Denise:Jealous

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There is no greater glory than love,
Nor any greater punishment than jealousy.
                             Lope de Vega.

 

The next week, they had to audition the models they were using for one of the adverts and he had playfully insisted on her presence.
He had noticed that she was back to being all formal with him and was trying to change that.

The models- all five of them; were all tall and beautiful. She noticed something about them—it was like they were only out to impress Nicholas as if he was the only person auditioning them- – he was the full recipient of their sultry charm. The whole drama had left her irritated and she had gently excused herself.

Later, he came over to ask her what had happened and she lied about a headache. He had been sympathetic and asked if she had taken any drug and she said yes.

After work, she headed over to Ororo restaurant at GRA with a co-worker- Muna for an early dinner where they ran into her Uncle. He asked them to join his table and they gladly accepted.

Uncle Douglas was an elderly statesman who believed firmly in conversing with the family in Ibo. He thought it terrible that so many Igbo youths couldn’t speak their language and mostly, he blamed their parents for that.
He had made it a point of duty to speak in Ibo when conversing with an Igbo person whether or not you could speak or understand.

Woe to you if you are one of those that are Igbo but can’t speak the language, by the time he was through with lecturing you, you’d rush and get yourself a tutor.

They discussed the traffic problems in Port-Harcourt whilst waiting to be served; Denise was still carrying on the headache charade so Muna was doing most of the talking- she was speaking a phony ‘toushed up’ Anambra accent that was grating to the ears.

The girl was from Imo-she had been born and bred in Imo!

She attended the University of Port-Harcourt so how the hell did she pick that phony way of speaking?

As they ate, they carried on with the conversation and she found herself drifting away in thought- she couldn’t get him off her mind.

It was crazy the way girls threw themselves at him- those models they had auditioned had been utterly brazen in their approach; they didn’t even mind the presence of other people in the room. She was certain that even if he had been dirt poor it would have still been the case. The dude was Handsome and exuded sex from every pore.

She felt so jealous- the jealousy was eating her up that she could barely keep track of the conversation. She was so glad when dinner ended. Finally she could go back to her apartment and fully explore the extents of her jealousy.

If she felt this jealous and possessive, how then would his girl friend- the ‘hey baby’ feel?

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