YOU STILL SMELL OF HIM
By Inioluwa Ige
"You still smell of him. Go wash again," Teefay, my best friend, said with her eyebrows scrunched in disgust.
"Are you jealous?" I muttered, moving toward the mirror to check myself.
"Are you--"
"What choice do I have? Tell me!" I snapped before she could finish.
Teefay stared at me, angry but I caught the pity in her eyes through the mirror's reflection.
In a softer tone, she said, “I mean, the fool cheated on you twice. Have you really forgotten the mess he turned you into just a month ago, Kiekie?”
“Are you really sure about not washing up again? You still reek of him. You should let him go, he's not worth it” she added.
I froze. Memories of his betrayal came flooding back like a cruel tide. My throat dried at the recollection, a wave of nausea curling in my stomach. Even as fear crept into the corners of my eyes, I readjusted the short wine-colored gown Lekan gave me on our 100th day together. The diamond necklace he gifted sat perfectly at the center of my clavicle.
I twirled a little, admiring myself in the mirror, then turned to Teefay.
"You see--" I paused and smiled faintly. “I really love Lekan. I can’t even breathe without him. He’s my first love, the first man I gave both my heart and body to.” I sighed, caught in a daydream. “Do you know how happy I was when he called and begged me to take him back? He regretted what he did. He promised and even swore it would never happen again. It’s only right for me to forgive him... I mean, why not?” My smile widened, desperate and fragile.
"Don’t come crying back to me later, Mrs. Lover Girl," Teefay mocked, flopping back on the bed.
"I won’t. Trust me!" I declared, raising my hands dramatically in the air and rushed out of our apartment.
***
A message lit up my phone screen:
*Baby, aren’t you taking too long? I miss you already. Come quick.
“Such a cutie,” I giggled, checking the time. It was 6:33pm.
“Here I am,” I whispered and stepped out of the cab.
***
I knocked twice before pushing open the door to Lekan’s apartment.
“Babyyy, I’m here--” I stopped mid-sentence, confused.
“Thank you for coming back into my life!” he exclaimed, popping a bottle of wine. The cork flew, and wine spilled out in an excited rush.
“Stop ittt!” I squealed with delight and threw my arms around him.
“I missed you,” we both muttered in unison.
***
I woke up tangled in the bedsheets. The room was silent, Lekan wasn't in bed with me but I heard faint whistling from the bathroom.
“Oh... he’s bathing.” I muttered.
Images from last night flashed through my mind like a movie reel. He was still as skilled as ever in bed, he knew every corner of me. I felt giddy. We were truly back together.
"Till death do us part", I mused.
Suddenly, the phone beside me lit up. I yawned, assuming it was mine.
“Teefay’s just messaging me now?” I mumbled, stretching my hands for it. But it wasn’t my phone.
It was Lekan’s. I was about to set it back when the messages on the screen caught my eye. Another one popped in.
Then another. I squinted.
“Oya oya, each of you must send 500k into my account now. I told you she would come, didn’t I? You get my account number, abi you no get? 00150--”.
I froze. It was Lekan’s message to the chat. To whom? For what reason?
Was this a bet? Does he even gamble? I prayed and pleaded in my head. It shouldn’t be what I was thinking. But more messages poured in.
“Kiekie really came? Omooo. Wasn’t she loved at home?”
“After all the shege you don show her.”
“You knack am? Lekan, you be the real OG.”
“She thought she had found love. Awwwn.”
“Hahaha, you be werey for that awwn wey you type.”
“Abeg, I wan join in the mula nau.”
My hands trembled. My legs buckled. I was fidgeting, losing control.
The bathroom door creaked. He was coming out.
My eyes darted to the tray beside the bed. A knife. The same one he used to peel oranges glinted under the dim light. My brain shut down. Emotion took full control.
Lekan walked out, water dripping from his face, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“I enjoyed the sex. It’s a pity this will be the last time I see your handsome face,” I whispered, voice shaking, eyes brimming with tears.
“Huh?” he asked, confused. That was his final word. I plunged the knife into his chest.
He staggered backward, clutching at the blade, horror etched into his face. I twisted it deeper into his heart and watched him crumble to the floor.
“How does it feel, yeah?” I asked through tears, waving the chat messages in his face.
His shock brought me something unfamiliar. It wasn't a relief. It wasn’t pride. It was...
Something close to joy. A grotesque joy.
“My only offence was loving you wholeheartedly. How dare you!” I screamed.
I yanked the knife out and stabbed him again. And again. I couldn’t stop.
Tears blurred my vision. I had no idea where I was stabbing anymore. But red painted the room, splashed across the bed, the floor, my skin.
I stood, legs weak, blood dripping down my arms. His blood. My blood. The clock reads 3:33AM. I smirked, dragging my feet toward the door.
I didn’t want to stay.
“I still smell like him,” I whispered. “I’ll go wash again.” I collapsed before taking a deep breath.
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