We were chilling in my house one Saturday afternoon when my boyfriend Fred happened to get a call. It was Lisa his ex, she sounded pretty distressed, and no, she wasn’t causing any drama, she needed help.Apparently her mum was sick and she needed someone to help take her to hospital. Fred wasn’t for the idea, he even mentioned that he didn’t have his car and the conversation came to an end. I felt sorry for her, I imagined that for her to have the guts to call her ex to ask for help, she must have really been in a tight spot and I convinced Fred to help. It was one of those moments you put your humanity before petty jealousy.
Fred didn’t like the idea but he called back and said he will be on his way once he gets his car in a few. I looked at him with awe because I trusted him. Nothing could go wrong, he didn’t want to help, I am the one who urged him to help her.
He left at around 4pm. I felt pretty good about myself, going beyond yourself to help your boyfriend’s ex is pretty much what you call trusting your child to play with fire and not get burned. This actually felt hilariously weird but I trusted Fred will be a good sport.
I left the house as well to catch up with my girlfriends, as Fred played superman to the ex hoping he would be done soon, so that we would continue spending time together. At around 7pm, I checked my phone and I didn’t get any missed call or texts from Fred. It was weird but I didn’t think much of it then. I went about my business with the girls until we decided to move location from a coffee shop to a club to have a few drinks before we dispersed. After sometime, I started getting worried, Fred hadn’t once communicated since he left the house and now its getting to 9pm. I quickly excused myself from the table at the club and went outside to try calling him instead. I tried three times but nothing. I got frustrated and decided to go back to the club and try not to get carried away with emotions and all manner of thoughts by sipping some whisky and having a good night out with the girls.
We left the club at around 2am,not exactly what I had anticipated but I needed company because if I was home alone I would have gone insane. I got home and tried calling Fred again but no answer. This wasn’t anything I had imagined especially after persuading him to go help the ex, I expected he would be out of her hands (not literally) as soon as he landed at the hospital and head back to me. I tried catching a wink or two but it was quite a task since all my thoughts were channeled towards my mysteriously gone quiet boyfriend.
At 9am I got up took a shower and started prepping to go to church. Did I mention that I had tried calling my boyfriend almost 10 times between waking and going to the shower and still no answer. I was now getting paranoid maybe something happened, He got into an accident, or his phone was stolen(but why is it ringing) I decided to head to church then check his place right after.
tried calling my boyfriend almost 10 times between waking up and going to the shower and still no answer.
I can promise I didn’t hear a word the preacher said all that came to mind was all sorts of things that may have happened to my dear Fred. Immediately after the service, I rushed out, took a matatu straight to his place. My heart was palpitating wildly, as if I was about to get the final results of whether I have had a chance of pooping normally again ( I don’t know why this came to mind but its like a matter of life and death)
As soon as I got there, I met up with the housemate at the door, he was going out.
Me:”Have you seen Fred? Is he in the house?”
Housemate: “I haven’t seen Fred since you guys last left yesterday, I thought he was with you!”
Me: “No! He left to help Lisa take her mom to hospital!”
Housemate: “Lisa!? Which Lisa? His Ex Lisa?”
Me: “Yes that Lisa!”
Housemate: “But I thought her mum died four years ago! We all went for the funeral!”
And that my friend was the beginning of my paranoia ,all sorts of confusion and murderous thoughts…
My world of drama continues shortly…