The Stir Beneath the Still III

“Dear Diary…”

Golda stared at the words in her journal. She had been at her desk at home for an hour, trying to put her thoughts into words, seeking clarity amid the chaos that had slowly become her life. She had always castigated people who had extramarital affairs; she believed that an unhappy spouse should consider divorce rather than stay in a marriage and disrespect their spouse. Now, she knew the situation was more complex than just leaving. And she was sorry for judging all those spouses harshly.

She lay her head against the back of the chair she was sitting in and sighed. Things had gone out of hand too quickly. She had made a vow five years ago, and she had meant to stick to it regardless of everything she had discovered in the marriage.

She didn’t want a divorce, nor did she want to break up Anan’s home. There were children to think of as well. But she desperately wanted to hold on to what she had with Anan. A sigh escaped. Anan understood her body and was willing to meet those needs. He didn’t require her to be upright and “in the spirit” all the time. They could exchange naughty chats, and he was willing to fulfil her sexual fantasies, regardless of how weird they sounded. Since they met at Safari Valley, their conversations had become more meaningful and deeper.

Why did society excuse men’s extramarital affairs and make it almost criminal for a woman to have her desires met where her husband fell short? Why couldn’t they have flexible marriage terms where the affair was allowed? Golda shook her head. She had never meant to start any extramarital affair! But now that it had begun, she didn’t know how to end it. She chuckled. She did know how to end it; she didn’t want it to end. Golda loved the thrill of meeting Anan in secret and making mad love to him. The only time she felt any guilt was when she had to hold her husband’s hand to pray in the evening.

Just then, her phone rang. Speaking of the devil…

“Hey…”

“Hey, empress.” Anan drawled. God.

Golda closed her eyes. He always had a different name for her, unlike her husband, who called her “Mrs.”

“What are you doing this weekend, my lady?”

“You got plans?” She asked, even though she knew already.

“You’re my plan, love. What’s up?”

“I’m taking the children to see my parents.” Then she added, “Alone.”

“I get you, baby girl. Send the location to me. I’ll figure out the rest.”

Golda smiled and ended the call. How easily she was plotting to cheat on her husband. She forwarded her parents’ GPS address to him after the call. Then she deleted the call record and the message.

Soon, Friday rolled by, and she deliberately packed slowly to hide her excitement. Elias, on the other hand, appeared nervous, and she asked him about it.

“Oh, you’re seeing things. You know I don’t like being away from you and my babies.”

“Ei, since when?” Golda inquired, eyebrows up. He had never been nervous because she wouldn’t be at home. And he was always grateful for the absence of the children so he could pray more.

Elias shrugged and left her. She heard him praying with the children in the hall, as was his habit. What was the benefit of cheating on such a prayerful man, she thought? And how come God hadn’t revealed her escapades to him in his place of prayer? Or wasn’t God interested in them? Or he didn’t pray about such things? Golda shook her head, zipped up the bag, and headed to her Rav4. Not long after, the children joined her. Elias prayed over them again, and they set off.

At her mother’s residence in Aburi, she engaged in their conversations respectfully. When Anan dropped his location for their rendezvous, she politely excused herself and sped off to meet him. After they had dinner, they spent the rest of the night tangled in each other, skin on skin, laughter turning into sighs.

“What if we get caught?” Golda asked Anan softly, after their last session.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. You know I’m ready to have you if you’ll have me.” Anan replied, kissing Golda’s forehead.

“It’s embarrassing. The whole world will know…”

“That we love each other, baby girl. Then we can be together forever. I’m actually looking forward to forever with you.” Another kiss on her forehead, nose, lips… then further… more sighs…

The next morning, Anan left first, then Golda an hour later. They had deleted any trace of communication before leaving the resort, but Anan had promised to call as soon as he got to his gate. However, when he hadn’t called after two hours, Golda became worried. In their affair, they had agreed that Anan would initiate all the calls, and she would respond if it was safe to do so. She didn’t want to call when he was with his wife, so she gave herself another hour, after which she would call him – consequences be damned.

She was scrolling through Instagram when she saw the news. At first, she scrolled past because, in her opinion, social media had become a toxic hub for bad news. But something about the vehicle in the Instagram post was familiar. She went back to the post and zoomed in, hoping she was mistaken.

Despite the mangled state of the vehicle, Golda made out the scratch she had accidentally made on the bumper of his Jeep about a month ago. Anan had refused to spray the scratch because he said it reminded him of her. Now, only the scratch was visible in the mangled wreck.

She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t cry. But her hands shook. She stood and paced, then went back to the post and checked the time. 30 minutes ago. It couldn’t be. Anan was so full of life, and he was a careful driver.

She grabbed her keys and drove toward the accident site, whispering like a prayer, “It can’t be true… it can’t be.” The words broke apart when the first tear slid down her cheek. Her hands trembled on the wheel until she couldn’t hold it steady anymore. She pulled over ten metres away from the site, where the Jeep had collided with a tree. Police had shown up already, and the ambulance was pulling away.

And then it came—raw, unstoppable. She collapsed against the steering wheel, her cries tearing through the quiet street. “Why?!” Her voice cracked, shattering in the air. “Why did you leave me?!”

After what felt like several hours of crying, Golda collected herself and turned the ignition, and drove, not towards the accident site, but straight home. The road felt longer than usual; every red light she stopped at brought his voice calling her “Empress” or “My lady” with that quirky smile. How would she survive this?

By the time she got home, her grief felt like a heavy mantle she couldn’t shake off. She knew Elias wasn’t expecting her yet, so she entered quietly. Elias was hunched on the sofa, his back to the door. Not wanting to interrupt his prayer time, she crept through the corridor to the nearest room. But what she heard was not prayer; they were words of assurance.

“I’m here for you, my love. We’ll get through this unfortunate incident together, as we’ve done everything else. Hush, don’t cry… Yes, I’ll come and see you. You can come over too; she’s away with the children for the weekend… I love you so much that it breaks my heart to see you sad.”

Golda stood rooted at the spot. What was she hearing?

“When did the accident happen?” Elias continued. “Today? Oh! Take heart. Anan was a good man, but not enough for you. I’m here for you.”

Golda couldn’t bear it anymore. She dashed into the room, numb. Armageddon had hit her without the proverbial trumpet sound.

The End.