Two

"So, when is she giving you the money?" Abdul's question stops me in my tracks. I was pulling off my hijab just after praying Zuhr prayers. I let the orange stretchy material drop back unto my body before slow

"What money?" He sighs and looks everywhere but at me. "The recommendation money fa. You're supposed to have collected it by now." I make a face at him and he points at me, shaking his index finger from his seat. "And don't give me that face. You're too slow." I shake my head.

It's been two days since Ali's insistent pushing and Abdul told me of his trip to Kano and a single moment of peace has not been my own since then. He talks about money at any available time. Money! Money all the time.

"Abdul, we've been married for two years and six months, you're supposed to know me better. How would I just accept a product, not use it, pretend to my followers that all is fine and dandy, only for them to buy rubbish?" I shake my head again before continuing, not believing Abdul's attitude for a second.

Anger reels through me at the audacity of his request so I shout, "No! I will not. You know my style, they send me the product, I test it, if I don't like how it is, I send the remaining back and don't recommend to my followers. Too many people bank on my reviews for me to be lying." On I*******m, I have about half a million followers I grew all by myself, hard work that I will not throw unto the seats because of Abdul's greed.

He hisses and crosses a leg over another, pulling out his iPhone 11 promax and typing rapidly on it. "Abdul?" I call. "Yes, Mrs two-goody-shoes?" I rear back, hurt. Goody shoes? All because I won't take money falsely? Who is this Abdul? Has this man changed right under my nose?

"Abdul," I start gently, walking further into the living room where he is sitting.

"Remember you taught me not to take things without earning them, you taught me right here in this living room how to be a proper Muslim and that includes not taking what I have not earned! Why then are you trying to make me do this? Isnt this lowering your own standard?" He doesn't reply me, instead, he gets up and leaves the living room. I sigh and flop unto the huge comfortable chair I spend time on but the plushness of the chair doesn't do any good to what is hurting my heart.

A thought occurs to me just as I relax, didn't Abdul take three hundred thousand out of our joint account last week? What does he need more money for? I jump out of the chair and rush to ask him.

"Husby?" I lovingly call when I get into the dimly lit room. "Uhuun?" His answer comes to me from the left side of the bed, so I go there, pull the drapes backward, spilling some light over his dark skin. If there was one thing, Allah blessed Abdul with, it would be his abundantly clear skin and amazing hair, so i drool over that before asking the dreaded question.

"Why did you withdraw that large amount of money from the joint account without telling me? I thought the agreement was, you'd tell me, then we'd decide if the purchase was important before making it. How can we save for our own house if you keep this up?" My voice rises at the end because, I just cannot help myself. I had a headache when I saw the alert last week.

"I used it to pay some bills and buy my sisters some really nice things. Bella has been bugging me for a new phone." Bella is his youngest sister Fauziya who is just like Abdul; greedy and very disrespectful.

I tilt my head. "Abdul? You paid bills out of our saved money?" I bite my tongue when I say our, its mine. He hasn't contributed a dime since he lost his job a month after our wedding.

"Yes na! Look Bee stop policing me, stop policing my money. Abi, it's no longer my money? It's now your money?" I raise an eyebrow at him due to how he asks saucily, his face contorted in a disrespectful manner. I swallow and drop the curtain, blocking the light that had flooded the room. I walk slowly out of the room, briefly wondering if I don't need to get another account asides the one that he knows. But isn't that like a sin? You know, willfully lying?

I sigh.

I take out the nylon bag holding the package from the table I use to film right in front of the sunniest source of light in my living room and sit at the table. I lift my hand to turn on the camera and I wave slightly at the camera in greeting. I carefully unwrap the package and take out the fruity scenting incense the client has packaged for me to advertise.

I switch on my medium sized electric incense burner and open up one glass bottle, labeled 'orange' and spray some of it over the now hot burner. It smells heavenly and I say so to the camera. "It's perfect for when you're going out and you don't want to use perfume, you'll have a fruity scent emanating from you wherever you turn, isn't that nice?"

I show the camera other well packaged bottles of fruity incense and turn off the camera when I'm done. Then, I d******d the video to my laptop and begin editing it for posting later. I hear the bedroom door shut and I turn to wait for Abdul to show.

"So, you like it ba? Ask her for the money. Quick quick. I need money." I scoff and continue doing what i was doing, I was hoping for a reconciliation or an apology at best. This, is a surprise.

"I've not told her my decision yet." I flash him what I hope is a nice smile. He likes my smiles so I hope this one takes his mind off this money.

He walks to my side and sits at my side, raising one bottom to sit on the table. "Labeebah. Please, I haven't bought foodstuffs for the girls and Maama this month and wallahi I hate myself for it." I shut my eyes, feeling my natural long lashes touch my upper cheekbones close to my eyes.

"How much do you need?" I ask him. " A Hundred thousand. They need to stock up food because of Zuwaiya's wedding next month." I bite the inside of my cheek. Zuwaiya is Abdul's immediate younger sister, the only one that I tolerate.

"I was hoping to use that money to pay Ali Gaja back his advance money for that Mariya movie. I don't feel good acting it and I thought I'd use it." I finish looking up at his face as I shut my mouth. He lifts his hand to cup his mouth, I can see surprise in his eyes.

"Labeebah, so you are a wicked person like this? You'd rather my family starve than for you to act with Ali? What would it cost you? A month at most on set with him. So what?" I shake my head pushing back my chair.

"Don't you even fear for my safety at all?" I ask, bewildered. He laughs, a mocking laugh that breaks my heart into tiny pieces.

"When you got that first role, you should have expected it. Are you not sleeping with one of them by now." I shake my head slowly, unable to believe all that he is spouting. What hurts the most is that it isn't a question, it's a statement. As though he has made up his mind. People who studied Islam to this level are supposed to know that calling your wife a prostitute already ends a marriage. But what can I do? If I call him out if it and he really divorces me, what will I do?

"You think I'm doing that? Is that why you haven't touched me in months?" I finally say before shutting my eyes hoping to trap the tears and pain in it.

"Don't even cry. If I see one crocodile tear, I might just slap that hypocrisy out of you. Who are you trying to deceive?" I shake my head again, this time, the pain has caught up with me making my head throb.

"You know what, I'm not in the mood to talk, just send the hundred to my personal account. Okay? Let me not be angrier than I am with you."

I sink to the floor and watch him leave the room in his cargo pants and black tee shirt that has 'Wicked' emblazoned across the back. It is what he is, wicked.

Abdul is surely showing the real him.

Song for the chapter- Best thing I never had (Beyonce)