WHEN YOU LOSE A LOVED ONE

AFTER LOSING HIS WIFE IN AN ACCIDENT, KELECHI BEGINS TO QUESTION HIS SANITY. A BRILLIANT PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER THE THROWS LIGHT ON FAMILY LIFE, LOVE, LOSS, MENTAL HEALTH AND BETRAYAL. WRITTEN BY DARLINGTON CHIBUZOR EZE.

EXCERPTS>

Even when we took to meeting at hotels weeks later, I still stank of this guilt. It wrapped me in itself, blocking my nostrils. I smelled of it so badly that even the perfume I bathed myself in could not conceal it, could not cover it. The stench of guilt is heavy, I realized. I watched my back at nights for shadows of my wife. I forced myself with insomnia so I could be awake, armed with explanations and apologies. I knew my wife would perceive this stench when next she visited. But she didn't come, she didn't visit, and as time went by Patricia and I began to conflate. We began to understand this new version of ourselves like a child learning to speak. We did not speak of my wife or James. We did not speak about what we were doing. We just did it. We let our bodies do the talking. I began to understand the language of Patricia's body all over again, every inch of her flesh, every movement, every moan and laughter. What felt like a dalliance blossomed into something more, something I could not tell, something I could not identify. I never knew how comfortable I had grown with Patricia, how attached, until the day we argued, in the sixth month of 'our thing'. We were sitting completely naked on the bed that evening. Patricia was smoking as usual, blowing fumes all over. The room was blind but for the rays of light that slipped through the balcony. I put on my underwear, stood by the door and watched Patricia. Then I walked back, sat on the table, and then back again on the bed. Patricia was unbothered by my restlessness. She seemed to not be worried by anything.

"This is not right." I said, all of a sudden. Immediately, I began to stink. Patricia paid a deaf ear to me.

"This thing we are doing." I made sure she heard me this time. "It's not right. We need to stop."

"Stop what?"

"This thing... Everything!" I did not know what to call my situation with Patricia, was it a relationship? Lust? Or just repeated flings? I could not really classify.

"Why?" Patricia looked stunned. She could not hide it, did not attempt to.

"I have a wife."

"A dead wife you mean?" I stared at Patricia with the highest amount of shock a man could gather, with my eyes open, with my jaw dropping.

"My wife is not dead!" My voice was raucous. Patricia smiled at me sheepishly. She put away the cigarette, and then smiled again.

"Do you think I didn't know about you and this craziness of yours?

"Eh! Her voice was becoming louder now. "Kelechi I am not a fool. I knew everything. I knew all along but I decided to stay with you." Of course, she knew all along. Of course, it had been a plan, a silly game to get me back with her. At that moment, my veins began to swell with anger. My eyes grew red. My muscles stiffened and I feared I would hold Patricia by the neck and strangle her to death.

"Did Jide put you up to this?" I asked her, repeatedly, shouting. The tension in the room rose to the ceiling and reverberated back to the ground.

"No!" He told me about Ada's death. He told me about you not believing, about you seeing spirits. He said you were going crazy." She spoke calmly now. "But it was my choice to come back into your life. I thought loving you would help."

"I am not sick!"

"I don't need help!"

"I am not crazy!"

Those were the last words I said to Patricia, the last time I saw her face. We said goodbyes like enemies in war, with shouts and curses.

Dettagli