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A Lifetime with a Conman
I looked at my phone for the fifth time in a span of 20 minutes and realised that there was still no message, no call, nothing from him. And I promised myself that this time I was going to kill him. How could one guy not be able to keep his word every single time? And how come I kept believing his lies? Every other day he came up with a new web of lies just to string me along, and I kept on buying it!!!! What kind of idiot was I that I never read between the lines? How could I not be able to tell when he was lying to me after all these years!!!!???
As I stood by the window angrily gazing out onto our compound that was being drenched by the rain, I noticed that our son's toy truck set was still lying in the grass. That just made me even more furious than I was at his father. The little troublemaker had assured me that he had brought them in with him when I had called him in to have his cup of chocolate milk that, might I add, he had conned out of me. I guess it's true what they say, like father, like son. So I quickly ran out to get my little boy's trucks, myself, again, before they were washed by the rain. And that's when I saw his father's motorbike approaching.
I prepared myself for war and even forgot to protect my hair from the rain. Patiently, I waited for him to finish parking the bike, fuming the whole time, just waiting to hear what excuse he was going to give me this time. He finally got off the bike and started walking towards me. That's when I noticed it. He was walking with a limp in his step, part of his right upper arm was covered with a bandage and there was a gash on his lower lip. I dropped the toys on the ground and anxiously ran towards my husband. With panic clearly etched in my every word I asked him, "honey what happened? Are you alright?" And the idiot had the audacity to say, "at least you won't say that I just faked these injuries as another excuse." I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, all my anger of thirty minutes ago behind me, for the time being. I leaned in closer and kissed him lightly before we hugged right there in the rain. "Thank God you're home safe," I whispered to him, which made him chuckle. And that's the image that our little boy saw when he looked out of his bedroom window.
As I stood by the window angrily gazing out onto our compound that was being drenched by the rain, I noticed that our son's toy truck set was still lying in the grass. That just made me even more furious than I was at his father. The little troublemaker had assured me that he had brought them in with him when I had called him in to have his cup of chocolate milk that, might I add, he had conned out of me. I guess it's true what they say, like father, like son. So I quickly ran out to get my little boy's trucks, myself, again, before they were washed by the rain. And that's when I saw his father's motorbike approaching.
I prepared myself for war and even forgot to protect my hair from the rain. Patiently, I waited for him to finish parking the bike, fuming the whole time, just waiting to hear what excuse he was going to give me this time. He finally got off the bike and started walking towards me. That's when I noticed it. He was walking with a limp in his step, part of his right upper arm was covered with a bandage and there was a gash on his lower lip. I dropped the toys on the ground and anxiously ran towards my husband. With panic clearly etched in my every word I asked him, "honey what happened? Are you alright?" And the idiot had the audacity to say, "at least you won't say that I just faked these injuries as another excuse." I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, all my anger of thirty minutes ago behind me, for the time being. I leaned in closer and kissed him lightly before we hugged right there in the rain. "Thank God you're home safe," I whispered to him, which made him chuckle. And that's the image that our little boy saw when he looked out of his bedroom window.
