" He doesn't love you! " My head said.
“He does.” My heart disagreed.
I looked at my watch, it was 8:00 pm on the dot. My back was leaning against the fence, my legs crossed in front of me. Waiting. I was outside my gate, and the night was still young with a few stars in the sky. A few passersby walked past now and then. By the side of the fence, I could see my mother's garden where she planted some vegetables and peppers. It reflected under the light of the stars. It was fenced around with sticks and covered with a net to protect it from pests and insects.
Sugar. That's what I called him. He was known for always turning up late for our appointments. Once, he even stood me up at an eatery we had agreed to meet. It was on a Friday afternoon, I still remember. I had arrived and waited for more than an hour but he never showed up. When we met later, he said he had forgotten. He had a habit of always telling me he loved me, yet his actions spoke differently.
I stamped my feet to ward off the mosquitoes trying to drill their needles into my legs. I was becoming restless and sweat had begun to trickle down the sides of my face and under my arm. If he stood me up again, I thought, this would be the last. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialed his number again.
“Hello sweetness,” he responded from the other end.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I'm close to you, you'll see me in the next five minutes, I promise.”
“Okay.”
About fifteen minutes later, I saw a figure swaggering down the road towards me, I knew it was him, with that nonchalant gait and a bit of a bow leg. He looked slender, yet towering because of his broad chest. I sauntered towards him, a sour look on my face.
“Why did it take you so long?” I asked almost in a hurry.
“I'm sorry, dear, I had something to do at work, and it delayed me; I'm so sorry,” he responded, reaching out to pull me into his arms. I hugged him, even though we hadn't seen nor spoken in over three weeks, even though the last time we had talked, he had told me he didn't want the relationship anymore and had left me broken. I pulled away and searched his face in the dark. It was hard to see, but I could see his big white eyes. I said,
“You kept me out here for so long.”
“I know,” he responded, “I'm sorry.”
Some minutes later we were sitting on some cement molds opposite my gate. I kept staring into space, I knew I had called for a meeting, but I didn't know what to say. I had so many questions. He reached out and took my hand, and said,
" What happened to us, Mmeyene?"
What happened to us? I thought. “You happened to us!” I said.
He looked at me and saw I was upset, “I'm sorry,” he said.
“You're always sorry.”
“I admit, I had cold feet, I wasn't sure I _”
“You weren't sure? So why do you keep coming back?” I turned and looked at him now. “Why do you keep walking in and out of my life as you please? What did I do to you?”
He said he was sorry, he said it would never happen again, and that he would love me better now; I believed him. That was the second time we were breaking up and coming back together.
A week later, my best friend and I were attending an end-of-the-year party organized by a singing group we were part of. Sugar was friends with a lot of people in the group including my best friend, Grace. So I didn't find it strange when she invited him. During the party, we sat together, the three of us, eating, drinking, and chatting. It was a round table party, though we sat on cushions with a table at the center full of drinks and all sorts of food. Behind us, there was a music stereo playing “You're Still the One” by Shania Twain. But I noticed Sugar wasn't interested in talking to me, he seemed to be so engrossed in his discussions with Grace. I found it strange but assumed perhaps it was because they were good friends.
About an hour later, I stood up to go use the restroom.
“I'll be back, Grace,” I said. She nodded. Then I waved at Sugar as I walked past him, he nodded while sipping at a can of malt with a straw. About ten minutes later, I walked back into the room and suddenly paused for a minute as I struggled to reconcile my emotions with what was in front of me. My best friend was spoon-feeding my boyfriend with food, and they didn't seem to flinch an inch when they saw me. I blinked severally and shook my head in disapproval, but they went on like I wasn't there. So I stood there looking at them for a while, then I walked up slowly to my seat and sat down.
After the party, Grace and I decided to walk home since we both lived close to the party venue. Sugar opted to escort us, and we agreed. But I was quiet most of the way because all he did was talk to Grace. When he noticed I was quiet, he walked up close and squeezed my hand,
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.
I nodded and smiled, “yeah, I'm fine,” I said.
“Okay,” he responded with a smile, then let go of my hand and continued with his discussion. I felt so neglected. But I kept telling myself that it was okay since they had been friends long before I even dated him. It was okay for friends to catch up, I couldn't compete with that. When we reached the T-junction that separated my house from Grace's house, I was to go one way, and she was to go the other way. So I said bye-bye to Grace and held Sugar's hand, hoping that he would come with me, but instead, he let go of my hand and said,
“I'm sorry dear, but I have to walk Grace home.”
I looked at him and couldn't believe what he had just said, but because I didn't want to get into a fight with my friend or him, I nodded quietly and said, “Okay.”
Then I turned and walked away; he stood there staring at me for a while, and then I heard his footsteps recline.
The next day, he called and said he wanted to see me and that he missed me; I agreed. And by 7 pm that day, I was at his workplace. It was an electronic repair shop, a square compartment with wooden shelves attached to the walls where different electronic devices and gadgets were displayed. In front of the shop, a woman stood under a yellow bulb, selling fried plantain and yam.
I rushed to hug him the moment I saw him, he burst into laughter when I held him for too long.
“How are you?” He asked after I had released him. He was seated on a plastic chair.
“I'm fine,” I said and planted a kiss on his forehead, then sat down beside him on another chair.
A few minutes after we started talking, his phone rang. He didn't pick. So I pointed at it and said, “Your phone, it's ringing.”
He said, “Oh, okay,” and picked it up from the shelf.
“Hello,” he said into the phone.
“Hi dear,” a female voice answered.
I listened, “How are you doing?” He asked. And it was the same endearing tone he used whenever he was on a call with me.
When he was done, I asked, “Who is she?”
He said, “She, who?”
My eyes bulged out. I was quiet for a long time and he said nothing. Then he got up and said he had to go, that there was somewhere important he had to be. I nodded like a zombie then stood up and went home. Two days later, I called my best friend, Grace, and told her I wanted to see her, and she agreed. About an hour later I sat in her living room.
“I need the truth G,” I said. “I want us to be sincere with each other. Are you and Sugar seeing each other?” I asked quietly.
She sighed and said, “Well, we are not dating, but he has been making advances for a long time now. I haven't said yes, but I must confess that I like him.”
“How long has he been making advances?”
“Since before you both started dating. I think you were sort of a rebound to him since I didn't agree.”
I sat there staring down at my hands for a long time.
“I'm sorry Mmeyene,” she said. But I wasn't angry with her, I didn't blame her. I blamed Sugar and I blamed myself for being fooled. For seeing all the signs from the first day but refusing to connect the dots and liberate myself from the sham. So I got up and went home, then called him and ended the relationship.
It wasn't easy, it took more than a year to get myself back and to get over it, but I got through it. And I'm glad I did.
Mmeyene Joseph