My birthday gift was delivered with such class and mystery, and its contents amazed me, that I called my friends to boast about the girl of their dreams. Brian, however, still maintained that Cheryl’s gestures towards me were rather too expensive, especially for a woman her age.
“Bro, Cheryl is working! ” I told him while on the video call as I showed off my spanking new Macbook.
“You know how much that costs right?” He asked.
“So what? She’s very great on savings dude. Haven’t I told you how financially literate this babe is?” I respond, swinging in my office chair.
“Every chance you get bro”, he answers. Amid laughter, I fire back, “Get a rich girlfriend dude!” He laughs too, before he freezes on the call, and I hang up. Cursing about his poor internet connection.
I met Cheryl through a mutual friend, who wouldn’t stop singing praises about her. Quite frankly, I was mostly attracted to her because of how dresses flaunted her body and the ease of her smile. She was so soft-spoken and rarely ruffled feathers with anyone. She liked things done the easy way. She would rather spend more money on cabs, rather than waste her breath arguing with bus conductors about hiked fares and squeezing in matatus.
She handled things with so much grace and class. The few times she spent the night over, she was kind even to things that didn’t need kindness. Things that would never appreciate kindness. She would hand notes and coins to street children who begged while we walked around town, even after I explained to her that those kids spent the money on drugs and nothing substantial.
“It doesn’t change the fact that they are in need babe”, she would often respond.
“But that is just temporary help… ” I’d press. It irked her, but even when disgruntled, she barely lost her cool and acted out of order. She was so methodic, always organized and sort of subscribed to a code of conduct only available to her.
“Well, that temporary help, gets something done. You do what you have to do right?”
“I don’t think that’s the proper way to go about this?” Giving up conversations has never been my thing and not even Cheryl’s calmness motivated me to be calm about things.
“What’s the proper way?” She asks, her eyebrows edging closer to each other. A visible frown formed.
Nonetheless, I shared my stellar recommendations that the government should take the initiative to clear the streets and protect its children, and she listens, dismissively.
“In what world does that ever work? Hmmm? How many people have gone about it the right way and still don’t get what they deserve?” she asked, visibly annoyed.
“Well you just have to be patient, ” I answer, desperately trying to end the conversation at that point.
“No darling, you do what you have to do”. She meant it, literally.
I was deeply fascinated by Cheryl’s character, her demeanour, elegance and the fact that she was the “go-getter girl”. Never in a million years, did I think I’d wake up to paparazzi photos of my girl, all over Instagram. I mean she carried herself with so much grace and most of the time we spent together, we talked investment, financial literacy, budgets, taxes, businesses, you name it.
Matter of fact, we had an AirBnB business in the pipeline, and things were really looking up. I took a second look at the picture, and I recognized the boots, the dress and the trench coat she had on. We bought the entire outfit at the mall about a month ago.
Brian called as I was still zooming in and out of the pictures.
“Bro, that’s her?” He asked. His question felt like a gotcha moment. Like he had been waiting for the day he would drag me in the mad for dating Cheryl.
“Still not sure,” I mumbled.
“What do you mean not sure? Haven’t you seen the pictures?” He pressed. He was certain he was Cheryl, but he was so hellbent on getting a reaction from me.
“I have to ask her first bro”, I add.
“You are in denial bro, that bitch is a whore!”
“Listen, Brian, don’t talk about my girl like that, those images could be doctored to begin with. Knowing Cheryl, she keeps such a low profile, she couldn’t have been with that guy.”
“You are making excuses for her,” Brian insisted, I could sense laughter in his voice.
“Brian, I’m hanging up now”, I wanted an escape.
Cheryl called me barely twenty minutes later, sounding calm and collected; her usual nature.
“Good morning babe”, she said, her voice calmer than ever.
“Good morning too babe. Have you seen the pictures on Instagram? Could you believe Brian thinks that’s you?” I ask, desperate to change something out of my control.
“Babe, you don’t think that’s me?” She asked sounding alarmed.
“Aaaa…” My throat went dry, and I swallowed saliva, once, then twice.
“Were you asking for a selfie? Was he harassing you?” At that moment, I hoped that Cheryl would take one of the lies and run with it because I Couldn’t bring myself to imagine her sleeping with a man so old.
“I’m sorry babe, but I’m not going to comfort you with lies. That’s me. The pictures were taken as we left an apartment in Kileleshwa. He’s said he’ll get to the bottom of this by the end of the day.” She was very calm as she said this.
“Cheryl? What the hell are you saying? Are you an escort of sorts?” I blurted.
“Please mind your tone, I don’t appreciate being screamed at,” she answered, calmly. How irritating!
“All because of money? So walk around here, acting all classy and shit yet you are just a cheap whore?” I probed.
“A cheap whore that got you a well-paying job in a reputable firm. The one that pays your bills and gets you all the good stuff? In what world would you afford that?” she asked, the first time I heard her losing her cool.
“I didn’t ask for any of it! We could build together. With all that knowledge and our hard work, we could have made each other great!” I said angrily.
“Darling, I just used what I have to get what I want. You have profited from this too. Listen, if you feel like this is too much for you; like I always say, do what you have to do.”
She had always thrown this phrase around, but I never read too much into it. I’d hoped to spend the afternoon with my boys to lecture them about having financially independent girlfriends, but my rage led me to smash the Macbook into my bedroom wall. Mostly because Cheryl didn’t seem to care that I was displeased about the pictures in circulation.
I logged onto Twitter late in the evening and I caught a whiff of why Cheryl seemed to care less. About four guys in the comment section shared their experiences, and how they learnt of Cheryl’s ‘escort business’ while they were dating. One of the guys had sold a PS4 she bought as a birthday gift, and the other gave it away, the slim guy had sold the iPhone and the photographer guy smashed the camera.
What irritates me to date, is that I’m still wishing that I wake up from my terrible dream and work things out with Cheryl, truly, she’s one of a kind. However, I would never live with the thoughts of her being with older men for money; not my Cheryl. She seems to be holding up fine like nothing shook her existence at all!
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