STAGED AFFECTION
(Episode 5)
In the evening, Nichelle came to the room and told me it was time to eat. I was still lying on the floor, trying to rest. I didn’t say a word to her, hoping she would just leave me alone.
But she didn’t. She looked at me for a moment, then asked if I hadn’t heard her. I told her I had heard her, but I didn’t feel like getting up just yet. “You can go ahead, I’ll join you soon,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
But Nichelle didn’t take it well. “You know what?” she said, her voice rising. “you can actually decide not to come, don’t even bother okay.”
She turned to walk out, but I stopped her. “Why are you so rude?” I asked, trying to understand why she was being so harsh. “Must you be rude to me?”
But Nichelle wasn’t having it. She turned back to me, her eyes flashing with anger. “Excuse me?” she said, her voice cold.
I tried to explain myself, but she cut me off. “Never say that to me again,” she said, her voice firm. “I don’t know what kind of nerve you have, but it’s none of your business how I decide to live my life.”
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving me feeling speechless. I couldn’t believe how she was treating me. I was only trying to do my part in this contract, but she seemed determined to make it difficult.
But I knew I had to keep enduring her. After all, it was just a contract, and it would soon come to an end. I just had to keep my cool and remember why I was doing this in the first place.
I took a deep breath and got up from the floor, trying to shake off the tension. I would join them for dinner, but I wouldn’t let Nichelle’s rudeness get to me.
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As I went downstairs, Nichelle’s mother said, “Oh, maybe your appetite is back. Nichelle told me you won’t be joining us because you don’t have an appetite.”
I was shocked and looked at Nichelle, knowing I hadn’t said that to her. But I had to keep my cool. “Oh yes, ma,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I don’t have much of an appetite, but since it’s my favorite dish, I had to try and eat.”
Her mother nodded, seemingly accepting my explanation. “That’s good,” she said.
Nichelle was just looking at me with less concern, but whenever her mother turned to her, she would force a smile onto her face, pretending to be looking at me with affection.
I ate the food, trying to make small talk with Nichelle’s mother. When I finished, I told her, “I must say, you’re a good cook.”
She thanked me and said, “Actually, I and your girlfriend made this.”
I smiled and said, “Like mother, like daughter,” trying to sound charming. Nichelle’s mother and I laughed, but Nichelle was just forcing her laugh, trying to fit in.
After we finished eating, I thanked Nichelle’s mother and told her, “I would go and bathe and then go to bed. I have a very important work to do tomorrow.”
She nodded and said, “Good night to you,” as I left the dining room.
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as I walked away from the table. I had survived another awkward meal with Nichelle and her mother. But I knew I had to keep up the act for the next two weeks. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too much to handle.
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That night, as I lay down on the floor, I was using a pillow to support my head. Minutes later, Nichelle walked in, and her face changed immediately. She rushed over to me and dragged the pillow away, her expression angry.
“What’s this?” she said, her voice low but firm. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep to the deal?”
I looked at her, asking her what was wrong. “Why are you sleeping with my pillow?” she demanded.
I got angry, but tried to keep my voice down because of her mother. “Oh, so what do you want me to rest my head with in the first place?” I asked, trying to reason with her.
She said I should rest it on the floor. I was taken aback. “Why the floor when there are so many pillows here?” I asked, trying to understand her logic.
But she cut me off. “My pillows, they’re mine and not yours,” she said, her voice firm.
I looked at her for a moment, trying to process her behavior. Then I smiled, trying to appease her. “It’s fine,” I said, as I lay down on the floor without a pillow.
Nichelle looked at me for a moment, then turned and left the room. I was left lying on the floor, feeling frustrated and confused. Why was she being so difficult? I just had to keep reminding myself that it was just a contract, and it would soon be over.
To be continued…
