Chronicles of Real Estate Investors – Romance goes sour -Part 2

Cont’d from Romance Goes Sour(pt2)

Siji…

Siji: What???

Are you upset? Did I do something wrong?

Siji: So, what would you have me say? (his voice steadily rising). You’ve gone ahead, miss feminist, to do you. What’s the aim, tryna upstage me?

What???What are you saying? I’m lost. I don’t follow.

Siji: Listen Shewa, I’ve had it up to here with your overbearing self. What, I’m supposed to say congratulations? Why are you telling me now? After you’ve gone ahead to do what you want to do? So, I should hold my head high up in the streets and say I’m the fiancé of a landlady? At this point I just might as well pack my baggage and come live with you, pants wearer.

Wait, Siji, you’re actually upset that I invested in real estate with my own funds, funds that I’ve worked hard to save over the years, that I’m making smart financial moves is pissing you off. I honestly can’t believe the things I’m hearing.

Siji: Shewa you better get off your high horse. I have no qualms with you doing whatever you want with your money, but common, it’s just somehow. (he shifted the weight on his chair, looking every inch uncomfortable). This is Nigeria, regardless of what you think. It’s just somehow. So, you go ahead, make land investments, what next, buy cars, build mansions, and I’m supposed to be what, just here like…

Head bent, downwards, I held my face in my hands. In shame. This was not the reaction I was expecting. This was not the person I thought I knew. Believe you me, the things he was saying, I really couldn’t believe. But I could see what this was. I had a pulse of what this was. The insecurity was oozing out of every pore of his being. I raised my head in utter dismay, still grappling to comprehend.

Siji: (he continued to rant in an almost explosive voice) What would my friends…How does it reflect on me…You couldn’t even tell me before you went ahead…Enjoy your dinner miss, he said with the most sarcastic look on his face and walked away, slamming the food bill on the table. I followed behind him moments later, like a wet dog that had just fallen into an ice pond.

Cut to present:

8:17pm — He begun to pack his bags. He was packing forcefully, shoving everything into his luggage box at the same damn time, you would think he was trying to rip his luggage apart.

I stared at him, totally lost. In all our 7 months of dating, I’d never seen Siji this mad, this upset, and I was trying to wrap my head around it.

Shewa: I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t think it through. Errrm, I’m sorry Siji, I didn’t in anyway mean to make you uncomfortable, or usurp your manhood, or anything like that…I’ve already gone ahead to make payment, I’ll just tell my agent to write up the title in both our names. I’m sorry….

Siji stops, dead in his frantic packing tracks…He pauses…looks at me…and I feel his tensions dissipate on hearing my last statement. He sits on the bed. Quiet. I feel his anger quelling. And slowly he loosens up. And I can detect a tiny little smile from his heart to his face. My fears were confirmed. Insecurity.

Shewa: You know what? I’m not sorry. I’m not. Goodbye Siji.

Now I pick up my bag, and what’s left of my things and push past the hotel room door.