Donald hadn’t said anything about leaving America yet. He’d spent most of his days at his hotel, attending to foreign investors, and on free times, he drove to see Addie at the club bar. His kisses had been more urgent, his embrace more passionate, as if he wanted to imprint the feel of her, the taste of her, on his memory.
The night before he finally left to see his daughter at France, Addie knew he won’t be back to America soon. Anxious to get to him, she hurried herself out of the club bar, slipped behind the stage curtains. A door led directly outdoors and into the balcony that ringed the upper story ballroom. Waves slapped against her hairs.
He was waiting for her in his hotel room. She drove herself quietly to see him. When he saw her and noticed how anxious she was to make love to him for the last time, he held her hands.
“Muyiwa will send you money a day after tomorrow. She is on leave now; she will be resuming first thing on Monday. That’s a day after tomorrow.” He said calmly.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him.
“The money isn’t for the house.”
“Don’t give me that face. You said you wanted to do your masters in hotel management.”
“Muyiwa is sending $10,000. I am settling you with that.”
“Settling?” She asked, bewildered.
“Yes. Settlement. My daughter and I talked all through last night. My family is bothered about my having extra marital affairs…” He paused and lowered his head to the ground. “Whenever you need anything Addie, you let me know. I will do it for you, anything at all.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” She asked, her heart swelling
Yes.” He replied boldly and tried to hold her hand. She pushed him away and angrily walked out on him.
When she got into her car, she began to cry. The tears froze on her face. She became cold, so cold she cried the more.
She was good at sleeping with many men, but Donald was the only man she had been dating for four years. Two years in Nigeria. And two years in America without any other man interrupting.
She drove home that night crying softly. There were many reasons why she didn’t want to lose her man friend Donald. The sex. The money. The power. He gave her all that in hundred percent.
When she opened the door of her apartment, she could perceive fried tomato sauce from the kitchen.
“Addie, is that you?” Ida asked from the kitchen.
But Addie was quiet. She lowered herself on the couch and held her sweater close to herself.
“Addie?” Ida called again.
“Yes, it’s me.” She replied softly.
Ida rushed to the sitting room, she was a tall, fair skinned girl with long twisted braids called ‘Bob Marley’ in Nigeria.
She smelt of curry and Italian seasoning.
“Your man friend finally let you come home today?” Ida asked. But when she noticed the tears in Addie’s eyes, she became calm and walked gently towards her. “Addie, are you okay? What happened?”
Addie sighed, Wiping the tears in her eyes. “Donald and I broke up today.”
Ida sighed. “Is that why you’re crying?” She clapped her hands. “You’re crying for a married man like this? Is it because he gives you money? A man who has children of your age, he has a wife who almost killed you.”
“Stop it already!”
“It’s good this is over. Maybe it will give you back your sanity a bit.”
“He used to make sweet love to me, gives me money. He is the only man I have never cheated on before. He gave me everything!” She cried out.
“Listen Addie, I have lived here for close to six years. We have cute black American guys, even Yoruba men. I know you’re freaked about cute, rich guys. We have them here. You’re a beautiful girl. You work in a club where wealthy men come to spend good cash. Hook up with one of those guys and stop crying over a man who is old enough to be your father.” Ida said angrily and got up back to the kitchen.
That night, Addie couldn’t find sleep. She fondled her phone all through, reading news on Linda Ikeji’s blog and thinking of Donald’s words.