Better Safe Than Sorry

Saturday, September 10, 2022.

Saturday morning, I woke up still feeling sick. I spent most part of my day in bed for the same reason. Over breakfast, Alvin made a comment that made me realize that he had been through my phone. I felt wounded that he had actually lied about it.

“Do you have strength so that we wash?” asked Alvin gleefully, as he was sorting his dirty clothes after breakfast. What? Unbelievable! Which part of “I am sick,” did he not understand? Besides, I have never had the strength to stoop that low. Washing a man’s clothes is not on my “To-do-list”.

Later during the day, Alvin asked several times if he should order for me takeaway. My issue was with him asking in the first place. I did not know his financial stand. How was I to know whether ordering me food would be an inconvenience to his wallet? A better question would have been, ‘I am going to order takeaway; is that okay with you?’.
Nonetheless, I said to him, “If you don’t want to cook, then you can order; but I am not going to cook”.

He cooked. As he did, I played music. Alvin seemed fascinated by my playlist. Because my taste sense was affected by the sickness, I told him to prepare me nothing but boiled rice. After cooking in the evening, he left.
“I am going home. I will be back tomorrow after the service,” he informed me. With those words, he departed. I knew to expect him by 2:00pm the following day.

That night, in the name of doing my due diligence, I went to my friendly neighbor and asked if there’s something she could tell me about Alvin that I did not know.
“There’s nothing really. We don’t speak much,” she said evasively.
How odd; because Alvin had told me that sometimes he goes to her for food when he has not cooked.
By the time someone comes to you for food occasionally, there is definitely a relationship established, and conversations at that.

I showered cold water that night; something I would not have dared the day before. That was at least a start; one step closer to recovery. Before bed that day, I called my friend Annie and we spoke for some time. Tinka also called and confirmed that I should go to their home at 6:00pm on Monday after work for my birthday dinner. At least I had something to look forward to. I now just hoped that by Monday I would have recovered so that I enjoy my birthday.

🌻🌻🌻

Sunday, September 11, 2022.

I was still alone. Alvin had left the day before and I was expecting him back today.
Men have often said that they don’t know what women want. Granted, some of us don’t.
When Alvin left yesterday, I was happy to be left alone. However, here I was the following day, feeling abandoned. “What kind of man is he? To leave me all alone when I’m sick? How heartless!” I pondered.

By 4:00pm, Alvin was still nowhere to be seen. Which church service was that?!
I take time commitments and people’s word seriously. Maybe if he had not said when he would return, I would not have worried so much. Since I had not yet eaten, I decided to cook. I was famished.

The pressure grew as the time went from 5:00pm to 6:00pm.
By 7:00pm, I was tempted to text him, ‘Where are you?’ -but changed my mind because it was still early. Why did it feel like 11:00pm?! I was about to get a panic attack from continually looking at the time on my phone.

I tried to be busy; watched a movie, returned my neighbors’ pegs….and then it was 8:00pm. If this is pressure in marriage, I was better off remaining single, -cause what was this???!!!
I was busy getting heart attacks when I had no reason to; now I can only imagine the pain married women go through when their husbands return at 3:00am. There I was, already sweating blood and plasma at 7:00pm. I checked my WhatsApp and found his text, sent at 7:43pm. ‘I’m on my way,’ it read. “He better show up with takeaway and a birthday present,” I said to myself. That would have been a good reason for him to show up late. “…. either that, or he’s a dead man!” I concluded.

Alvin got back around 9:00pm. At that point I was almost dropping dead from the suspense and waiting. No, dude never showed up with takeaway. Neither did he get me a birthday present. And no, I never murdered him.
At least he had come back with my favorite fruit juice. I took some.

That night, Alvin tried to make a move on me but I gave him a firm no. Reluctantly, he bowed out.

🌻🌻🌻

Monday, September 12, 2022.

My alarm woke me up at 4:00am. I wanted to sleep some more but could not because of the journey I had to take to Kampala. Since I had luggage, best time to travel was before 6:00am. First, there is no traffic jam at that hour. Secondly, it’s easier to get a comfortable seat in a taxi. Plus there is often space in the boot if you are lucky.

Hesitantly, I dragged myself out of bed. I boiled and showered hot water. I brushed my teeth, got dressed and packed up all my belongings.

When I was ready to go, Alvin woke up.
“Happy Birthday,” he said. I smiled, quite pleased that he had actually remembered.
“You remembered, most men have amnesia,” I teased. My ex’s birthday was a day after mine, but he would still forget it.

Alvin gave me a push to the main road where I took a motorcycle to the taxi stage. I thanked him so much for hosting me for the past five days. He thanked me for being a good steward. Just like that, we parted ways and have never met again physically to this day.

As soon as I got my money the following month in October, I called Alvin and made a refund of all the money he had given me. He also found it in his heart to finally confess that he had actually gone through my phone. Alvin called and texted me a bit after that, just to check up on me, but that was all. There was also an offer for me to visit him again before I got a place to stay, but I politely declined.

As a young unmarried christian lady, I would not advise anyone else to try what I did. You have no business staying alone with a man or woman that you are not married to. I understand those who have no choice, but if you have alternatives, please explore them first. They might not be easy, comfortable or fun, but you’re better off safe than sorry.

The End.

Disclaimer: The names that feature in this story are fictitious. They were made up to protect the identity and privacy of those involved.

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