SHORT STORY: Paid in full

By Chinwe J. Obinwanne

Sandra sighed as she took one last look at him. He looked peaceful, almost perfect.

She got up from the bed dragging the bed-sheet to cover her nakedness, and leaving Kazeem to the harsh cold air emanating from the Air conditioner. He wouldn’t mind that anyway, she thought as she headed for the bathroom.

As the water poured over her full breasts, sliding down to her wash-board flat belly and then moving on down to her womanness and then to her legs, she wondered silently where her life was headed. Her wonderings were interrupted by yet another thought. Kazeem. How innocent he looked in sleep. How crazy and wild he was in bed the previous night. How sore and spent he made her.

Thoughts that slowly faded away as she contemplated her next move. As she turned off the shower, she toweled her soft body dry and then moved to the wardrobe to get her clothes. She pulled on a jeans and tee shirt. She ought to be in a hurry but instead she took her time. She moved about lazily and then settled on a chair just opposite Kazeem’s face to apply her makeup. She chose red for her lips. Yes. That colour was perfect for her mood.

As the stick of lipstick found every corner of her lips filling them with its red hotness, the events of the precious day came to Sandra’s mind as if on replay. Events that sent a shudder down her spine - but in a fulfilling way.

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Her meeting with Kazeem was fated, or so she thought. He was her contact person for a project with WhiteWaters Engineering. At their first meeting, she had stumbled in late after battling the annoying Lagos traffic. Driving in to Adeola Odeku, she wished they wouldn’t take her so unserious that they would cancel on her. She would cancel on herself, after all she was a good two hours late.

When she came in, looking all apologetic, she expected to be speaking to a room full of people. That is what she was told. But when she looked up, the room was empty. Her heart skipped. She had pissed these fellas off and they had gone back to their offices. She quickly thought of the millions of naira Edges communications, her company of three years stood to lose if the meeting and eventual deal was marred. Her job as Business Manager was on the line. She needed to fix this and fast.

With that thought dominating her being, she made for the door. She was going to have to beg the receptionist to get one of the principal officers and then she would grovel if that was what it took. This was the big break she needed not just for her position at Edges, but for her resume in case her target company perused her LinkedIn profile. One foot was already out the door when she heard someone clear his throat.

She paused and then continued her movement thinking the sound was a figment of her imagination. But the sound came again. This time clearer. This time nearer. She turned and there he stood.

He was tall. He was built just like an athlete, a darker and more mysterious version of soccer legend Cristiano Ronaldo. His eyes held a certain glint. His brows were raised in question. She drank in his magnificient look in a suit and smiled inwardly at the class his shoes exuded. She loved guys who knew how to pick their shoes. Her eyes moved upwards and landed on his face. He looked angry. He looked frustrated. In that moment her thoughts did a rewind and she remembered why he would be angry.

Her appreciative looks turned instantly apologetic. She began speaking as if on fast forward, explaining the reason for her lateness and begging for a chance to make things right.

He cut her rambling short with a simple “take a seat please”.

“You are late Ms. Mbuk and I have waited for a long time. Now that you are here, my name is Kazeem Omoyele and I’ll be your contact person for this project; that is if we come to an agreement” He continued.

His voice was deep and mellow in a sexy sort of way. His voice did nothing to betray the anger he bottled within. For that she was grateful. The meeting went surprisingly well and she smiled back to her office armed with a signed and sealed business agreement and Kazeem’s  complimentary card. She had done it. She had clinched the deal. A still small voice told her that the deal wasn’t all she had clinched. That voice leeringly whispered to her that she would meet Kazeem again. And soon.

Surely they did meet again. Soon the meetings turned unofficial and quickly it progressed to a full blown relationship. She was over the moon. He was all she had dreamed of in a man. His physical looks as well as his intellect were above par. He was her soul mate.

Kazeem hadn’t thought he would ever have anything to do with Sarah. He was a stickler for time and his first meeting with Sarah proved she paid no heed to time. He didn’t have patience for such. Also, he didn’t see Sarah as his spec. 

While he loved his women dark, slim, tall and with above average bosoms; Sandra came different. She was barely over 5ft. Had curves that looked like an artist wickedly drew them on. She was light-skinned and a tad hairy. What she didn’t make up for in bust size, she more than made up for in hips and backside. She had a face so gentle and innocent, one would be scared shitless to have her cry. She looked vulnerable and Kazeem hated himself for what he was doing to her.

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Their relationship was a good three years and counting and Sandra was getting impatient. She was 33 years old and wasn’t getting any younger, yet Kazeem was dragging his feet to propose. The pressure was mounting from family, friends and even those who used to seek her hand in marriage. Those ones had turned to her calendar. Taunting her as they counted the days for her. She couldn’t take it anymore.

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Kazeem knew what Sandra wanted. But it was something he couldn’t give her. He knows it is unfair to treat her this way but frankly, he hadn’t planned it to be so. He had thought it to be different, just a past time but now fate had played a dangerous game with him. A game that he didn’t know how to move the next bar. A game that he knew Sandra would hate. It had happened quick for him. He felt powerless to stop it and knew the hell Sandra would rain on him for that. His predicament was inevitable.

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Valentine’s day was just the right time to confront this head-on. So, Sandra prepared her plan. She would go wild on him tonight and make him call her name countless times and then afterwards, she would propose to him. Yes, she thought. If Mohammed wouldn’t go to the mountain, then the mountain would go to Mohammed.

The wild session had ended with both spent and breathless, and even before Sandra could utter a word of her plan, Kazeem was snoring softly. She heaved in resignation and was just about to sleep when she noticed his phone buzzing.

A close look at it and she knew the caller was Biodun, Kazeem’s childhood friend. When the call wasn’t taken, he sent a BBM message. Out of curiosity and wondering why he was calling and pinging by 12.30am, she opened the message.

It read “ Guy you don tell her?”.

What could he be talking about? She was going to find out, so she replied.

“Not yet o!”

“ Why na? You no say Kendra dey come back in 2 days time. Abeg do am fast o, no time.”

The alarm went off in her head. Who the hell was Kendra. And what was Kazeem supposed to tell her?

Before she could finish her contemplation, another ping came in. This was a longer message. This was the ping that broke the camel’s back. This was the ping that brought out the Jezebel in her.

It simply read “ Anyway, I just say make I tell you o. Mumsy called me yesterday to know how the wedding plans are going. She dey even para for me sef dey ask me why you wan use Kenso daughter for little bride when your daughter na around the same age. Lol. Funny woman. Sha hurry up with breaking the news to Sandra o. Time no dey again.”

Sandra was in a rage. She began to play detective immediately. Ransacking every corner of Kazeem’s phone, she unearthed the un-earthable. She had been played for a fool all these years. Kazeem, his friends and family had taken her on a joy ride. Kazeem had a three year old daughter with the said Kendra who resided in the UK. And she was returning in two days for her wedding with Kazeem the following Saturday. 

A wedding that Kazeem and his cohorts had been planning under her very nose.

She had been used and about to be dumped in the most demeaning way possible. She wasn’t going to take it.

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She took one last look at Kazeem on the bed, smiled blankly and stood up. The succinylcholine had done all it promised. It had, in a matter of seconds paralyzed all the muscles in his body. It had stopped his breathing and all these with his eyes wide open. She needed him to have an agonizing death, and he did. When she had jabbed the syringe into his tout buttocks, the sharp pain woke him, and she sat there drinking in his agony as life slipped away from him.

It looked like fate anticipated this day would come and presented a day that would give her access to the killer drug. It came in handy having a plastic surgeon for a mother. All it took was a quick drive to her mom’s in the dead of the night and with the road being very free, she got there in a few minutes, made some excuses to her parents, went in and retrieved the drug from the box she kept locked in her kiddie wardrobe.

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Sandra packed her bags, took with her the expensive wristwatch and ring she had bought him for the Valentine’s day, looked ruefully at Kazeem one more time and walked away from his house leaving him to sleep the sleep of death.

There was no need of wiping his house down, in Nigeria it was not necessary. After all, no one was going to bother with forensic examination of the crime scene and body and even if they tried, this particular drug will only leave behind metabolites that are normal to the body. It will leave no questions asked.

She shut the door, leaving the dead betrayer behind and felt absolutely no remorse for it.