Tango With Me 2

Our anniversary dinner was the bomb. We gazed into each others eyes with love and adoration. When I said yes, ten years before to Femi, I knew it was the best decision any woman could have made. I love my husband and I will always, always love him. Nothing can change that, nothing will.
Femi literally came into my life to wipe away my tears. I had suffered heartbreak, heartbreak of such magnitude that could have sent me to the afterlife. Yeah, that bad.
My first love, the man that had been the first to take me to cloud nine, had let me down. Treated me shabbily. Sometimes if you love too much, you can lose too hard.
We left the restaurant well after midnight. I was full to bursting, my tummy was bulging slightly, I felt lazily happy. Femi drove. I have always loved being driven at the dead of night. Zero traffic,  ambience  exceedingly cool, and the quietness, soothing.
We got home and my husband started undressing me from the sitting room, we giggled like kids as we made our way into our bedroom. I gave my husband the love making of a lifetime that night. I gave myself to him in ways that surprised even me. Perhaps it was triggered a little by guilt. Perhaps I sought to make myself clean in him. I am doing the abominable, sometimes I actually despise myself. Initially it was awful for me. But after sleeping with my husband’s immediate younger brother for well over ten years, before and  whilst being married to his elder brother, I am becoming immune to my conscience.

To be continued