he wasn’t, which was when he joined the force. Now, he’s bigger with no muscles and a beer belly. I wasn’t turned off by my husband, per se, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to look fit.
Regardless, I loved my husband. It’s not as if I’m rocking in the weight department. John always told me how I was eating too much or going weight. I’ve tried many diets to keep him satisfied but he kept having to stop as they were taking a toll on my body.
“Abbey,” I tested his name and I must have pronounced it right because his smile expanded.
“I’m MaryJane, Mary for short,” I brought my small hand to his extended one clasping hands as I spoke. His hands were less calloused than I expected. His hands were soft. I thought working as a waiter and constantly moving things, his hands would be rough but they weren’t.
“Mary,” he said, trying to do the same thing I did earlier, testing my name in a rich, slik-like voice causing me to shiver.
“A beautiful name for a stunning woman,” he said in Yoruba. His tone was light as he spoke and the way he said those words stirred a feeling inside the pit of my stomach. I’m in trouble here! I said to myself.
This was a stranger for goodness sake and there I was, loving the way he called my name. Loving the way he spoke in his native tongue. A voice shouldn’t do this to me, more should I still have my heart captured in his. I was married. I am married!
The sound of thunder crashing could be heard from outside. Hopefully, the rain would so stop before this dude puts me in temptation!
To be continued…
Frank The Writer
