By Damali of Kyanjja:
I did what I knew to do best – ensure there was no trace of me on him.
“I love you,” he said as he pulled his pants back on, walking towards me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Will I see you tomorrow,” he asked.
“Tomorrow?” Surprised by his question, I turned to slip back into my dress and walked to him, turning around for him to zip up the back for me.
We had met three months prior to this event. Yes, it was an event. We spoke about life, work and love. We also spoke about dreams; those we have managed to achieve, those we had to let go of, and spaces we wish remained sacred to us alone. He mentioned his wife. He loves her. He loves their kids. Two girls and a boy. He does not want more but she is pregnant again. She is also one of those – no sex while pregnant, so he needs an outlet. I am just me – I love sex and with a good partner.
We do not talk about my life. I am careful to reveal little. He says that men cheat because they love their wives, and went on to explain that that was why they would always return home to their wives. I get that.
The chemistry was palpable. We understood each other without saying much. We understood that each had to return home, whatever that looked like for the other. Today was different. The tension needed to be relieved and so we used an unlikely place.
“I love you,” he said, again.
“It’s getting late, and your wife must be waiting,” I said.
Walking to me and drawing me close, he merely looked deep into my eyes. There was so much empty emotion – it meant nothing to me. I could tell that he was convinced about the emotions meaning something for him. But how could he allow that to happen to him? After all, men cheat because they love their wives.
“Sometime soon, perhaps?” I offered.
He smiled, and kissed my forehead.
I stepped away to inspect him. No lipstick on the shirt. My perfume is too light to stick on anyone. It was not wild, so there would be no scratches on his arms or back. No trace of me – of us – on him. He could return to his wife as he left, except for looking a little tired.
As we said goodbye, we exchanged one last look and I knew that I would be seeing him again for what will no longer be an event. I watched him drive off, before calling my usual cab guy. I had intentionally left the car nearer to my work place. A 15 minute drive, give or take, and in another 10 minutes from then, I would be home.
A sudden excitement crept into my stomach. I recognized it. I only ever felt this way about one person – my truest love. Three years of marriage, and it has been everything I imagined it to be; near heaven. He would be waiting and I could not wait to dine with him and snuggle in his loving arms.
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