Just Breathe.

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(Photo Credits: Riziki Arketa).

2 a.m and she calls cause I’m still awake. She wanted me to help her unravel her latest mistake. She didn’t love him. Rainy weather had never been my season. I hated wet and humid climate conditions.

On a Monday morning we walked through the court doors. Their eyes were accusing like they had no blamish and any right to greet us. We were all here for the same reason. None could have jumped off the tracks since the cars were on a cable. And our lives revolved on the hour glass glued to the table.

For ten good years they had lived together. Had kids. Bright ones to be precise. They went to good schools. I was their family lawyer. But Maryanne’s request came at a rather odd time. None of the associates at her business firm, nor the church members anticipated this.

Maryanne never wanted any property to be split. She was never interested in that. She wanted to breathe. Fresh air and a lease of new found sense and purpose within her life with no alarms. Unfortunately the alarms jostled her into realty.

Mirage Residence

May 6th 2017

Phase 3

0930hrs.

Maryanne calls her secretary.

Maryanne: Hi Ciku, I would be abit late today since my car broke down. Have to rush back home and pick hubby’s car.

Ciku: No problem boss. I’ll reschedule your day plans.

Maryanne: Thanks, you a Darling.

Maryanne makes a few calls to her mechanic and her car is towed away from the vicinity. She hates using public means. A snober. An idealist, a capitalist. Such irony, but she had her good side. Yes she was one heck of a beautiful woman. Goddamn every one eyed her. She was the type of woman who was composed, relaxed, never belittling men despite her success. And she loved her wine. Globetrotting she would go sampling different types of wines.

On this fateful day she heads back home to pick the other car. Her husband Njoroge was home. Probably asleep she thought. Njoroge was a commercial pilot. He would fly across to different cities in the world. His big matte black land cruiser stood elegantly at their car park. Maryanne was abit perplexed to find the door open. It was not normal, she assumed that her husband was up for jogging. Perhaps a leisure morning stroll while he smoked his hand made cigars from Cuba?

In she went and ascended the flight of stairs fast. She noticed that everything seemed normal. No need to panick about it. She picked her husbands car keys and headed back to town.

1035hrs.

Njoroge emerges from the servants quarters. He had been eyeing Wambo the house help for months now. Everytime he approached her,Wambo would resist his advances. He had even raised her salary but she kept declining.
Wambo was afraid of Maryanne due to her no nonsense and authoritarian behavior. She liked Njoroge alot. Her dreams and thoughts have been raging wild with Njoroge in mind. Fetishes and fantasies clouded her alot. He was the perfect man to climax her to cloud nine. He looked fatherly to her. Everything bout him would make her go numb on the knees. The butterflies she felt in her stomach was enough of a red flag to show her that common sense was running away. She liked how he took care of his family and how he handled her wife despite her many tantrums. He was calm and a collected guy.

She couldn’t because she promised to give herself to the man she would get married to. Her man Maina worked as a shamba boy two buildings away from her work place. They hailed from the same village in Nyandarua. Though lately she had been having a thing about her employer. Pray she did, vehemently. Cursing and rebuking out the demonic spirit that made her get attracted to another man other than Maina. She did fast day and night but the feeling didn’t go. It was clear that Njoroge treated her better and kindly than Maina. He devoted every attention to her. Telling Wambo how her smile melted his heart. Whenever he pointed his big bird in the air and he would see the beautiful scenery below as he took a turn in the skies, he would think of her.

1300hrs.

Maina and Wambo meet briefly outside Mr. Njoroge’s house. The watchman Kiarie dislikes Maina due to a bet he lost to him months ago. Water has never been sweet between them.

Kiarie: Wîna dagika ithâno cîa kûaria nake, Boss ékûo na ñdedéte igûta. (You have five minutes to talk with her. The boss is here. He doesn’t like idle people.)

Maina: Tigâ wéiru, ndîgiaria na mûtumia wakwa na thayû? Wé kindû umenyérete kunyîtaga nô mashûma má géti. (Stop the hatred, can’t I talk with my woman in peace? The only things you are used to cuddling are those cold metal gates.)

Kiarie: Arîa náke haraîhu na géti, ndîedéte îgutâ. (Talk with her away from the gate. I hate idling fools.)

Wambui:Niûgûo inyweré, Maina mwendwa, nikî giakurehé gûkû thaici na dî wirâ? (Enough you two. Maina my love, what brings you here at such a rather absurd time while I’m working?)

Maina:Nîkî hûwithaga na kûrega kûarîa thîku icî? (You have been ignoring and avoiding me lately.)

Wambo: Niûramenya boss ekûo, ndigihîtha na nyûme urîa ngwénda. (You know very well that the master is around. I can’t sneak out the way I want.)

Maina:Eé mûtumia wa nyumba ekô? (What of the missus?)

Wambo: Werá. (At work.)

Njoroge calls Wambo to run a certain errand for him. He has been drunk for the last two hours. The whiskey is taking effect on him. He wants to see her around him. Maina goes back to his work place dejected and broken. He hadn’t passed across what he wanted to say.

1330hrs.

Wambo heads to the supermarket to buy Njoroge his favorite brand of whiskey. She likes this part of the errand because her master tips her well. She swinged her hips on purpose whenever she was around Njoroge just to entice and make him salivate. Couple of times they made out but never made love. She was afraid because she never made love to anyone before.

The things she had done with Njoroge made her question her love for Maina. She was getting worried that she was getting hooked to a married man. How would the society judge her? A husband snatcher? Home breaker? The other woman in the picture? She battled with her conscience.

1500hrs.

Maryanne was visibly agitated. She couldn’t think of spending the night away from her husband. Most nights she slept alone. Njoroge came home at odd hours of the night. At times early morning. There were days he would spend two months away from home. Her husband hadn’t touched her for a month now. She needed to feel like a woman. She picks her phone from her handbag and calls him.

Maryanne: Hi babe. I wont be home tonight.

Njoroge: That’s unusual of you.

Maryanne: I’ll be working late. Plus I also needed to catch up with the girls. It’s been months now.

Njoroge: Okay. If you need anything just call me and stay safe.

Fate played into Njoroge’s hands well. He could not let this opportunity pass. “I can have Wambo all to myself tonight,” he thought. A coy smile played across his lips. A form of satisfaction as he licked his lips.

Equinox Club.

Thika.

2200hrs.

Maryanne forgot tonight that she was someone’s wife. She had been having issues with her hubby and a breather was all she needed. Marriage life was taking a toll on her. She tried her best.
Tonight she was with the girls. Drinking herself silly for the first time in months. Bubbly, giggly, lively and gorgeous she was. Opposite their table sat a young handsome man dressed in a nice fitting stripped shirt which showed his large biceps. His navy blue pants fit him well. A hunk he was. They flirted openly.

He rose from the table and went to the dance floor. Maryanne couldn’t let this chance slide. She went and danced with the huge biceps guy. Their movements swayed in unison. She gyrated unto him. A thing she never did to Njoroge. Then she kissed him and said, “I’m Maryanne, nice moves you’ve got there”. She went back to the girls table.

“Hi Maryanne, I’m Mark. Mind if I joined you girls?”

Damn. He was moving to their table.

The girls giggled and blushed silly. Within half an hour their table was full of whiskey and expensive cigars. Mark had brought along his friends. They clicked and mingled well with Maryanne’s pals. More shots were taken, more dancing, more kissing. Moralty was flushed down the toilet.

Equinox Parking Lot

2340hrs.

He held her hand and led her to the parking lot where by a car alarm clicked to unlock the doors. She had always been fascinated by men who drive Porsche Cayennes’. Dark maroon just like the way she always wanted.

Maryanne: Damn! Boy you sweeping me off my feet. A Cayenne?

Mark: Pretty right?

He moves closer and kisses her softly on her pink lips then again and again. A violent make out. He kissed her nake as a soft moan escaped her. She unbuttoned his shirt slightly. A taste of everything she wanted, a touch of everything she lusted.

Maryanne: Unhook my bra.

Mark lifts her chiffon blouse and unhooks the bra. Her tits were still perky despite having three children. He could feel her nipples erect on his hands as he caressed them.

Maryanne: Give them attention, suck them. I’m all yours.

Mark: Anything darling.

Maryanne: I’ve never had car sex before. We should stop it Mark.

Mark: Why now?

Maryanne lets out a rather loud moan as Mark’s hand gropes her voluptuous thighs and slides her panties to the side. She could feel her clit being terrorized with pleasure as he rubbed his fingers on her clit. She was getting wet and hot inside. It was time to leave.

May 7th 2017.

0000hrs.

Maryanne left the club in a hurry. She never told her girlfriends that she was leaving. Her head was spinning in circles. Home was all she longed for.
Fast she drove, the urge to get home was unbearable.”How could I let another man touch me in appropriately?” She wondered. “If only Njoroge would pay attention to my demands, I have been lonely for a long time.” She thought.

Mirage Residence

Maryanne’s and Njoroge’s House.

0130hrs.

Maryanne: Hubby I’m home.

She finds Njoroge with Wambo chatting in the living room. Her steps are uncoordinated.

“What are you doing with a lowly servant, when you supposed to be with me your wife?” She asked.

Njoroge: You are drunk. Can we talk it over in the morning?

Maryanne: No. I almost cheated on you today. I love you, but you never give me the attention I crave for and deserve.

Njoroge: Wambo. Thanks for passing by. You can go rest now.

Maryanne: Stay you whore. You not going anywhere. I have my pistol in my bag. Or I’d have to kill both of you.

Njoroge: I’m fed up with you.

Maryanne: I want a divorce from you. The last child is not yours.

Njoroge: What do you mean?

Maryanne: You left and went for long. I sired the last child with Kiarie the watchman. They have an uncanny resemblance.

Wambo: Sweet Mary Mother of Jesus. Jesooooooo.

Maryanne: Shut up.

Njoroge: It’s not true.

Maryanne: I couldn’t live anymore with this. You can have him all for grabs Wambo. He no longer has eyes for me. It’s over Njoroge.

0200hrs.

I received a call from Maryanne.

“Hi, I know it’s unusual for me to call you at such ungodly hours. Kindly prepare the divorce papers. I quit my marriage just to have my sanity.”

May 28th 2017.

Johannesburg.

Maryanne over looks the city down below from her balcony as she holds her glass of wine. A fine breeze blows through and she inhales and takes a deep breathe.

Just breathe.

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