Mistress in Distress

                                                       02/02/2016

Seun checked the wall clock for the umpteenth time.
9:00pm.
This was really disturbing. She picked up her phone and dialled his number.
Again.
No answer.
Again.
She was pacing around the living room now, walking off her worry. He was supposed to have come home by 7:30, 8pm at the very latest. And he usually called or sent a message on bbm just before leaving the office. Why would today be any different?
She realized she was dialling his number yet again, and was a bit freaked out to see that she’d tried calling him 17 times. No answer again. She typed him a hasty text message; NOT FUNNY, CALL ME! and decided to distract herself for about 30 more minutes, else she’d go insane with fear and worry. Abi was kidnapping now a thing in this same Abuja???!

She busied herself dishing and warming up his dinner. She left the plate sitting in the microwave even after it stopped spinning, then gathered up a few dirty dishes to wash.
It was irrelevant, this dish-washing she was doing, but it kept her hands busy and her heartbeat normal. After that she went into the bedroom and changed the sheets she’d been too lazy to change earlier. It took a conscious effort not to look up at the huge clock opposite the bed, but she was determined. She’d hear his car outside any minute now, she was sure of it. She finished with the bed and stood there, head lowered to avoid the clock, listening keenly.
Nothing. He still wasn’t back. She walked quickly to the kitchen, got a long-handled broom, then went to sweep the bedroom. That done, she couldn’t help it anymore.
There were tears in her eyes as she dialled him again. Still nothing. She was breathing fast. It was a quarter to ten at night! Steve hadn’t contacted her since noon when he went on his lunch break. What if there’d been an accident?
“Oh God, please, no, let him be safe, please…”
Pulling herself together a little bit, she remembered she had the number of one of his colleagues, Clara. The connection was bad and she got through to her around 10:40pm.
She could tell Clara had been asleep, but this was important. A groggy Clara told her that, no, she didn’t know where Michael was. Yes, he had left the office before her, and maybe he went out with his guy friends?
Seun begged Clara to send the phone number of any of the guys Mike could possibly be hanging out with, and called immediately the text came in.
Joe’s responses were pretty much the same; no, Mike wasn’t with him, no, he didn’t know where he could be, and could Seun please not put him in trouble with his wife next time and not call so late?
Seun was a watery bundle of nerves. This man would not kill her. Where the hell was he???

                    *                   *                *

Michael opened his eyes, feeling highly refreshed already. That was one super worthwhile nap. All because he couldn’t say no when his friend Frank offered him a plate of beans and plantain. God, that food was sweet! He didn’t even know when he passed out on Frank’s couch. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his phone. 7 text messages. 1 of them from Mira; “Junior wore me out today, plus this useless Lagos traffic. He’s asleep now so let me sleep too. Talk tomorrow, love you. ”
He checked his call log.
37 missed calls, all from Seun.
His girlfriend.

Yours,
@MsMeddle

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Spill the tea, sis.

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