One day, Uncle Ex doesn’t return home from work, I had an idea where he spent the night, some male friend of his in the town he worked, Mr Steve we called him, a verbose former colleague of his.
Mrs Steve was supposedly my friend. I remember going for their wedding in the East during my NYSC days, after paying big bride price, when they kept asking for more money, Mr Steve goes to his car and tells his wife, meet me at home. Lol.
So I went to the Steve’s house the next morning and behold my husband in their living room. We talk and probably spend the weekend together.
Uncle Ex then convinces me that there was need for him to rent a small place in the town he worked saying returning home everyday had become stressful; the same town we relocated from. How I didn’t read through this ploy still baffles me.
He finds a small place, rents it, I go there to clean it. When he comes to move some of our stuff, the Landlord calls me at work to tell me “your husband dey pack” I said no problem. So we had two places.
And I thought everything was good. If only I knew.