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The unfaithful wife - Season 1 - Episode 1
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Source: coolval
I stared fixedly at Prof. Solomon Laryea,
my wife’s lawyer.

Perhaps, I did not hear
him well,
I assured myself.

I felt my
lawyer’s hand on my arm obviously
trying to restrain me from over reacting.
“Excuse me, sir. What did you just say?” I
asked, still confident that I really did not
hear the astute lawyer well when he
made the fatal comment.

He was a short and stout man with a
rich amount of white beard. He must be
above 60 years. That he was a brilliant
lawyer goes without saying. He was well
respected by his peers. It is well known
that he had taught some of the judges
who were currently on the bench at the
Supreme Court.

Prof. Laryea sat back in his chair,
caresing his white beard as he stared
back at me. Then he leaned forward
slowly, with his hands on his oak-
paneled desk and then spoke.

“I understand how you feel, Mr. Ofori-
Mensah. But what I said is the truth. My
client is ready for a DNA test at any
health facility of your choice to prove her
claim” he said.

My wife sat by him with an
expressionless face. Even then, her
beauty was not in doubt. She had a nose
that will make many a beauty contestant
envy her. Her big romantic eyes stared at
the lawyer as he spoke. She was
ignoring me for obvious reason. Seated
behind her was her brother, Nana
Kweku. He wore an expressionless look
on his face.

No one, looking at my wife even as she
sat across the table from me, would
imagine that she would cheat on me.

First of all, she had the innocent look of


an angel. If she were to be taking part in
a movie about the life of Jesus Christ,
Mary, the mother of Jesus, would have
been the best role to cast her in. She
really looked as innocent as Mary. Her
beauty makes screen goddess, Marilyn
Monroe, look ordinary.

Secondly, that she cheated on me in
spite of all that I had done for her will
surprise many.I never starved her in love making. We made love at least three
times a week. And, when it came to
material things, I had made her the envy
of her friends. Yet, she went ahead to
cheat on me with no other person than
my b—m friend, Edwin. I had caught her
in the act myself.

“Excuse me sir, I did not get what you
said. Can you please repeat yourself once
more” I asked, though his assertion that
my wife was ready for a DNA meant I
had heard exactly what he said.

“Mr. Ofori-Mensah, my client here, your
wife, says Peter and Pamela are not your
biological children. As you know, only a
mother can tell the real father of her
child or children. Your wife says the
biological father of the two children is
another man he would name at the right
time” Prof. Laryea repeated.

The lawyer’s comments were like a
hammer hammering at my heart. I
began to tremble all over. I could feel my
blood boiling inside me and my heart
threatening to burst out of my chest.

“How dare you tell me this nonsense!?
How dare you tell me that Peter and
Pamela are not my children!?” I said
through clenched teeth, my anger
boiling. Suddenly, I [email protected] my fist with
such ferocity on the desk that a flower
vase on it tumbled and fell. So did a pen
and some books.

My wife got up and backed away in
fright. I guess she had never seen me in
that mood before. She had never seen
me this angry. Her brother stepped
protectively in front of her.

“Calm down, Mr. Ofori-Mensah” Prof.
Solomon Laryea said, getting up and
taking a step back to ensure I will not
reach him if I lash out at him. My lawyer
held me to restrain me but I knew no
stopping.

“You are a stupid man to call me here to
tell me this crap! If you try such
nonsense with me, you’ll regret it. If you
try this nonsense with me, I’ll kill you!

You hear me!” I screamed as I swiftly
leaned across the table and grabbed the
front of his suit, shaking him violently
even before he realized I was going to
grab him.
.
I tightened my grip on him.My lawyer
grabbed me from behind, trying to yank
me away from his learned friend.

But, my grip on Prof. Laryea was so tight
that my lawyer’s effort was in vain.
“Stop! You are killing me!” Prof. Laryea
managed to scream out. I was so much
red hot with anger that it did not dawn
on me I was choking him.
“Paul! Stop it! You’ll kill the man!” I heard
my lawyer scream. It was only then that I
realized I was on the verge of
committing murder. I quickly let go off
the lawyer who immediately sunk to his
knees, clutching at his neck and
coughing.

I turned my attention towards to my
wife. She was visibly shaken by my
anger; she obviously had never seen me
in that state of anger in all the twelve
years we had been married. I took a
step towards her and asked what she
meant in claiming my two children, Peter
and Pamela, were not my biological
children. His brother, Nana Kweku,
immediately stepped in front of me,
blocking my path to his sister, my wife.
Before he knew what was happening, I
had taken hold of him by his shirt and
hurled him across the room.

He landed on the ground. I turned my
attention to my wife only to realize she
was not there. I caught sight of her
escaping through the door. She had
kicked off her shoes to ensure she could
run as fast as she could.

I immediately dashed to the door. When
I got there, she had reached the bottom
of the stairs, about to step out of the
building. I went down the stairs three at
a time, got to the bottom, opened the
door and rushed out only to collide with
the security man on duty.

“ Hey! What is wrong with you?” he
asked, grabbing me. I hit his hands
away and ran pass him before he could
stop me. My wife was already getting
into her car. I recognized immediately it
was too late to get her so I dashed to
my car parked nearby. By the time I got
in, she was far away. Nevertheless, I
went after her.

My car surged forward as I stepped on
the accelerator, speeding down the
road. I was on time to see her about a
hundred metres away, turning left at a
junction. I stepped harder on the
accelerator. The next five minutes saw
my wife and me in a car chase, with me
in hot pursuit.

We both jumped traffic lights and sped
over zebra crossings. I barely avoided
knocking down two market women at a
zebra crossing. I saw them in my
rearview mirror, screaming obscenities
after me as I sped away.

Far ahead, I saw my wife also miss
colliding with another vehicle. Finally,
she headed for the central market
square. By this time, I was only about
forty metres behind her. My thoughts
were all filled with the beating I would
subject her to when I finally catch up
with her.

I had never touched her. I had never
even contemplated or attempted beating
her because I loved her so much.

Further, I distasted people who beat
women. However, on this day, I was
ready to do my worse to her for telling
me I was not the biological father of my
children.

She brought her car to a screeching halt
at the car park in front of the market,
got out and flee into the market as I
brought my car to a screeching halt
beside hers. But I knew having dashed
into the market, there was no way I
could get her again. Firstly, it would be
tantamount to looking for a needle in a
hay stack with the kind of crowd that
was in the market. Secondly, there was
no way the crowd would look on
unconcerned while I beat her up. They
may end up beating me.

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