I ran out of the ball
I know you might think I’m echoing the Cinderella story, but I’m not.
No, my slipper wasn’t that of glass.

I ran.
Straight into the parking lot and started looking for the chauffeur. I was going to Kitengela to save my marriage. To beg the father of my child to make things right between us.
I had to get there before the news of my engagement got to him.

I had said yes to Kyle. But only to avoid embarrassing him. It was subconscious. I ran out right after he put that 7carat diamond ring on my finger. I recognised the ring because I’d one time hinted at how nice it would feel to own it.

All this time I was trying to think of ways I could have my cake and eat it. Get the money and still keep the love of my life.

Because Mark showed me a passion so igniting. And his head game?
Well I know you guys know Kyle was good. But with Mark, it was different.

Plus Kyle has HIV. No way I’m letting that man near me sexually. I had been lucky enough to escape the jaws of eternal condemnation.

“Yo Brian, where’s Mark?” I asked his best friend immediately I got to the party. No time for small talk. I needed to make sure he heard the news from the horse’s mouth.

I had changed into jeans as I had passed home to breastfeed. I needed the benefit of comfortability.

The place was swarming with half drunk grown ups. Everyone was staring.
Bloody tell me where my husband is!! The 7 carat bling overshadowing my wedding band.

And then Mark walked in. His normally jovial face, masked with anger. Grief. Disappointment, or maybe he was just drunk.
He passed me on the patio and went straight into the house saying hi to everyone else.
Here we go again. A bout of man moods.

I waited for him. He came out, drink in hand.
God knows I love the liquor breath on my man. I was leaning on a car.
I pulled him to myself. He signaled that we sit.

“Mark baby we need to talk. You need to listen so we can sort. I have shocking but amazing news. I’ve landed a gold mine.”

“No Robin. I’m drunk. I didn’t come here to talk. I came here for Jansen’s party, not to have a couple’s conversation.”

This was going to be difficult. Dealing with his dismissive nature was mentally exhausting.
All these years but this man still gave my nerve endings an awakening. Breath on breath. I was craving his lips. I was tired of the fighting. Maybe Kyle’s fortune was what would save us. I pulled him to Jimmy’s car.

We got in. My real intention was to tell him what I had done and what I wanted.  But, you know sometimes you just cannot explain the sexual power surges that go through your veins. I was on top of him,  our crotches in a slight dalliance, kissing my man vehemently. Mine. My man.

The whiskey I was drowning myself in on my way to Kitengela was kicking in.

Lip biting.
It was just like the first time.

Three seconds into conversation and chill and my top was off.

Oh Mark you just get me!!

I was nibbling on his neck how he loved it and nothing at that time gave me more satisfaction than hearing his whimpers. His rapid breathing, blood was definitely gushing to the right places.

All this while he was grabbing my ass and taking off my pants.
Have you had angry sex before in a friend’s car at a party with everyone else looking in on you but you don’t care?
The thrill of the forbidden fruit…

And the riding began. I felt like I was feeding my heart. Looking right into his eyes as he let my name out in low voiced moans.
He occasionally bickered about how I needed to get off him and stop.

Hell nah. I needed to show him what he was going to miss in on if he continued to drift off.
I mean, I was willing to overlook his shortcomings. I was willing to forgive him and build our love a fresh.

We switched and he was now on top of me.
Jimmy came to the car to get more drinks but that didn’t stop us. It was practically an open show for those who unintentionally came to the car only to find us.
We didn’t care.

Sweet love making. Slow thrusts with precise grabbing. And then he stopped to eat me out.

Jeso!
This tongue. This tongue was made for me.
And we were back at it.
My head was practically out the other side of the car but we didn’t care. And with each stroke I was letting out loud moans and this excited him more.

And then he stopped. He just stopped and ordered me to dress up.
What?
Please usiwai fanyia mschana ii ujinga. Smh. How do you stop someone mid-sex??

“I came to this party to have fun. Not to hang out in a car and waste time with you. If I wanted that I’d have stayed home. This is not talking. Let us talk since you wanted to so bad, I’ve got a few things I need to say as well…”

I tried to seduce him into continuing but he was done.

“Mark I have tried so hard. I’ve ran out of ways to keep us together. I just need your final decision. Tell me. Do you want this? Do you still love me? I don’t care about what you’ve done, I just need to know if we’re together or getting divorced. I’m tired…”

He cut me off. He assured me that he loved me, but was in a dilemma. Naturally I asked and his response dried my pussy in an instant.

“Shanice is pregnant,” he said.

“Yeah, so what? Good for her. What does that have to do with our marriage?”

I was playing coy but I knew what he was going to say.

“I’m responsible. I got her pregnant. I’m sorry, you know I love you with all my heart, but I need time. I need to think about things. I need to know as well if you’ll wait till I can sort this out.”

What do you mean sort this out? You’re my husband. An array of thoughts were now tormenting my mind.
An abortion was the only way to sort it out, until I found out that she was due in a month’s time.
Shanice was Mark’s colleague and old time friend.

It doesn’t end there. He went on to rumble about how he was in love with another. Stephanie if I’m not wrong, and that’s where I had had it!
Stephanie? The girl he constantly denied ever having an affair with. It all brewed under my nose. I should have smelt it.
He would constantly go on trips with her. They were friends, plus she was married. I trusted him.
😢
Everything he said after that is still a blurr. I dressed up, went into the house where everyone was giggling, far from the brink of sobriety. Maybe it was because I had only one shoe on and my hair was a mess from the car action. I got a few shots and decided I was leaving. Everything was just too much to take in all at once.

I went back to get my shoe and when he sarcastically congratulated me on my engagement, I told him to expect divorce papers in a week’s time, that I would be happy if he signed.
I took off my wedding ring and handed it to him.
I had lost the will to fight and it was the last he would see of me in person.
How do I fight for a man who was giving up on me? At the expense of our marriage and child? A man who was handing out semen like it was sweets at a party.

The pain. My tears.
Stephanie? Shanice? I was done.

                 ~a month later~                 

I’m standing on this altar looking upon all my guests. I have an expensive dress on. An expensive ring on. An extravagant life ahead. A sickly Kyle by my side. A huge smile on my face, but immense grief in my heart.

Shanice was giving birth on the same day I was getting married to Kyle.

It’s okay.
I was doing this for my child’s future. I was doing this to secure my financial needs as well as Mark’s but he didn’t see it.  I consoled myself.

I cannot be miserably heartbroken as well as broke. I needed to pick a struggle.

Kyle would soon die and I would wipe my tears away with Louis Vuitton handkerchiefs. It was better than fighting with Mark in an apartment I was struggling to pay for. Or was it?

It’s okay. We can’t have it all.
I hope you are happy Mark.
I hope Shanice is what you really wanted. Sorry, I mean Stephanie.

I have met my husband, and it was never you.