Pop corn

either the tables are going to turn or i'm going to flip them.

My new secretary was h0tter than my wife, and I won’t even |ie about that.

It wasn’t just her looks; it was the way she carried herself. The subtle way of her hips as she catwalked into my office, the fragrance that enter into the air long after she left, and the way her voicecurled softly around my name like silk.

Each time she leaned slightly on my desk and said,

“Sir Gilbert, please… there’s something I want to ask you,”

My heart betrayed me. It skipped.

I knew her questions were strictly work-related, but her presence had begun to intoxicate me. Slowly, the hours in the office became sweeter than the hours at home. Cassandra had become my distraction.

That Friday, I wasn’t even supposed to work. Yet, there I was, dressing up, knotting my tie. The mirror reflected a man hiding behind excuses.

A soft voice interrupted.

“Honey… you’re still going to work today?”

I turned. My wife stood by the door, her eyes tender, her tone genuine.

“Yes,” I answered quickly. “Why do you ask?”

She stepped forward, her delicate fingers brushing mine as she helped me adjust the tie I had been struggling with. Her touch was familiar yet heavy with unspoken emotions. She let the tie fall, her eyes searching mine.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I just noticed you haven’t been paying much attention to us lately to me, to the kids. You seem… far away. But maybe the workload is much.”

Her words struck deep. And for the first time in weeks, I really looked at her. That was when I noticed it—the cut, thin but visible, across her cheek.

My heart tightened. “What happened here?” I asked as I touched it, but she winced in pain.

She tried to smile it off. “Oh, this? Three days ago. I just laid Tobi on the bed and I rushed to clean and feed the chickens… but Tobi started crying soon, so when I tried to rush back inside. The ground was slippery from the rain. I fell. It was deeper than it looks, but it’s healing.”

She chuckled faintly, but her laugh was strained.

My chest burned.

My wife, barely three weeks after childbirth, was juggling the house, the baby, and even the chickens, while I sat in my office letting temptation creep in.

I loosened my tie instantly. “I’m not going anywhere today. After all, I’m the boss.”

She froze, her eyes wide, then blushed as if she couldn’t believe she heard me right.

That day, I stayed. I carried Tobi, rocked him as his soft cries filled the room. I cleaned out the chicken pen.

We however had workers before now, but we fired them all because they teamed hands and were intentionally k!lling the chickens and blaming it that they were sick, only to take it home and enjoy with their families.

After taking care of the chicken pen, I told my wife, “I’ll hire hands to help you—you won’t go through this stress again,” I saw her shoulders relax. Her lips curved into the kind of smile that reminded me why I married her.

That night, while she slept beside me, I made my decision: Cassandra had to go.

Then came Monday morning, I woke up and headed to work with a determined heart.

But as soon as I walked into the office with a firm resolve. But there, on my desk, was a surprise, a fancy silver flask.

“Cassandra!” My voice was sharp.

She entered, graceful as always, her smile spreading like honey across her face.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Who kept this here?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. Then she stepped closer. “I… I prepared it for you. I’m very good at cooking party jollof rice. I thought it would be nice. Please don’t say no.”

She opened the flask. The rich aroma of jollof rice and spicy chicken filled the office, teasing my nostrils, almost breaking my resolve.For a moment, I was tempted. Her eyes, the food, the scent… everything pulled at me. But then I remembered my wife’s cut, her soft whisper, her tired smile when I chose her over work.

I straightened, my voice firm.

“Cassandra.”

Her lashes fluttered. “Yes, Sir?”

“There’s no need to cook for me. I only eat meals prepared by my wife.”

The smile on her face shattered. She tried to mask it, covering the flask quickly.

“And one more thing,” I continued, my tone colder now. “From today, you’ll be posted to the ninth floor. Assist the accounts department with filing and documentation. Pack up your things and move immediately.”

Her eyes widened in shock. She opened her mouth to protest, but I didn’t let her. The devil had been entertained long enough.

That evening, I passed by a boutique. I bought my wife a set of beautiful clothes. When I got home, I handed her the bags.

“You are my wife,” I said, looking straight into her eyes. “Only you have the right to intoxicate me.”

Her laughter filled the house, chasing out the silence that had lived there for weeks.

As she hugged me and plant a soft kiss on my lips after saying a multiple thank you, all I could say was,

"Killiii me killiii me my Baby, nah you be onye nwem."

She laughed the more as she dished me my meal, and we ate together.

Driving home after spending $400 on a date and only got a hug

studies have shown that guys with bright future tends to be broke in their 20's

Me: I wanna to withdraw 10k add charges
POS Woman: Charges na 300naira
Me: How much for 5k
POS Woman: 100naira
Me: Give me 5k 2 times
POS Woman: 👀
Me: 👀👀👀👀

It's too early to annoy me, Abeg

Please will be mentioning 10k, 20k you'll think you have finally seen ur mate till you realize say its not naira that they're talking about 😪💔

Now, let me be honest, my mum has always had a thing for younger men. She’s 49 and has been with men as young as 23. She even once had a fling with the brother of my sister’s boyfriend. It’s something that has always made me unc0mfortable and ẽmbarassed .All her relationships, whether dating or married, are always with younger men, some of whom have no direction in life. She’s battled with mental health issues and always seemed to choose men who drink, smoke, or just want to be taken care of. It’s like she put these men before her own children.

I went through my mum’s phone while she was lying unc0nscious after a str0ke, and what I saw still havnts me. That day at the hospital, curi0sity got the best of me. I picked up her phone and went through her messages. I know I shouldn’t have, but the screen kept lighting up with so many notifications. As I scrolled, I saw a name that made my stomach turn. It was a guy I used to know, someone who once tried to date me but had no sense of pr¡de or direction. He kept ¢hasing me even after I cut him off. He’d even drive long distances just to pass by my house, hoping to catch me with someone. He was 0bsessed and d£sperate.

And there he was, s£xting my mum. My mum was responding to him, fl¡rting back. It felt like a b£trayal on a level I can’t explain. She knew how much I h@ted this guy, and yet she was entertaining him behind my back. She still doesn’t know that I saw those messages.

She’s now fully recovered, she can walk, talk, work, even drive, but that moment never left my mind. I feel like I violated her privacy, and I truly regret that part. But I also feel like she acts like a teenager who constantly needs guidance. I just wish I didn’t know what I know. Every day, I think about it and feel sick to my stomach.

Do i need to tell her or just distance myself from her totally?

Once you tell Snapchat babe say she fine, you don see yourself and your comment for her story😭😂

Hello everyone 👋 After a year away, I finally got my Facebook account back. It feels good to be here again thanks to everyone who stayed connected. Excited to catch up with you all 🙏💙