PART 2: TOBI
The first time I met Tiwa, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that she would be my wife. She was and still is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, with a waist so small and hips just wide enough.
With lips so full and inviting, all I wanted to do within the first few months of meeting her was kiss her! It was scary. She would be talking and all I would be able to think of was the taste of her, the feel of her. It took all I had to maintain normalcy in her presence. After some time I began to notice other virtues, virtues that strengthened my resolve to make her mine. She was the most caring person I had ever met. She was caring to a fault! I used to wonder how she survived so long without being taken advantage of. She was smart, self-sufficient and funny. I mean what were the odds of finding a beautiful girl that had a killer sense of humor in Lagos!
It took some convincing, impressive wooing skills and patience I didn’t know I had, but Tiwa eventually became mine. Out of all the guys chasing her, whispering sweet promises to her, lavishing her with expensive gifts, she chose me. It was my single greatest accomplishment, an accomplishment I knew I didn’t deserve.
Then came the hard part. After she agreed to date me, I was looking forward to making every inch of her mine, but Tiwa told me something shocking. She said we had to wait until we got married before having sex. I was crushed! I had already waited so long. Even during the period I was ‘talking’ to her I made a painful conscious decision to abstain from other willing ladies and wait for my queen.
I could tell it wasn’t easy for her, I knew she loved me, I could see it in her eyes, but she insisted. She said if I loved her I would wait. When I asked her if she had been with anyone else, a fierce look flashed through her eyes before she said no.
While we dated, we hardly touched each other, no hugging, no kissing, no foreplay, even when we held hands I could tell she was uncomfortable. When I asked her, she always reassured me it was because she was so attracted to me, she had to hold back, to stay strong and keep herself from savouring me. I believed her, how could I not. She was my Tiwa, my babe who constantly showed me anyway she could how much she loved me.
Back then, I thought it was because of her religion she acted that way, a belief I also shared but hadn’t been able to abide by. Her resolve to abstain endeared her to me even more, not only was she all these things but she was also Godly.
Now, it’s two months post honeymoon and I am miserable. Tiwa and I have only had sex a handful of times. Each time is more painful and embarrassing than the last. I practically have to beg Tiwa, my own wife to make love to me. Each time she does, her eyes cloud over and she becomes so still. I feel like I’m making love to a corpse.
I’ve tried everything, I’ve asked her what the problem is, I’ve tried seducing her with words, gifts, touch, nothing works.
Today something happened. Something I never thought could happen. I press my palms together to keep them from shaking but it doesn’t help.
I can hear Tiwa, the love of my life, the wife of my youth, crying in the bathroom.
I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t, but I had had a long day. It was especially long because my secretary, Kemi, who is very hot and very available and has been dropping hints of wanting me finally made a bold move. I rejected her of course. I am a married man! A married man whose wife doesn’t think is man enough.
When I got home, Tiwa had dinner ready. She looked so hot in her t-shirt and bum shorts, hotter than Kemi.
I decided to try again, but as usual, she locked up. So instead of convincing her, instead of begging and hours of useless foreplay. I got mad. I didn’t mean to, but I tore her stupid t-shirt and ripped off her shorts. When she started to beg me, I became even more angry. The angrier I got, the harder I became. I slapped her pretty mouth and told her to shut up. I went in over and over again, at least this time she was showing emotion, even if it was pain. I bit her lips until she bled, I wanted her to suffer like I was suffering. When I was spent and satisfied, I looked at my wife for the first time since the madness came over me. She lay naked on the floor unmoving and bruised, like a wounded animal. I touched her but she didn’t respond, sometime during my madness she had stopped begging and screaming; she had stopped fighting. I moved her bleeding face carefully until I could see her eyes, they had a familiar fierce look about them. It was then I understood what that look was, it was a look of fear. Tiwa, my own wife was looking at me like I was a monster. I couldn’t take it, I couldn’t bear to look at my reflection in her eyes so I left her there naked and bleeding. I left the love of my life and went to get wasted.
It’s been more than a few hours since I got back and she has refused to come out of the bathroom. I’ve told her sorry several times, I’ve even sworn on my dead father’s grave to never do it again but she is ignoring me. I don’t know how things got so bad between us. I still love her, I still want her, but part of me hates her so much for turning me into a monster. Maybe I should forget her and focus on Kemi.