STAGED AFFECTION
(Episode 7)
When I got home to Nichelle’s house, her mother was in the living room with Nichelle, looking like the perfect family. As I walked in, I greeted her mother with a warm smile, trying to play along. She welcomed me with a warm smile, seemingly oblivious to the tension between Nichelle and me.
“You must be really busy at work today, coming back late,” she said, concern etched on her face.
I nodded, trying to sound convincing. “Absolutely, ma. It’s been a long day.”
Nichelle came over and hugged me, forcing a smile onto her face. “Welcome, baby,” she said, her voice dripping with insincerity.
I thanked her, trying to play along, and she took my bag upstairs as I followed her. Her mother looked on, smiling at us like we were the perfect couple. “This reminds me of my late husband,” she said wistfully.
We went upstairs, and as soon as we were inside, Nichelle’s face changed. She dropped the act, and her expression turned cold. “Why are you coming back by this time?” she demanded.
I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s when I feel like coming back. Please, I don’t have time for this right now.”
But Nichelle wasn’t having it. She dragged me back, her eyes flashing with anger. “Never walk out on me in your life again,” she hissed.
I was taken aback by her outburst. “Who are you to say that to me?” I asked, trying to stand up for myself.
But Nichelle was beyond reason. She raised her hand, poised to slap me, and paused, her eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t push me,” she warned.
I looked at her for a moment, shocked by her behavior. “I can’t wait for these two weeks to come to an end,” I said, turning to walk away.
But Nichelle’s parting shot stopped me in my tracks. “You’ll regret this,” she spat, her voice venomous.
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That night, when we were all eating, I was still seething with anger from our earlier encounter. I didn’t even bother looking at Nichelle’s face, trying to avoid any further confrontation. But then, her mother asked me a question that made me pause.
“Is everything okay between you and Nichelle?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But before I could say anything, Nichelle jumped in, a fake smile plastered on her face.
“Oh, everything is okay, Mom,” she said, holding my hand and looking at her mother with a reassuring gaze. “He just got a call from his client, and it wasn’t a good one. That’s why he’s a bit distracted.”
I had to play along, so I nodded in agreement. “That’s true,” I said, trying to sound convincing. “I just need to deal with this client issue, and I’ll be fine.”
Her mother nodded understandingly. “Oh, I see. Please take it easy, okay?” she said, her voice warm with concern.
I nodded again, feeling a pang of guilt for lying to her. But I knew I had to keep up the act, at least for now. So I continued eating, trying to avoid eye contact with Nichelle, who was still looking at me with a mixture of anger and frustration.
The rest of the meal was tense, with Nichelle and I barely speaking to each other. But her mother seemed oblivious to the tension, chatting happily about her day. I was relieved when the meal finally ended, and I could escape to the room, away from Nichelle’s toxic behavior.
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After the meal, I went straight to our room, trying to escape the tension between Nichelle and me. But a few minutes later, Nichelle came in, her anger palpable.
“And what was the meaning of that?” she demanded, her eyes blazing with fury as she looked at me.
I didn’t respond, choosing instead to remain silent as I lay on the floor. But Nichelle wouldn’t let it go.
“Is it not you I’m talking to?” she snapped, her voice rising.
I finally spoke up, my voice calm but firm. “I don’t have time for your arrogance now, Nichelle. How was I supposed to feel after what you said to me before dinner?”
Nichelle’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the anger simmering beneath the surface.
“Look, I’m warning you now to stay clear of me, or I will terminate this contract,” I warned her.
But Nichelle just laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. “You will do no such thing,” she sneered. “If you try it, you won’t get your money.”
I stood up, my eyes locked on hers. “What makes you so sure that this whole thing is all about money?” I asked, my voice rising.
“Do you think I don’t earn well with my coding work?” I demanded.
Nichelle’s expression twisted into a sneer. “You’re just a broke guy who needs money, and that’s why you’re doing this,” she spat.
I smiled, a cold, hard smile. “You don’t know anything about me, Nichelle,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain.
And with that, I lay back down on the floor, refusing to engage with her further. Nichelle stood there for a moment, her anger and frustration evident, before turning and leaving the room.
To be continued…