My Loyal Cheat & other Stories

During the lockdown, my wife and I challenged ourselves to a love game of who would ask the most annoying question and get the other person angry. We were both certain she’d win because she never gets angry, and I’m quicker than a leopard to anger. I meant it to be extra-fun for the boring confinement.

I thought of a perfect punchline to get my darling Zine² angry but couldn’t think of anything likely to get on her nerves. Moments later, I had an idea, the only thing she plainly frowns at — Infidelity.

My wife Zine stared me in the face. That innocent look almost broke me down as I let out the question. Well, it was only a prank-game and because I needed to be meaner if I must win — I had to put up the act.

“I’ve been watching you. Of all people, why did it have to be Johnny? Why did you sleep with my best friend? How could you do that to us?”

Johnny would never do a thing like that to me. And as for my wife? Don’t even think about it. She’s a saint. (Or so I’d thought). I was only desperate to win our minor game, and it seemed to work. She turned grim if not green, just as I’d hoped the question would raise her nerves.

“Do you really want the truth?” my wife quivered, looking as sincere as ever.

My god. I was expecting something like — “what? How dare you!” Blah-blah-blah. And I would have said, “tara-a, I got you!” And then we’d both laugh out so loud and maybe fall in bed. Yes. That’s how it should have been, but unfortunately, now, things are going another way.

My wife cried, “honey, I’m sorry. I can’t explain what pushed me… we did it only once… no twice… I mean, four, five times… just five times. Ever since I’ve been wanting to stop, to take his memory off my head, but I just can’t. I’m so sorry, don’t know what pushed me into cheating on you in the first place,” she sputtered.

“No, honey…I know you’re joking. Me too, I’m just pulling your legs. Remember, it’s just a game. Sorry for having asked you that sensitive question. I know you are a virtuous woman, I just wanted to pull your legs baby…I know you can’t cheat on me, babe…”

“No honey. Moment of truth, right? I’ve been meaning to confess, but couldn’t bring myself to it,” her eyes burned with deep sincerity as she held my hands, and her lips parted once more for the words to escape.

“I did…I’ve been…it’s been going on for a while now…I’m so sorry. Please forgive me!”

“Shut up, woman! I said you did not cheat on me, plus I’m not enjoying this joke anymore,”.

“But baby, I’m sorry…I have…”

I couldn’t take it anymore, So I stormed out of the room.

Last night at the Country Club with my best friend Johnny, he boasted about this weird theory that all women are cheats. I told him to exempt my wife. I felt insulted, knowing my wife was a saint. To punish him, I asked for a bet on my wife. Five million bucks, should my wife fall for his secret advances.

Johnny was so sure that I can trust no man or woman that much and asked me to rethink my proposal. Well, judging by all the holly things that my wife indulged, her day-to-day gospel routine, and saintly lifestyle, I could swear on her behalf that no other man besides me has ever seen the colour of her panties…I even married her a virgin. To me, I would only be five million bucks richer.

Johnny had another idea. He suggested we involved a deity known to enforce oaths and agreements. I reminded him of the consequences of such a foolish idea. The deity strikes defaulters with two years of madness.

“Let’s go outside the box and make it more interesting. We will swear by Amadioha¹ the thunder deity. If I win, I get the money plus you go mad for two years. If you win, I go mad for two years, plus you get the money. Deal?”

For a moment I considered my best friend as mentally challenged. I would love to grab the five million bucks but never had the heart to watch my friend roam about the streets like a lunatic.

“Are you kidding me now? Amadioha? This is just a bet, nothing serious. Beside you will lose anyway, why risk it?” I’d asked Johnny confidently.

“If you’re so sure of winning, why not accept the challenge and let me worry about the consequences?”
Johnny played on my ego, and I took the bait.

“Game on!” I screamed.

“You’re up!” Johnny whispered with a suspicious grin.
We drove down to the Amadioha shrine downtown and signed a blood bond.

I returned home that night (last night) feeling a little guilty. Guilty for having statutorily sentenced my best friend to Madness, because I knew he had no chance of getting past my wife’s nakedness. I felt so guilty. I couldn’t sleep that night.

The next morning (this morning), I woke up feeling bored. I needed some distraction, so I engaged my wife in the ask-till-you-spark-game, and we had fun until I brought up Johnny’s name.

My thoughts went wide. Why was Johnny so keen about my wife not being faithful? He sounded so sure. I got more confused. I needed to get more facts. I stormed back into the house.

I met Zine on the floor crying.

“How long has this been going on?” I’d yelled at her, and she quivered.

“Two…two weeks. Please, I’m sorry. It was a mistake…”

“You said five times…five times! You’ve f****d him five good times?”

She didn’t reply…there was a long beat, then I continued.

“So which of the times was a mistake?” I whispered with sarcasm.

“The first one. He seduced me. I would not open my legs. But it was the devil…”

“Yeah right! As usual. The devil flew right behind you, lifted your butt and slammed it right on top of his d**k? Or the devil himself helped him spread your legs? Answer me!”

Zine cried.

“Let me have your phone!”

For the first time since our five years of marriage, I browsed through my wife’s text messages. There was nothing implicating on her inbox and so I checked her outbox. I froze. The first message had gone to a certain Jay Love. (Rage and jealousy didn’t let me check the delivery time and other details).

The text read: you touch me so deep, even God has never done.

What? I pinched myself to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. I felt my warm body slowly gaining temperature as the friction of anger and desperation caused my fingers to shiver while I scrolled to the next message:

"I never knew I had fun in me until I met you. Thanks for reinventing me baby."

Is my wife of five years being reinvented by another man? Let me just die already. I tried to picture what the reinvention looked like and saw my wife screaming harder-harder-harder. I stopped imagining at once and read on:

"so sorry we couldn’t see today. Mr. Boring-boring was at home all-day."

Mr. Boring? Dear lord…me? I got fed up. About dropping the phone when I saw the scariest one:

"I won’t go to church today. I lied to the IDIOT I’m sick. Hmmm. You won’t go to church too, I guess?"

I felt a sudden rushing in my head, my eyes went dim, and my pulse went numb. I needed to avoid the impending heart attack, but a greater part of me urged me on, and somehow I found courage. All my hairs stood still as I read to see what would come next, and then it came like a thunderbolt:

"how about we both worship in my temple today?"

That was the last text I read. The last straw. The bone-cracking, jaw-breaking, last straw. I exploded.

“How dare you, Zine! Why? Why?”

I struggled to hold back the mist in my eyes, but then there was no better way of easing my heavy heart than to let go of the tears…I never knew a man could cry like a baby.

“Kikikikiki!” my wife suddenly laughed like a mischievous hyena.

“I got you. I told you, you can’t beat me. I’m so sorry, baby. But that look, though. Poor you. Hahahaha.”

She laughed even louder and rolled on the floor.

“Baby, so you believed I could cheat on you?” Zine asked amid laughter.

“Wait, you didn’t?” my face divided, half confused, half hopeful.

“Hell, no way! What do you take me for?”

“But the texts? I saw…you saved the number…as Johnny…” I stuttered.

“You didn’t bother to check the number, did you?”
I grabbed the phone again and clicked on the number — it was my old office line.

I couldn’t help but laugh my lungs out. I never knew my wife could be so creative. I thought I was winning, but she literally turned the table around in one swing.

“I’m sorry I made you cry, darling…” she said with a sweet voice.

“You’re such a genius. Come here, you prankster…” I said with a deep breath and then kissed her with my eyes tightly shut.

That was the longest thirty minutes of my life, ever. It was scarier than any nightmare.

“So, what do we do next?” Zine asked, with her eyes hovering around my groin area.

“I don’t know baby. You decide. You’re in charge now. You won, remember?”

“Maybe we should try another round,” she whispered into my ears with a cheeky smile.

“No way”, I screamed, and she laughed harder.
I held my wife so tight, and my thoughts ran wide with imagination of the many things that would’ve gone wrong.


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See you at the next chapter.

Bianca lived in Lagos with her husband to whom she was married for 15 years. They'd tried everything medically possible to break their 15 years childless spell, but all efforts failed. She even suggested a new family doctor but her husband bluntly refused. To crown it all, he seemed so relaxed with their childlessness.

Her husband’s family began mounting so much pressure on him to either divorce her, or take a second wife, but he refused. This made them aggressive , accusing her of influencing their son not to accept getting a second wife who can bear him children. They also concluded that she had him locked under witchcraft control.

Her 60 year old mother-in-law led the campaign, but then Bianca understood the plight of the aging woman. Most Nigerian mothers whose children are yet to bear children, would be desperate for grandchildren at 60.

Bianca's best friend Ola, advised her to opt for adoption but Bianca's husband rejected the idea, a