My Married Girlfriend Chapter 1
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???????? My Married Girlfriend Chapter One:
I had had a long day at work so, it was a relief when the bike man dropped me in front of my house. I planned to have a cool bath, have a hearty meal, and then have some rest. After that, I planned to go out to catch fun with my friends. It was Friday and that meant I wasn’t going to work the next day which was of course, Saturday. I lived on the third floor, and that meant I had to pass by my neighbours’ apartments before going into mine. Most of my neighbours were in front of their apartments but I didn’t greet any one of them.
A long time ago, I had made the decision of never interacting with my neighbours. I had learnt a bitter lesson. Back in the days when I was still a student in the university, I was a neighbour to these three beautiful girls who lived in an apartment that was close to mine. Since they were all girls, I was like the only brother they had. We functioned and did everything like siblings. Then, one day, everything changed.
It all started when their apartment was almost burgled by armed robbers. As the men of the underworld tried to force their door open, they shouted for help desperately and called for me to come to their aid. I was deep asleep in our own apartment when as if in a dream, I heard someone screaming and shouting my name. I slowly came back to consciousness and realized that it was real. My neighbours were under attack and they were calling me for help.
With my instincts acting faster than my reasoning, I got up from bed and rushed to the main door of our house. I was surprised to find my uncle there. He had also heard the desperate screams and had wanted to help. But how could we? The robbers were armed, and we weren’t. It was risky for us to open our door at that ungodly hour of the night. Luckily for us, and for the girls too, the robbers panicked because of their screams, and ran away. The following day, they stopped talking to me. They were angry that I didn’t come to their rescue when they needed me.
After about a month, one day, I went and met them and apologized. I made them to understand that I really wanted to help them, but I was scared for my own life. The robbers were obviously armed, and I wasn’t. Reluctantly, one after the other, they saw reason with me and forgave me. We became friends again, but this time around, there was mutual suspicion between us. Just when we were trying to patch up our relationship, another incident happened. Someone broke into their apartment while they were at work, and stole their gas cylinder.
I didn’t even know a thing like that had happened, and neither did they tell me. I only realized that they had once again stopped talking to me. By now, I was tired of their nonsense, and this time around, I decided to keep my distance. Then, I realized that each time I was leaving the house or going into the house, my neighbours were always whispering among themselves and fidgeting. I couldn’t understand what was happening. However, the mystery was soon solved. My uncle’s wife called me and told me that it was rumoured that I had stolen their gas cylinder.
I felt very bad. I didn’t just feel bad because I was being wrongly accused, I felt bad because no one had confronted me about it. Instead, they were defaming my character and spoiling my good name in the whole neighbourhood. Any other person would have confronted them and raised hell. However, I was not any other person. So, I decided to finally cut them off. Luckily for me, after about a week, it was discovered that the gas cylinder was stolen and sold by their younger cousin who had just moved in from the village.
Anyway, that was back in my university days. Today, as I mounted the stairway that led to my third-floor apartment, I put my hands in my pocket to get my keys, but pocket was empty. I checked all the other pockets, but they were all empty. I searched the bag I always carried with me, but it was also empty. I was frustrated. With all the exhaustion after a long day at work, I still couldn’t get into my house. I wondered where I might have dropped my keys. I had made a few stops on my way home. I had stopped at a bakery where I had purchased some beverages. I had also stopped at a Mobile Money joint. I didn’t know at which of them I might have dropped my keys.
I called a colleague of mine that I had spent most of the day with. But she said she hadn’t seen my keys. I had my office keys with me, but not my house keys. I had always thought of putting the keys together, but I hadn’t until now. I called the attendant of the Mobile Money joint, but she said she hadn’t seen my keys either. The next place to check was the bakery. However, I didn’t have their number. I didn’t know what to do. It was about 7:00 PM now and I feared the bakery might have been closed, since there was a curfew put in place by the local government for all shops to close by 8:00 PM latest.
As exhausted as I was, I had no choice but to go back to the bakery to check. Unfortunately for me. It took me about twenty minutes just to get a bike. By the time I got to the bakery, it had already closed. I was terribly vexed. What was I going to do? The only person I met was the security guy. I begged him to give me the number of the lady who had the bakery. He refused at first. But when I oiled his lips with 2k, he gave me the number.
I called the lady who owned the bakery to asked her if she had seen my keys.
“Hello, Mam” I said.
“Hello, who is this?”
“Val, your regular customer. I was at your place today to get some stuffs for myself.” I reminded her.
“Oh! Val, how are you? How did you get my number?” She asked.
“Your security guy gave me because I badly needed it.”
“What is the matter? I hope you are alright?”
She sounded worried.
“Not really, as I speak to you now, I can’t get into my house. I have lost my keys. I am calling to find out if I had mistakenly left it at your bakery and you had found them later and kept for me.” I spoke.
“I am sorry, I haven’t seen your keys. I am so sorry. I hope you find them.”
“It’s alright, Mam. Thank you for your time.” I said and dropped.
I didn’t know what to do next. My door was an iron door and breaking it would cost a lot of money to repair. It wouldn’t even be easy, and I would run into trouble with my landlord. I stood by the side of the road, thinking, then I remembered that I had once kept a spare key in a drawer in my office. My face brightened a little by this memory.
I went back to my place of work and the gate was firmly locked. I banged the gate, and the security guy flashed his flashlight.
“Who is there?” He asked, rudely.
“It’s Val”
“Who is Val?”
“Mr. Valentine Babalola.”
“Sir, you and the CEO told me I shouldn’t open the gate to anyone when it is late. I am sorry, I can’t open the gate for you.”
“Are you drunk, Mr. Okpara?” I asked in anger. “If you don’t open this gate right now, you will run into serious trouble with me tomorrow.”
“I am sorry, Sir. I am only following orders. Very soon, you and the boss will start saying I can’t keep to simple instructions.”
“I am promising you that I will quite literally strangle you if I get my hands on you, idiot. Will you come and open this gate, my friend.
He finally conceded and opened the gate. As soon as he did, I pushed the gate violently and got in. He had quickly shifted to about ten maters away, for fear of what I might do to him. I looked at him at with a serious stare for about ten seconds and then spoke.
“Will you come and open the main door of the building for me, you drunkard.”
“Ok, Sir.”
He opened the door for me, and I got into my office and retrieved the spare key. As I was walking out of the compound, he said:
“Goodnight, Sir.”
“Bad night to you.” I replied. “If you like, keep drinking.”
I felt a bit better. I was finally going to enter my house after a long day. It was about 10:00 PM. I got a bike and headed home. As I was going home, I taught of security guy. He was a lovable guy, in spite of his crave for alcohol. He was an ex-military, and we had hired him because of his military experience.
I was home now. I had bathed now, eaten and rested. I was in the living room watching CNN when my phone rang. I picked immediately and it was the bakery lady.
“Hi Val”
“Hi Mam”
“Have you found the keys?” She asked.
“No”
“Then what are you going to do? Where are you going to sleep this night?”
“I have used the spare key, Mam.”
“Oh! That’s good. I was so worried about you. I really felt bad, especially as the rain had started falling. Fine boys like you don’t need to be stressed.” She spoke.
“It’s okay, Mam. I am good now.”
“Don’t call me “Mam”, you make me feel old. Just called me Larisa.”
“Hmmm!!”
“Hmmm too!!” She laughed. “Anyway, I want you to pass by the bakery tomorrow when you are going home from work. I have something for you.”
TO BE CONTINUED
