The Silver Frame

THE SILVER FRAME

Fisayo Talabi

It was about five thirty p.m on Friday. Most of her staff had started filing out one by one. The famous RCCG camp program was happening so it was pretty sure there was going to be traffic. In an hour, she was the only one left in the building. It wasn’t that she had any work in particular to do.  In fact, she had more thinking to do than work. She had gotten all the reports she needed and discussed with staff from the Legal department on drafting the necessary contracts she needed towards the new contract they were bidding for from a foreign company.
She removed her Jimmy Choo high heels and relaxed in her Leather chair. The picture of her and Lanre in the silver frame on her mahogany desk stared her in the face. That one picture, she couldn’t get rid of, even if she had decided to let him go.
Yeah, she had to let him go…because he did not belong to her. He was another woman’s husband…
 
***
Folusho had been really lonely. She had never been married and was always consumed with work and building a career. Now the career was successful, but she didn’t have a family at thirty eight. Her landmark for marriage had always been twenty five. But by twenty five she had decided she wanted to get an MBA. Her first degree had been from the University of Lagos, but she wanted more than that. And so the answer to her prayers came. She had gotten a scholarship to study at Princeton. Things had gone so well and by twenty seven, she wanted a wider basket of opportunities. The scholarship came again for a second degree in Business Compliance from Harvard. She worked with An International bank for some years before she then decided to get a Doctorate from the U.K at thirty three. 

She met someone at thirty five. Ralph. She knew she had never met anyone like him. He had been so sweet and loving, and everything she wanted, but she hadn’t been able to make a decision. First reason was, he had studied French Language at the University, and he had been trying to start his own French school for kids. She had thought it was a good idea and had even written him a cheque of some money for capital. But then, she met Lanre, a Ph.D. holder, a Doctor of Business Finance from Cambridge, at an International Business seminar she had attended.

She wasn’t one to judge a man by his assets, but she knew she couldn’t get married to Ralph. It just didn’t match. So when he proposed to her with a ring from Eko market, Folusho had been touched by the gesture, but not moved. Staring at him in his two bedroom flat, with no illumination due to power failure and a faulty generator, she decided she couldn’t live like this for the rest of her life. The Liabilities pending seemed greater than the Assets he had, or even whatever future profits or revenue that lay ahead. She knew she had encouraged and supported his dreams and all, but she just couldn’t do this. So she had apologized and told him he would find someone better.

The relationship with Lanre Fowler Ph.D. had started not too long afterwards. He was everything Ralph was not; Well-read, well-travelled, well-moneyed, and well-married. Yes. Folusho knew he had a wife. But at this age, she didn’t mind being a mistress. She just wanted a man! She was tired of trusting God for a life partner this yearas her Pastor always encouraged. She had been trusting and God had sent a guy who had no financial prospects…Ralph.
Lanre had come to her saying he had problems with his wife and he needed to feel loved again. And Folusho was ready to give that love. She knew it was wrong, but she enjoyed every bit of the ride. From their foreign vacations, to cooking for him, having him sleep over, and the spontaneous text messages he sent her at work. She had fallen in love with him, and wasn’t willing to let go.

His wife had confronted her a few times. The woman was pretty, but a housewife who was growing fatter by the day from idleness. She never cursed her though, whenever she confronted. She only said God would judge her and he would get what she deserved. Lanre always apologized for the confrontations, and made it up to her in diverse ways which were quick to wipe the memories.
 
***
Earlier that Friday, Ralph had stopped by the office. He happened to be the Nigerian representative of the French company that her legal team was bidding for a contract from. She had been shocked, but he had been really mature about it, and even decided he would put in a good word for her company with his French bosses. She wasn’t blind that he was doing really well for himself. He had told her the French school turned out alright and she realized he wasn’t just talking when he mentioned the name of the school. She looked at his finger before he left her office. He had a band…which was obviously not gold from Eko Market.
She ran her fingers through the picture of her and Lanre in the silver frame. There would have been four people in the picture. The child that she had given birth to. He had been a boy. Lanre’s wife had only girls, and he had been really happy when Folusho’s scan had shown it was a boy. But had been a still born boy. She had been pregnant a second time, but had suffered a miscarriage.
And then, Folusho got the message. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to be toying with another woman’s husband…especially a praying woman.
 
 
*FISAYO TALABI IS A SHORT-FICTION WRITER. For more short stories please visitolufisayotalabi.blogspot.com
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Comments

  1. mrs krixx6/15/2014

    Lovely write up....especially love the last sentence.

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    Replies
    1. The Last words got me smiling. Nice fiction

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  2. Nicely written.I have bookmarked your blog.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous6/15/2014

    Very interesting.

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  4. Anonymous6/16/2014

    Very good written skills. You sure know how wo weave a tale. Keep it up girl.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Very nice writeup.I enjoyed every bit of it.

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  6. Anonymous6/17/2014

    Wow what a beautiful piece

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wow. That's all I can say...... wow.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wow. That's all I can say...... wow.

    ReplyDelete
  9. kemisola6/18/2014

    i wanted to like it but then i realize there is no like button... good work

    ReplyDelete
  10. Thank you all so much. Thanks Aunty Eya.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Anonymous7/01/2014

    Beautiful story... major lesson, never toy with a praying woman!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Anonymous7/01/2014

    Beautiful story... major lesson, never toy with a praying woman!

    ReplyDelete

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