NO LOVE IN LASGIDI

LEKKI BOY’S BETRAYAL

The Lagos sun is stinging my skin as I walk into a high-end lounge in Lekki Phase 1. I am wearing a dress that costs more than a small car, and my hair is swaying behind me like a dark silk curtain. I am not looking for love. I am looking for a distraction, a way to forget the hollow feeling Femi left in my chest. That is when I see Gozie. He is standing at the bar, surrounded by friends, laughing at a joke that clearly isn't that funny. He has this look, the quintessential Lekki Boy look. His wristwatch is oversized and gold, his shoes are velvet loafers with no socks, and his voice is loud enough to make sure everyone knows he is the one paying for the bottles on the table.

He spots me, and the laughter stops. He walks over with a swagger that says he owns the ground he is walking on.

"You are too beautiful to look this bored". He says, leaning in so I can smell his expensive cologne.

We start talking, and within an hour, he has me laughing. He is charming in a way that feels safe, a way that makes me think maybe, just maybe, I can try again.

Two months later, I am convinced Gozie is the balm for my wounds. He treats me like a fragile glass doll. He calls me "My Treasure". He sends lunch to my office in Ikoyi every day, always with a note that says he is counting the minutes until he sees me.

It is a Saturday afternoon, and I am at Gozie’s duplex in a gated estate in Lekki. The house is quiet, the AC is humming, and we are relaxing on his massive leather sofa. He tells me he needs to run out to the supermarket to get some wine and snacks for the movie we are about to watch. He kisses my forehead, grabs his keys, and disappears. I feel at peace. I walk around the house, looking at the art on the walls, feeling like I finally have a space where I belong. I even start thinking about where my clothes would go if I decided to move some things in.

Suddenly, the front door bursts open. It hasn't even been ten minutes. Gozie runs in, but he isn't carrying wine. His face is grey, his eyes are bulging, and he is sweating through his designer t-shirt. He looks like he has just seen a ghost. He doesn't even look at me, he starts grabbing my shoes from the floor and shoving them into my hands.

"Halima, get up! Get up right now!" He hisses, his voice cracking with a panic I have never heard before.

"Gozie, what is happening? Are you okay?" I say anxiously.

I stand up, my heart starting to race.

"My wife! She just called me from the car! She is coming from Muritala Muhammed Airport right now! Her flight from London landed early and the driver is already at the estate gate!" He says, still panicking

He is frantic now, throwing my handbag at me and pushing me toward the stairs to grab my overnight bag.

I freeze. The word "wife" hits me like a physical blow to the stomach.

"Wife? Gozie, what are you talking about? You said you were single. You said you were divorced years ago!" I say in confusion.

"I lied, Halima! Okay? I lied! Just move! She has the kids with her! If she finds you here, my life is over! Please, for the love of God, move!" He shouts angrily.

He is practically dragging me toward the back door, his hands shaking so hard he can barely hold onto my arm.

The shock is so deep it feels like ice water in my veins. I am standing there, clutching my bag, looking at this man I thought I knew. This man who called me his Treasure for two months. This man who has a whole other life, a whole other family, and a whole other world that he hid from me like a dirty secret. I feel sick. I feel stupid. I feel like the biggest fool in the whole of Lagos.

I don't say a word. I can't. I find my keys and I run out the back door to where my car is parked in the guest slot. I can hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway at the front, the sound of a family returning home. I can hear the high-pitched voices of children shouting "Daddy!" and the sound of a woman’s laughter. It is a beautiful sound, a sound of a home, and it is a sound that doesn't belong to me.

I scramble into my car and start the engine, my hands trembling so much I can barely grip the steering wheel.

I hit the main road and the tears start.

The weight of the betrayal is crushing. Femi took my money, but Gozie took my dignity. He turned me into a side chick without even giving me the choice. He used my loneliness to build a playground for himself while his real life was across the ocean. I feel used. I feel dirty. I feel like there is no corner of this city that isn't built on a lie.

I am crying so hard I have to pull over near the Ikoyi link bridge. I lean my head against the steering wheel and I just howl. The sound of my own voice is frightening. I think of my mother, sitting at home, probably picking out lace for a wedding with a man who is currently hugging his children and lying to his wife. I think of the shame if anyone finds out.

I look at my phone. There are no messages from Gozie. No apology. No explanation. He has probably already deleted my number. He has probably already wiped the scent of my perfume off his pillows.

What do these men want from me that I have not done? Gozie just betrayed me clean without an apology.