Married To An Atheist - S01 E08

Story 2 years ago

Married To An Atheist - S01 E08

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 8

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“I want a divorce. We’re not compatible.”

Amos took the paper and signed, and I was finally free.

“Hon—” someone shook me. “Hon, wake up. You haven’t eaten.”

“I’m not hungry.” I muttered and opened my eyes. “Amos!”

“Are you still angry with me?”

I gave no response. If he’s trying to make up for what he’s done, he should know it’d never work.

“Habibat, please…”

I turned my head to the side. “Please go. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I turned down his gesture. I fancied having breakfast in bed but wasn’t feeling it. I could hear my stomach rumbling, but I didn’t want to get up and let him win.

“Your food is here,” …I heard.

The door came close and I sighed where I laid. “He thinks he can buy me back with his pretentious ways.” I locked my eyelids back.

I got up later and went to where the food was placed. “Rice and turkey. Hm.” I closed it back and shrugged my shoulders. I won’t let you win, Amos, I remembered the dream. I loved my husband so much, so what would make me think of getting a divorce?

Maybe you should forgive him, my mind rose. “Forgive him?” I thought aloud. I didn’t think forgiving him would be a better option. I was going to hold onto the grudge and make him feel miserable just how he made me when we quarreled and I went begging. I won’t forgive him until three weeks have passed, I thought.

The fourth day came…

“Babe, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you for days. Can you please forgive me?” I was the one asking for forgiveness. It was funny, cause I really wanted to torture him.

“It’s okay, hon,” He said and rose to his feet. We hugged and kissed, and then he caressed my cheeks. “We’re cool.” He said, as a knock came on the door.

“Who’s there?” We asked at the same time.

“Oga, na me,” We pulled away, hearing Usman, our gateman.

“Usman?” Amos went to open the door.

“Oga, na one woman carry me come,” Usman said, as Amos opened the door.

“Hello, handsome—” a woman with a fine accent greeted.

“Baby, who is that?” I marched forward and slid my arm under his.

“His wife, b---h!”

Amos has another woman? My heart sank in my boots. “W-wife?”

“Henry? Jenna?” The woman called. Two lovely kids appeared as she did; one about the size of my kids, and the other—can’t say.

I looked at Amos and he looked at me. “Babe, what is this?”

His lips were frozen.

The weird lady pushed me out of the way and marched in like she owned the house. “Wench, help me with my bags!”

Amos had lots of explanations to do.