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TWISTED: It was a pretty decent evening. We're at a bar enjoying good music and drinks. I tried to avoid her gaze as I kept asking myself what I was doing here with her. I'd broken up with her earlier that day. I told her it was for the best; she was getting married and moving to Port Harcourt. I could feel her gaze on me. I busied myself with the drops of water from my bottle of drink. I began to draw silly patterns on the table. "Would you like another bottle?" she asked. I looked at my bottle, I'd barely touched it. I shook my head and said no. She finished up her drink and signaled for a waiter. She ordered for more drinks for both of us. I started to protest but it fell on deaf ears. She shot me a look that made me squirm in my seat. My phone rang, it was a girl I had planned to meet that day. She grabbed my phone before I could. She looked at the caller ID. I couldn't tell what was going on in her head. "So who is this one calling?" "she's just a friend. I was supposed to see her today." "Are you f***king her?" I was. But there was no way I was going to tell her that. Not right now at least. "I'm talking to you. Look at me." I obeyed. I looked at her. She was either hurt or annoyed or both and I couldn't bear to look at her face. My gaze rested on her breasts; they were one of my favorite things about her. Today they looked bigger, they looked like they were about to break free from her t-shirt. I found myself wondering if she was wearing a bra. "I guess you keeping quiet means you are f***king her. Right?" I'm not a snitch. Let her do her worst. She signaled for the waiter and asked for our bill. She paid. "Let's go." she got up and I followed. We walked to her car and got in. The drive was painfully quiet. I wanted to turn the radio on, anything to break the silence. I decided to enjoy the scenery... it was too dark to see much. I heard her sigh. She turned the music on. Usher's "how do I say" began to play. I rolled my eyes. Perfect! I sat up and turned to her when I realized that she had passed my route home. She gave me a look that said "don't even say a word" and returned her focus to the road. I looked down at her laps. She was putting on a cute brown shorts. I had a nice view of her lovely thighs. She has this habit of running her hand through her hair when she's pissed. It was cute. She leaned into her seat as she raised her left leg and rested it on the door. That was when I saw it. She was soaking wet. I couldn't look away. Like moth to flame I was drawn to the wetness. My hands itched to feel it. I looked at her breasts and saw her nipples looking perky. I wondered how she'd react if I touched them. I didn't wait for my brain to provide an answer when I reached out and touched her wet crotch. She gasped lightly. She didn't look away from the road. I waited for her to react, but the gasp was all I got. I began to caress her p**sy through her shorts. I undid the button and unzipped her shorts, then I slid my hand inside. I felt my head spin slightly at how wet and warm her p**sy felt. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. I slid a finger in her p**sy and then another. She gasped and moaned a little. She hit the accelerator and the car sped. I stopped stroking her p**sy and wanted to take out my hand. She quickly held my hand with her thigh. She began to move her hips urging me to continue. I picked up where I stopped and continued to slowly stroke her p**sy. I could tell she loved my fingers inside her. As she drove towards her estate, I quickened my pace, she began to shudder. I pulled my hand out and she looked at me, hurt. I smiled as I put my hand in my mouth and licked off the juices on my fingers. The car came to a halt as we had reached our destination. She turned off the engine and turned to me. She pulled me close and ground her lips against mine. She kissed me like her life depended on it. She bit my lips and broke the kiss...

As her lips explored every edge of mine, with her big palms cupping my 36 C sized boobs, my mind was playing tricks with me, instead of getting my head in the game and savour every moment with my girlfriend of 13 months, my vagabonding mind chose to note irrelevant constants about Toju like her minty breath, her soft succulent lips, her small rounded nose, her hazel eyes which not many Nigerians obviously have… She deepened the kiss and I parted my lips even more to encourage her despite the fact that I wasn’t feeling any of it. Toju is a terrible kisser.*Was* maybe, as she had gotten better with time compared to how horrible she was when we first started, with her tongue lapping the whole of my face like a dog, submerging it in saliva. It had taken tutorials from me to get her ameliorated. My hands went to grab her bum, the very feature that first arrested my attention. The way it filled out the seat of her pants, spreading out in curves and highlighting every edge, swinging from side to side had beckoned to me in an inaudible “come to me Livia” and I had gone. Sensing my straying mind, Toju rolled over, taking me with her so that I am on top straddling her. But I was too lost to even make love to her. She was fondling my funbags, still trying to encourage me, I dropped small kisses on her face as her hand slowly worked its way down to my navel, to my mound with thicket of hair and then into my v.jay and the hand stopped moving. For 20 seconds it remained still inside me while her eyes burning with hurt drilled holes inside my apologetic ones, For all the time that we've spent in foreplay, there wasn’t a drop of wetness in me. Gradually, she withdrew, pushed me off her and went straight to the bathroom without a word. “Who is she?” She asked me after spending well over 15mins in the bathroom. I sensed she may have been crying when she came back to bed. I could choose to pretend not to understand her question, but I’d be making her more angry by feigning ignorance. So I said “I'm sorry, baby I truly am”. Toju isn’t one to talk too much, she simply turned her back to me in an inaudible “good night”. No, the night was far from good, it was indeed the longest and agonizing of all, with me turning and tossing and her sniffing and whimpering until first light. Looking at our faces in the morning while she packed her things, you would think we had just finished participating in the Lagos Marathon. The look in her eyes while she walked out the door, was priceless, though she said nothing to me, but I could feel the love dissipate and in replacement, unquantifiable hatred. I just broke a heart, the heart that had given me nothing but love. That was 6 months ago, now standing before the mirror with a black eyed face staring back at me and a naked Jezebel in my bed, thinking about all that went down, the only conclusion I could reach for my predicament is karma. I was with Toju for 13 months and not one day did we fight, but since the first week with this Jezebel, fighting was all we did. How I ended up losing the best thing that ever happened to me because of a devilish lust for ‘Karashika' remains unfathomable. All I could say was that the forces that conjoined to do this to me very well succeeded.. but mama always said that mistakes happen so we can learn. I made a mistake and I want to make it right because I have learned. So, summoning every courage, I left a note for Jezebel, telling her I was done and needed her out of my apartment before I got home from work… Surprisingly, she left. I had expected her to revolt, but I guess she thought her own way of making me pay superseded any resistance, NO, it didn't. The 32inches LCD TV that she broke, the wardrobe she emptied, the iPad she took, the international passport she shredded, and the little change she took didn’t supersede me getting back my freedom and life. The next day, I went in search of my lost love. In the times that I was with Toju, I didn’t do much visiting, perhaps two or three times and it had been on her invitation. She preferred us staying at my place and always pointed out how small and cozy it is as against her large and uncomfortable one. As I drew near the estate gate, my heart became an untamed betrayal with a thump thump thump palpitation that formed danceable rhythm to my ears. What would I say to her? How would she look at me? These questions tugged at me as I brought my car to a halt right in front of her house... Brace up Livia, what’s the worse that can happen? She would slam the door in your face, NO, spit on you, NO, empty a bucket of water on you, NO, empty of jug of urine on you, MORE LIKE IT.. Three seconds after pressing the door bell, a lanky man suspected to be in his fifties but with boyish look answered. “Good evening sir, I’m here to see Toritseju” “Errmm.. who are you?” “Livia, we are friends” “Are you really?” What was he asking? Am I really friends with Toju? What kind of question is that? “Toju passed last month. All her friends were at the funeral” A tremor of uncertainty began in my belly and spread out into my limbs. Reminding myself that it was April 1st, and it’s highly possible that this stranger was making a fool out of me, I burst into uncontrollable laughter, “kwakwakwakwakwakwa” But this was a very expensive joke, people Should be banned from playing these April 1st pranks.. The stranger gawped at me in obfuscation When I was able to catch my breath, I said “please sir don’t play April Fools day with me” “What kind of a person uses death as prank? You think I’d go about telling people my wife is dead to make jokes? Please get the hell out of here” and so, my first premonition of Toju slamming the door in my face happened after all, only that in this case, she didn’t slam it, HER HUSBAND did.” As I lay in bed that night thinking that how I drove home would forever remain a mystery, my eyes burned with incipient tears. I never did understand what people mean when they say life is cruel until now, perhaps it’s because I never lost anyone before. Three days dragged by in millipede steps, work forgone, food nauseating and my life crashing before my eyes. On the fourth day, because I had run out of excuses, I reluctantly got dressed for work. As I wasn’t in the mood for anything high, I turned my back to my favourite stilettos and settled for loafers. Slipping my left leg in the moss green shoe, I felt a barrier between my toes, so I tapped the shoe on the floor and out came a piece of paper. Because I wasn’t in the habit of leaving things in my shoes, I became interested in seeing the contents of the paper. What I read sent me reeling back onto the bed and without realising it, all the junks I had managed to hold down the past two days came spewing out of my mouth, my head became light and my chest tightened. In oblivion, my hand found my cellphone and the rest, I can’t remember. When I came to, I found myself in a hospital bed, I had just survived a heart attack, I should be grateful and happy perhaps, but happiness will forever elude me. Everything and everywhere hurt but I couldn’t say what hurt most. Is it that the girl I dated for 13 months was married to someone old enough to be her father and I had not the slightest clue, or that she had colon cancer and hid it from me, or that she didn’t think she had much time to live, yet never mentioned it or that she is finally dead.. She didn’t have to tell a piece of paper that she married an old man who was based in the US as a second wife just to save her family from financial crisis or that she met me just after she found out she was sick, she certainly didn’t have to tell a paper that her life suddenly felt normal again because she met me hence, afraid to talk about her impending death for fear that she might scare me away, NO, she should have told me not a paper hidden in my shoe.. Like I said, I don’t know what hurt most, but I do know that life would never be the same because I boke a heart and now I’m broken.