Chapter 1: Scent No Lie
When my husband mark me for the tenth time during him heat, I begin see plenty comments just dey float for my eye:
[The supporting wife and the main man get very low compatibility. Even if he marks her a hundred times, e no go work.]
[Just wait make the real wife show. With just small of her scent, she go calm the main man finish.]
[No be lie, our real wife and the main man na perfect match—one hundred percent compatibility.]
Na that moment I finally gree: this scent matter don already decide say me and Ikenna no get future.
My chest just dey squeeze, like say person press am from inside, as I dey read those comments. For Lagos, everybody dey mind another person business, but this one pain me reach my bone. The way dem dey talk am, e be like say my love no mean anything if scent no match. But who I be to fight spirit?
So, the day wey the real wife show, I quietly drop the divorce agreement and pack my load to go.
No wahala, no drama, just me and my small bag, waka comot like breeze wey no get direction. Even house girl just dey look me with that pity eye, like say she sabi everything wey dey happen. For inside my heart, na silent prayer I dey say: make God give me strength to waka this road wey I no plan.
But to my surprise, my always cold husband grit him teeth, hold me for wall:
"Your neck nearly wound because of me, baby, and you still dey try run?"
His grip strong but e no rough, more like say na only me fit hold am steady. For the first time, I see small fire for his eyes, like man wey dey fear to lose him last kobo. My legs even weak, my back touch wall, but na his voice break the silence, soft like rain for harmattan night.