Love and Betrayal.

Chapter two

Story title: Love and Betrayal.

Chevelle's Pov

"stretch your hands forward and widen your legs" he commanded mildly.

I was already getting exhausted by this strenuous training exercise.

Gosh I can't believe this is what it takes to burn down excess calories and be slim.

I have to leave this gym now or y'all get ready for my burial.

I tiptoed to the speaker blaring out American Hip Hop.

I love the song, but I have to turn it off to enable Mr. McDonald Dukes listen to me.

Lord help me, I murmured before pressing the red button. My training mates were startled at the sudden stop.

Everyone gazed at my direction and I bit my lower lips.

"What is it Miss Chevelle? " Mr. Dukes asked impatiently.

"Sir, I have a runny stomach. I beg to leave" I humbly explained.

"You don't need to alert the whole neighbourhood of your exit and stop advertising your imperfections. Lazy woman" he shunned me outrightly.

I felt embarrassed. I blamed myself for alerting Mr. Dukes before taking my leave. I took my bag and made it to the door.

I was about to turn the handle and his voice stopped me again " you paid for this class, I didn't cajole you to do so. Be responsible"

I wished the ground would just open and swallow me. My feet refused to step an inch.

As if Duke's statement was not enough stab in my heart

Andria, the clown added " get rid of some fats, girl, menopause will soon hit you. Men are scarce"

The whole class started laughing including our coach. I stared at Andria in shock, embarrassed and humiliated. I stormed out of the training arena.

"I will surely deal with that brat" I murmured stepping out of the closing the door.

Right from the first day I started training at Macnew Gym I hated that jack.

He is rudely nice and always tries to get on my nerves. I am dumbfounded how people laugh at his nasty jokes and castigations to others.

He seem to be the centre of attraction for the ladies, that makes me want to spill on his brown face and pluck his big eyes.

Thank goodness, the taxi I texted had been there waiting for me, I jumped inside and he zoomed off.

Still on the ride, Duke's words rang in my mind and it made me uncomfortable and uneasy.

I kept pondering on his words over and over again.

His image appeared in my mind. He was average in height and of firm build. His oval face was smooth like an egg.Even Though, his lean yet have a muscular body.

I unconsciously picked up my small brown mirror from my bag and glanced at myself to make sure I was not really old, fat and ugly.

I was still as beautiful as a newborn baby except for my fat cheeks that made me look like a pregnant woman.

I was not that tall but I am neither a dwarf. My chubby is what I dislike. If wishes were horses I would have wished to have the physique of my dear friend - Ashley and model Geneva, the new pageantry winner of the south times.

My mind flashed back to my childhood experience and all the good and bad scenariois .

I could remember when I was little I was taller than my twin sisters: Vera and Isla.

I felt on top of the world, because as I read in the magazine, there are criteria one has to meet before climbing the ladder of being a model. The criteria were simple : tall and slim build.

To measure out my growth and observe my progress, I'd wake them up and we stood in front of the mirror and measured our height.

I always took the lead. I was so happy for myself and proud of the rapid growth.

When I was fifteen, I concluded that I would be a model for a fashion firm.

I watched pageantry shows on televisions and was fascinated by their activities:the angelic movements and catwalk , the way they speak, stare, their dress sense and height made me wish I ought to fastrack my growth and age in order to them.

A year later, I noticed I added weight and more as the days unfold. I felt really unhappy and disturbed.

Unfortunately, Isla and Vera got taller and slimmer while I grew fatter and fatter daily .

I had tried not to consume heavy carbohydrates and eat more vegetables, proteins and vitamins but all proved abortive.

Initially my two sisters mocked me, but later became comforting and kind .

We exercised together: jogged, ran, danced and played together all in the bid to burn fats but all to no avail.

I felt light inside but externally I was still the same.

"Chev we are here" the driver said calmly, breaking my train of thoughts. He stared at me through the rearview mirror. He was nicely dressed, a blend of blue print T-shirt and black ironed trouser. His dark long beards danced around when he spoke.

He seem not to smile often as his face was crumpled despite he was handsome.

Maybe he was bothered or something.

You know what they say right?Everyone has their own f*****g problem!

I alighted from the car and paid him off.

I walked in and headed to my room! I want to be alone for a while.

I walked into our living room, by the door stood our Chef servant, Ivan.

She was setting the table and my stomach grumbled.

"Welcome ma" she greeted humbly.

I ignored her and headed upstairs, now, in my room. I locked myself up and found comfort in my soft bed .

Different thoughts rummaged my mind in smooth progressions from my childhood scenario, to my desire of being a model , my unbecoming laziness to Duke's sarcastic advice and Andria's piercing and hurtful statement.

A tear dripped down my eyes, my hate for Andria deepened like one who stepped his foot on a mud.

He's a fool and lunatic I thought and gritted my teeth.

My eyes randomly gazed at my late grandpa's portrait hanging on my wall close to my bed.

He was full of smiles as he always smiled when he was alive.

I gazed at the portrait pellucidly.

And his principles rang in my ears like he was there reminding me again of the do's and don'ts of life. The policies and principles he bathed me with.

His principle was simple: "Let people's criticism spur you into positive actions"

Grandpa was a man of wisdom and uprightness. In his early forties he was a military man, and worked there for a decade before he founded and funded his wine Industry known as Owen's wine Industry.

When he became a septuagenarian, we insisted he stay with us, which he agreed to after much persuasion and pleadings. Of course he had no option, his wife was late and my father was his only child

Grandpa's name was Lucas Owens De great and his name filled up each of my dairy. I could still feel his around watching me

Grandpa was a man of valor and sweetness. He had a favorite habit that united our family together after he came to stay with us.

Early in the morning, grandpa would sit on the long couch and read his newspapers, check his sales record sent by his personal assistant - Robert Chapman.

After he was done, he would ring the family bell and we all assembled downstairs in a few minutes. We never disrespected grandpa nor wanted to make him mad. We obey his rules and struggle to uphold his policies in our daily lives.

We would say our prayers together with our hands bound together and eyes closed and knees on the floor.

Grandpa would ask the Almighty for a long life, good health, peace and love to lead our lives.

After the morning ritual, we would sit and listen to grandpa's questions.

He would always ask how our night went; if we had bad dreams or not

And most times, would jokingly ask father and mother if they were able to make more babies.

We would laugh it off,but I would stylishly stare at my mother's tummy to make sure there are no changes in her small tummy.

We already knew the next thing after the pleasantries which was merriment.

Grandpa would signal to Jasper the servant in charge of drinks to serve us wines and pie and chips.

It became a habit for us, three out of seven we wine and dine with Grandpa.

Grandpa Lucas was committed to his business and had many patronages from different personalities and firms all over the world.

I could remember vividly. On that particular morning, Jasper had wanted the usuals but Granny objected and gave a bottle of his personal wine to Jasper.

We were already used to enjoying our fresh wine in our favorite glass cups .

Lo and behold, the wine was sweeter and nothing compared to what we had been gulping down since.

"This is really old and great," Father acknowledged, nodding his head happily.

Grandpa surveyed our faces and nodded affirmatively like he got answers to his silent questions.

He cleared his voice and simultaneously dropped his glass cup on the saucer beside him which Jasper took away immediately.

He removed his silk hat and placed it on my hands. I was grandpa's favorite, I always sat beside him.

"Do you all like wine?" he asked with a plastered smile on his wrinkled face.

"Yes" we replied in unison like we practised it.

"This is not like what we gulp down every morning" mother said in an enthused manner.

"Why do old wines taste better?" He asked, peering into our faces: me, Isla,Vera and Scott- our elder brother.

Like a snap of fingers, the answer came vividly and clearly. I still remembered what Mr. Jonas taught us in biology and chemistry on reactions.

I cleared my voice and answered "old wines taste better due to complex reactions occurring in sugars and acids known as phenolic compounds. Certainly, in time this chemical reaction can affect wine in a way that gives it a pleasing favour"

"You've said well my dear baby Chev " he applauded me by patting my shoulder. I was seated next to him on the brown soft couch.He wore a happy smile that made his wrinkles vanish for a while.

I had smiled when he called me baby Chev like I was directly his last daughter. I have a special bond with him like the one the priest has for his flocks in the church.

He looked up and down like one searching for his treasure and cleared his voice " I can see the happy looks in your faces showing how sweet my morning surprise was" he stop and stared at father for a while and continued, " in the future, y'all should have it in mind that old memories should be treasured forever. Meet new people,but keep old friends and acquaintances closer than new ones. As you plunge into life you would understand more" he concluded with a slight smile creeping in his face.

Father spoke on behalf of us; he thanked him and promised that his words of advice and wisdom would be the fabric we wear. After the morning ritual, every person retired to their room including me. Other days, I would have stayed with grandpa and had beautiful conversations with him about life, events, shared jokes and laughter

I went back to my room and thought about grandpa's words and it didn't make sense to me at all. Maybe the old man seemed to have enough to drink and left his senses on his bed before coming into the living room today or perhaps senility had started worrying him gradually.

Perhaps, he was indirectly telling me to forgive Shelly and become friends with her again even after she tried to steal meat from our pot of stew last Christmas.

I nodded negatively as Shelly's image dripped into my mind. Her position and composure as she tried to dip her hand inside the pot that fateful Saturday night.

The way the tong fell out of her left hand as I inquired what she wanted to do.

Her hands trembled, her eyes rolled in fear and I could feel her pulse beating despite I was not close to her enough.

I hated her arrogance. She just kept the tong and left disappointed .We never talked about it nor did she apologize.

I loved Shelly. She was my college friend: funny but can be sassy. We have been friends for two years.

For a moment, I had thought grandpa was wrong and out of his senses.

Many of my college friends were wolves in sheep's clothing. I shall not keep them at all.

The knock from the day brought me back to reality.

"Who is there?" I asked, irritated.

"It's Ivan, food is ready madam" she said softly.

I rolled my eyes and said nothing.

I moved to the bathroom after a few minutes to freshen up . I was done and headed downstairs.

I loved shorts and shirts so much because my best friend, Ashely, wore it most times. I unconsciously learnt it . I wore an orange shirt and white shorts with a brown flip flop.

I was still angry and irritated as I walked down the stairs.

The humiliation I faced today stuck in my mind like a stagnant water

I sat close on my favorite sofa pressing my phone and waited for Ivan.

I sat comfortably in the dining room about to eat.

I checked the time it was noon already. Time flies indeed.

She walked in carrying a tray of food and I couldn't but salivate but I hid it.

She greeted again and I ignored her

I watched her dish out my food carefully and slowly.

It had been a year since she became our chef servant.

She was an orphan but a sweet soul. Blessed with a dazzling smile and diamond eyes. Mother had contacted her through Glitzy Girls Home Care, and she had accepted the job happily.

"Madam Chev am done" she spoke, interrupting my thoughts again. Why is trying to piss me off so much I thought dropping my phone on the table

I glared at her and replied, "don't stand like a tree ,get the juice and fill my glass " .

She nodded and poured a reasonable amount into my favorite glass.

She bowed and left as I sat up to devour my lunch.

Lunch was lasagna with bechamel sauce and strawberry. The aroma of the food made me jump into the food like a hungry lion. I scoped two spoons and spat them out immediately.

"Ivan" I barked.

"Yes ma" she answered, running to me in confusion and fear .

"Stupid thing, am I older than your mother in the village" I lashed out to her. "Why is this food salty?" I inquired impatiently.

She was startled as she opened her mouth and closed it back, no words came out. She moped like a child who was trying to recall her mother's name.

I landed her two slaps on her cheek that sent her staggering backwards

"I am sorry Chevelle," she pleaded in tears.

"You know you have the guts to call me by my very name right?" I asked bewildered.

"Sorry ma" she replied, still holding her red cheeks.

"Get this concoction out of her" I commanded and she speedily carried the food out weeping

She had barely left when the door opened and my mum - Katie Owens walked in with a strange man by her side. Their hands were intertwined as they walked through the door speaking in low tones and mother giggling .

Mother was clad in a white skin tight gown with a pink stiletto, her lips had an obvious glisten of red lip gloss. She looked like the marine Queen with her long black hair.

She was sweating profusely as traces of heat cascaded down her face.

"Hey daughter" she cried in joy as if it was the first time of seeing me in years. What a bad day already and now this. I muttered a greeting to them.

"I will just hang in with Mr. Rowland upstairs, we have some unfinished business to wrap up " she stared icily at me as her lips moved swiftly like one reading out a public speech.

I nodded like a distracted child wishing to burrow and avoid more life surprises . The so-called Mr. Rowland only smiled at me and licked his lips as mother headed to the fridge to get her favorite brandy.

I looked away immediately. For some seconds, I wondered why men are shameless and foolish. Maybe all are s*x monsters failing for anything that has a waist and mammaries.

Mr. Rowland wore a black oversized suit with spectacles. He held a black portfolio on his left hand and his black polished shoe shimmered.

Mother was done grabbing her brandy and headed upstairs with Mr. Rowland.

For a moment I thought about the unfinished business mother mentioned earlier on.

There was none as I racked my mind.

My late father Edward Owens left huge wealth we would not finish even in decades.

The thought of my late father penetrated my head. I really missed him so much. He was the best father and a darling husband to mom and his concubines. If wishes were horses I would have gone back and corrected his wrongs and saved his reputation. His deed before his unexpected transition changed our peace loving family into monsters stroking for destruction.

"Baby you're so sweet...c'mon go on...don't stop" mother's moan filled the whole room.

I wondered if they were doing the dirty deed in the corridor.

Mother kept shouting on top of her voice in pleasure and ecstasy.

I was not surprised nor ashamed of her shameless acts.

Since my father died she has become wild and weird.

What led to father's death traumatized her and left an indelible mark on us.

He had an affair with mother's distant friend. Her name was Beatrice. She was short and she always wore a black dressing like one mourning a relative. She always comes to our family house on Saturdays and eats only carrots and apples. She would not leave until father had returned from work and shared some pleasantries with him.

We all thought it was a smooth gesture devoid of impure desires and intentions, little did we know, that the bigger drama we are not aware of.

When mother learned about father's secret affair, she was devastated ,heart broken and hurt.

The day mother had planned to confront her friend of having an affair with her beloved husband. She went to her friend's house only to see father and her friend lying lifeless on the floor.

A short note laid beside Beatrice,and the note read: 'since I can't have him all to myself in real life, I will do so in death. I killed him and myself. We shall tangle in the underworld without any prying eyes'

Mother came back with father's lifeless body and the sad note that changed everything about my mother. I was the only one that read the note after which I tore it. My twin sisters were on vacation and Tom was not around either. He was in brooklyn; studying.

We buried our father with a few family, colleagues and friends after a few days of the sad incidents. Mother wept bitterly for weeks inside her closet.

Mother had sworn to avenge her husband's death by sleeping with married men and hurting their wives in return.

Initially, mother was a sweet and cheerful woman.She had a super charisma and good sense of humor . She is fair like a sea goddess and her forest eyes added to her beauty. She is tall and slightly chubby.

When father was alive, mother loved and worshipped him. Father was his best friend and companion. I could have sworn they never had a quarrel for one day. They were inseparable lovers.

Mother sat on the first pew in church on Sundays, sang loudly from the hymn books and danced freely and happily when going for an offering. When the priest organized a marriage seminar for couples, mother and father were the guest speakers.

When we were still one big happy family, on weekends, the whole family went for vacations in Paris.

When we had family time for jokes and plays, mother's voice was sonorous enough as dished out the various fun activities we would do like she was serving a meal.

Mother was my best friend. We conversed like sisters, shared secrets and played most times.

She had always come into my room every night to make sure I was covered properly, turned off the light and pecked my cheeks.

Since, Father left for the underworld, hurt her feelings and didn't even apologize to her nor explain his actions to her

Mother grew weird and unpredictable.

Most mornings, she held dad's portrait and cried her heart out. Bumping his portrait with questions as if Father was present there.

This continued for about five months and other times mother sat in her room swearing and raining curses on her late friend, Beatrice, for coming like a thief at night and stole her treasure and wrecked her peaceful home .

As mother continued in her agonizing state, she swore to destroy other women's families.

She grew pale and she waited for minutes before answering my greetings, I was really worried but they was nothing I could do. I resemble my father maybe she saw him in me

She neither went to work, went out nor came down for breakfast. She stayed in her room and never stepped out of it. Even though I tried to keep her company, she shunned me and told me to face my studies. We were like strangers in our own house. I cursed Beatrice for wrecking our family.

One fateful afternoon, I was in the living room licking chocolates, when mother came down all dressed up.

She was hot and sexy.

Who didn't know her would mistake her for an eighteenth year old girl.

She hugged and kissed my forehead.

"I am stepping out," she announced with an evil smile.

I was speechless with her dressing and hot make up but at the same time happy because she was going out for the first time in months.

I waved at her, still perplexed by her dress sense. I was speechless.

I had waited that day to inquire on her sudden change of mood and mind and her dress preferences.

That night, mother came back with a man, he looked married as his wedding ring said it all and he stayed till next morning.

The circle continued, everyday a new married man accompany mother home .

I had to endure mother's silly attitudes and actions without knowing her behaviour soaked me

I could remember the day I confronted my mother with her unbecoming attitude with married men.

I could remember her reply which went like this, " you need to be brutal in life. When people treat you bad them you can be a devil"

I was confused and startled as I gazed at my mother like I was daydreaming.

She patted me and said as I aged I would understand life and its bitter fates

A new message flashed on my screen and I clicked on it.

It was from Ashely. I read her message and stood up in shock and a slight smile .

Crept into my face

To be continued...

Hey dearest readers, can we really trust Chevelle ?

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