Is Agatha’s husband sleeping with the housemaid?

I’d like you to read Agatha’s story….

Blessed with a beautiful family of three and graced with everything good that makes life worth living, Agatha couldn’t have wished for anything more than all she already had. She and her husband, Eddy, and their daughter, Sharon, owned a duplex in an highbrow area in the city and where they managed life commendably.

Her daughter attended a school the high class society perceived as the best among the rest, and once or twice in a year, as a routine, the family visited North America or any other country of their choice in Europe to replenish body and soul.

Agatha’s dilemma

Life was indeed good, and Agatha’s family flaunted it. However, Agatha nursed a pain. No matter how good she felt about her life-dawned privileges, her demanding career unfortunately stood in the way of family. A career in banking was burdensome, being the Head of Banking Operations at the head office was hell upgraded. No time to brush your teeth, or attend to anything else, not even family.

Agatha’s dream about her relationship

She hungered to be the typical seasoned home mom and a wife readily available 24/7, but that was something nature took from her in exchange for everything else.

Her husband would try to help, but most times things just didn’t fit. How much can a man give when the asking is domestic? A man may feel proud driving his daughter to school, but having to pick up a napkin to wipe the dishes, to most men, is a disaster worse than a hurricane. There is never nothing like a woman running the home. Men build houses. Women build homes. Period!

Bringing home sweet sixteen

In trying to have a balance, Agatha decided to get a housemaid to walk in her shadow. Someone to take care of the home, make the meals and take good care of Sharon while she was out at work.

Her husband bought the idea: calculatingly to escape the domestics he always had to manage to bear amidst his busy schedule. No blames. He ran a flourishing modeling agency from home and his client traffic was always jammed to the teeth. Giving his macho endorsement to the request, Agatha brought home her new housemaid a week later.

Ohmigod…good graciousl!

Now, Ebong the new housemaid was sumptuously crafted by nature. She was about twenty seven years of age, beautiful, and generously endowed with a dazzling figure, and every component well aligned and perfectly adequate to make a man kneel. If she was Eve, Adam would have munched two more apples. She was barely educated, yet she wore over herself an admirable carriage that told of the Elizabethan age. Agatha’s husband had his eyes pasted all over her, albeit secretly.

Looking away while the house is about to be on fire

Any right thinking woman won’t bring Ebong home as a housemaid, not even if she were a nun. But Agatha saw no problem in that. She was too eager to fix things and just wouldn’t think about what any typical woman in her position would. All she did was to restrict Ebong from wearing anything odd in the house. That settled, relieved, she mindlessly returned to her career, leaving the home to her new housemaid.

Thank God, we found an angel!

For about two years, everything rode on a smooth lane. It seemed Ebong was worth the find. Agatha would come back from work to a well run home, a happy Sharon, and a contended Sweetheart, all thanks to Ebong. She cooked the meals and minded every other thing that was meant to be done.

She was devoted and loyal and she proved she could be trusted. And to show her appreciation, any time the family went abroad, Agatha would buy all a lady should need. She was not a housemaid anymore; she had metamorphosed into a sister.

But unfortunately, all that was about to end.

What’s that noise from the room?

Agatha came home early one afternoon and walking into the living room, she felt something quite unusual about the place. An empty bottle of Baron Red Wine and two used wine glasses littered the floor and the sofa was rumpled. It was a scene well detailed you were certain you knew what was amiss. To endorse the seemingly obvious, Agatha’s ears picked a soft noise coming from upstairs. Her eyes widened. Possible scenarios of all sorts appeared in her reasoning frame. Her matrimonial bed, Ebong, Eddy, sex, hell!

Hey you, you under arrest!

Like a soldier who had five seconds to get away from a timed bomb, she took to the stairs with the speed of a cheetah, hoping to unravel a mystery, and flinging her car keys into the waste bin without knowing she did. Her heels hit hard on the floor tiles churning out loud knocks like those of a tornado nail being hit by a carpenter’s cruel hammer.

If her thought was right, twenty minutes thereafter, a knife stained with blood will be found on the spot with three dead bodies scattered about the room. The manhood of the only man among them chopped off! Yet she hoped otherwise. She rammed into the door that led into the bedroom she shared with her husband, turned the door knob, and… bang!

What just happened in here?

There alone in the room was Ebong. She was picking the dirty clothes due for washing, and her boss’ sudden emergence had just scared her out of her skin.

Agatha looked around silently and deliberately didn’t respond to the young lady’s greetings. She looked into the closet, into the wardrobe, everywhere possible but found nothing. Then she picked on the window that looked down to her daughter’s playground. Sharon was there playing with the family dog, Sweden, a Caucasian the size of a full grown polar bear. Beside the two best friends sat her husband, reading a tabloid.

She ran her eyes all over the playground for anything unusual. Her eyes picked on a ladder rested on the wall by the window with its feet in the playground. What is the ladder doing by the window? It was not there when she left home for work that morning. Did Eddy get off the room to the playground using the ladder?

Why was the bed ruffled, and the pillows not the way she placed them before leaving for work? Who drank the red wine? The questions kept coming in droves until Ebong’s voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Auntie, how was work today?” Agatha looked towards her coldly and blasted, “Get out!”

Is Agatha’s husband sleeping with the housemaid?

Building a successful career is always an achievement and I raise my hat for all you women who put in a lot of sacrifices into attaining your career goals.

I should really. It is tougher building a career as a woman than as a man. My wife is a school proprietress and I witnessed it was tough for her attaining that height amiss her other inexcusable responsibilities. Career women are goal-getters and home-setters at the same time. This is tough to bear. Women are golden.

Yet, building a career without consideration for your relationship and family can devalue your career pursuit and even, can be disastrous; so the need for you to create a balance coming about as very crucial, and you working that out very necessary.

The narration above is the chapter one of my novel, AGATHA. It is the thought-provoking, true life experience of a soulful woman who finds herself torn between minding her home and her demanding banking career.

But don’t blame Agatha yet. Wait till you meet with the killer-shocker somewhere in Chapter Ten. Of course you will be the first know if I’m done writing it. Meanwhile, hold strong to my piece of advice:

My advice

Guard your territory jealously and avoid self-attracted rivalry where your relationship is connected. There was nothing wrong in Agatha getting a housemaid, but her choice just didn’t fit the context. Ebong was too extreme and though she may be innocent and harmless, she was everything in a woman to arrest a man.

Men are unpredictable species designed for adventure and falling into temptations is a natural and very convenient calling. Sad enough, your man is no exception. Neither am I!

Will be back shortly. Pink kisses.

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