“Hey you incredible sex machine. What’s up? Still thinking about that blowout you gave me?”

“Hehehe, heyyy, sexy. Absolutely! Best blowout ever in the history of blowouts!”

“I swear to God, Daddy. I can still feel that phantom dick inside me right now.”

“Ooooh, I’ve left my imprints in you, eh?”

“Hahahahahahaha! Yes, you have!”

“Perfect! Means I really hit the spot. Anyways, I called coz I got some interesting news for ya.”

“Eish, it has to be interesting if you’re calling me at 12:30. What’s up?”

“I just kicked the idiot out of the house.”

“You’re lyinnnggggggg!”

“Nope. Na the reason for it, eh. Can you imagine? I got home, and as I was going to my room norr, the buffoon was coming to attack me. Can you imagine?”

“What? Seriously? Herh!”

“Hmmm, Ki. It’s crazy ooo. Absolutely crazy. She took a glass plaque and nearly hit me with it. Just one millisecond closer, and that thing would have smashed me in the face.”

“What!! Are you serious? Goddamn, the stupid bitch! Trying to hurt my man…”

***

Almost a month had passed since that eventful evening in the Danso household.

And a lot had changed. The most glaring change, obviously, was the absence of Mrs. Princess Danso.

And the presence of her replacement.

Miss Kirania.

Right after that call where Ferdinand told Kirania everything that had happened, he told her to get an Uber at the break of dawn and join him in the house.

That was it. From that day since, the lady of the house was Kirania. The first person Ferdinand saw in the morning when he woke up, and the last person he saw when he went to bed.

And was he pleased with this new development? Most definitely!

Having Kirania around was such a joy to his soul. Now he actually enjoyed going home after work. The neighbours who were used to hearing the sounds of his car engine were surprised to hear it as early as 5:30 pm. Now there was someone he actually wanted to come home to.

Not that piece of trash who deliberately slaughtered his unborn baby out of spite. 

The crazy moments of passion weren’t the only highlights of their few weeks living together, though. It was the Netflix and chill weekends, and most especially, Kirania’s culinary skills.

Given her way of life which she proudly advertised on social media, many would presume Kirania would have the cooking skills of a dead church mouse, and that asking her to even boil an egg would be a risky task. As Ferdinand discovered, however, she was quite a pro when it came to foreign cuisine, and he had been treated to quite a number of special international dishes.

Through that, though, he had also discovered something else about her: she harboured a rather puzzling dislike for all things Ghanaian. She detested her birth name, her mother tongue and all other Ghanaian languages, the foods, the leadership of the country… she was like a GH version of Uncle Ruckus from The Boondocks: a hater of the very place she came from.

That obviously didn’t excite Ferdinand very much, but he found it tolerable. That was just a small drop compared to what else she offered him. Besides, when it came to the leadership of the country, they were on the same page.

It was a Friday night, and they were seated on the couch, busily watching ‘Who’s Your Caddy?’ on BET.

As Ferdinand roared with laughter at the crazy scenes in the movie, he felt her head rest on his shoulder.

He looked at her, and smiled as she smiled back at him.

Yep, this is what makes me satisfied, he thought to himself as she snuggled next to him. This was what he desired to come home to.

As for Princess, he had no idea where she was. No calls had come through from her parents, so he could only assume that she wasn’t at their place.

But he didn’t give a semblance of a crap about that. The blundering fool had broken a dear token of appreciation of his, and tried to fight with him. She deserved every misery that came her way.

She could be in hell for all he cared.

***

In room 4 of Forestad Guest House, laid out flat on her back on the queen size bed, slowly breathing in and out…

… lay a mentally exhausted and wounded Princess.

What a horrible couple of weeks it had been. From getting thrown out, to losing a number of her possessions to a car filled with scoundrels on an expedition of mischief, to having to settle for this cost-effective guest house. It had been an absolute nightmare.

Or an extension of the nightmare she had already been enduring in her matrimonial home.

She was so emotionally broken, sentimentally shattered, and psychologically pummelled to bits, even the room service staff could see it. They had had to change her pillow numerous times, as her tears wettened them thoroughly, and those on night duty often heard her sobbing and crying in the room. A few of them had gone ahead to knock on the door and find out what was wrong, only to be gently told by a sullen-looking Princess that she’d eventually be fine.

As she lay on her bed, exhausted was the best word to describe her state of mind.

Fully and thoroughly exhausted. Down to her very bone and marrow.

She had cried enough, wept enough, and mourned enough.

Now it was time to take a decision. A decision she had hesitated on since arriving in this guest house.

That part of her was tired of all this stress and pain, and wanted to break loose to set things right. Yet, the other part of her insisted that it would be foolish and utterly counterproductive to take that route.

As the days went by, and the painful memories continued to repeat incessantly in her mind, however, the resistance grew weaker and weaker. The grip on her prior stance began buckling under the pressure of time and memories.

It’s time, Princess, it’s time…

No, this won’t help you in any way! There’s no use going back…

And how much has moving forward benefited you? Please, cut the crap! It’s time, Princess. It is time!

Slowly rising up to a sitting position, she wiped the remnants of earlier-shed tears, and nodded to herself.

“Mmmm. Yeah. I guess it is time. No use staying where I am now; it’s done nothing for me. It’s time… Time to go back to him.”

She reached for her phone, opened the contact list…

And found his number.

And pressed the call button.

Surely, this is not Ferdinand she’s going back to, right? Coz there’s absolutely no way she should be returning to him…