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07/02/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 10

I didn’t drive back home that night.

I couldn’t.

I just sat inside the car, sweating, shaking, staring at that black candle on my passenger seat.

The same candle I saw burning blue in our room.

Fresh. Unlit. Sitting there like it had a seatbelt.

I didn’t touch it.

I didn’t even breathe too hard.

For one full hour, I just sat there, hands on the steering, asking myself questions I didn’t have answers to.

How did it get there?

Who put it?

Was it a warning… or a message?

I didn’t know.

But one thing was clear—I was no longer in control.

I ended up sleeping in a cheap hotel at Nsukka. No appetite. No light. No sleep.

Just thoughts.

The next morning, I drove back to town. Straight home. No more Enugu. Not yet.

When I entered the compound, I met Adaeze in the kitchen. She didn’t act surprised. Didn’t ask why I came back early. Just rinsed her hand and said, “Welcome.”

I sat down in the parlour and watched her.

My heart was boiling. But I didn’t want to fight.

Not yet.

That night, while we lay in bed, the power blinked off.

I heard her shift closer to me.

Then she whispered, “You don’t trust me.”

I kept quiet.

She sat up slowly. Her voice was soft, like she was trying not to cry. “You’re starting to act like all the others.”

I turned and faced her. “What others?”

She looked at me.

Long and deep.

Like she was deciding whether to lie… or to tell the truth.

Then she said something I’ll never forget.

“All the men who tried to love me… but couldn’t handle the truth.”

I blinked.

“What truth?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she pulled the cover cloth off her legs, stood up, and walked to the window. Her back was to me, her arms folded tight.

“Somto, let me ask you something,” she said. “If you meet a woman, and you fall in love with her… and then you find out she’s not normal—do you stay? Or do you run?”

I sat up.

“I don’t understand.”

She turned slowly. “Would you stay… if you find out your wife is something you don’t understand? Something that scares even her?”

The room went quiet.

No sound. No generator. No car passing. Just that thick kind of silence that comes before thunder.

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t find my voice.

She walked to the bed, sat beside me, and held my hand.

Her palm was warm. But her fingers were shaking.

“Somto,” she said again, “I know you’re watching me. I know you followed me. I know you saw things.”

I looked at her. “Then tell me the truth.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

She stared at the wall.

“Because the last person I told… died two days later.”

I pulled my hand away slowly.

She didn’t fight me.

She just stood up, walked to the wardrobe, and opened the drawer I thought was locked all this while.

She didn’t even use a key.

She opened it like it was never locked in the first place.

Then she brought out something wrapped in a red scarf.

Dropped it on the bed.

And said:

“Before I show you this… I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t leave this room.”

I stared at the red scarf.

Something inside it was moving.

Slightly.

Like it was breathing.

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© Solely written by Akponwei John Michael.

07/02/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 9

I didn’t touch the mark.

I didn’t sweep the floor. I didn’t talk about it. I just stared at it for ten minutes straight that morning. Then I covered it with the small foot rug at the edge of the bed.

Adaeze didn’t say anything.

She bathed, dressed up, and left the house like she didn’t know that something wrote “RETURN” on our floor while we slept.

But I knew what I saw.

And I was no longer joking with this thing.

After she left, I called the one person that started this whole thing—Chike.

“Guy, you dey office?”

He laughed. “Omo, I dey road. You dey alright?”

“No. I need to see you. Now.”

We met at a buka close to Stadium Road. I didn’t waste time.

“Chike, forget all this laughter. I’m asking you for the last time—who exactly is Adaeze?”

He looked at me, confused. “I don tell you before now…”

“No,” I cut in. “I need full story. Everything. No filters.”

He sighed, looked around like someone who didn’t want to be overheard, then said:

“Omo… I no really know her like that.”

I stared. “What do you mean?”

“She just showed up in town about one year ago. One of my cousins, Onyedika, said he met her at a vigil in Enugu. Said the girl dey quiet, always praying, doing night programs with some older women. They used to go compound to compound, praying for barren women and cleansing spirits and all those things.”

I blinked. “She was doing that?”

“Yes. That’s how people knew her. Then she started living in one empty boys’ quarters near Ibagwa. Alone. No family. No visits. Nothing. Just Adaeze. She dey pray, she dey sell small-small soaps and candles. That’s all.”

I felt cold inside.

Chike sipped his malt slowly, then added, “We all just assumed she was harmless. One of those quiet prayer warriors. That’s why when you said you were looking for a decent wife, I remembered her.”

I was silent.

He leaned closer. “But Somto, what happened?”

I didn’t answer.

How do you explain to someone that you married a woman who talks in tongues you don’t understand… lights black candles that burn blue… locks the door every night after s*x… and whose floor now carries strange messages that appear from nowhere?

Instead, I stood up.

“Thanks, Chike.”

“Guy… talk to me na.”

I walked away.

I needed answers. And now I was sure—I wouldn’t get them by asking Adaeze. I had to go back. To where she came from. Enugu.

That evening, I told her I was travelling for work. Two-day seminar. Port Harcourt. She didn’t ask much. Just nodded and said, “Safe journey.”

I packed small things in a bag and left before dawn the next day.

But I wasn’t going to Port Harcourt.

I was going to Enugu.

To find Obinna & Daughters Herbal Clinic.

To ask questions.

To knock on doors.

To find her past.

But on my way, something strange happened.

Halfway into the journey, just after 9th Mile, my car engine started to overheat. I parked. Waited. Checked the bonnet.

Everything looked normal.

I tried to start the car again.

It refused.

Then I noticed my phone buzzing.

Unknown Number.

I hesitated.

Picked.

The voice was low. Female. Familiar.

“I warned you, Somto.”

Then it cut.

And when I looked up…

…Adaeze’s candle—the black one with blue flame—was sitting on the passenger seat.

Cold.

Unlit.

But fresh.

Like it had just been bought.

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© Solely written by Akponwei John Michael.

07/02/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 8 (ANOTHER SURPRISE, RIGHT?? If YOU'RE SURPRISED, REACT WITH A SURPRISE EMOJI)

“I hope… you didn’t follow me to the other place.”

That was what she said. Soft voice. Calm tone. But the meaning was heavy.

I didn’t reply.

I just stood there for a few seconds… then left the room. My chest was burning, but I kept quiet. For now.

Later that evening, she made ogbono soup with pounded yam. I didn’t even know when I finished the food. My head was full. My heart was confused. But my stomach no dey hear English.

After we ate, she suggested we pray. She sat on the bed and started singing low worship songs. I didn’t join.

I watched her instead.

When she finished, she lay on her side and dozed off like everything was normal. Like there was nothing we needed to talk about.

Around 2:15am, I woke up to p*e.

Again.

This bladder matter was beginning to feel spiritual.

As I was walking back to the room, I noticed something strange.

There was light inside. Candlelight.

I paused at the door.

The bedroom bulb was off, but I could see from the crack under the door that something was flickering inside. Orange. Unsteady.

I turned the handle.

Locked.

Again.

She had locked the door from inside.

I knocked softly. “Adaeze?”

No answer.

I knocked again. “Adaeze, are you okay?”

Still no reply.

Then slowly… I heard something.

Humming.

Soft. Deep. Like a lullaby from another century.

Then a whisper.

Not prayer.

Just whispering.

Like she was talking to something.

Or someone.

After almost five minutes, the door clicked open.

She was standing there.

Hair down. Eyes dull. Skin pale like she hadn’t seen light in weeks.

But what shocked me wasn’t her face.

It was the candle behind her.

It was tall. Black. And burning with a strange blue flame.

No air was blowing, but the flame kept dancing wildly—like it was reacting to something.

I tried to speak, but the words got stuck.

She smiled faintly. “Sorry… I didn’t know you’d wake up.”

I nodded slowly. “What’s the candle for?”

She stepped aside and walked back to the bed, sitting beside the flame like it was her pet.

“It’s just a personal habit. From childhood. It helps me sleep.”

“Since when?” I asked.

She looked at me. Long. Tired. Like someone who had told too many lies and couldn’t keep track anymore.

“Since always,” she said. “You just never noticed.”

I glanced at the candle again. Then at her.

Something was off.

That thing wasn’t a candle for sleep.

I knew it. She knew I knew. But she wouldn’t say it.

And I was too afraid to force it.

We both went to bed after that.

But I didn’t sleep.

Not even a blink.

Because that blue flame refused to die.

And by morning… the wax was gone.

But the floor where the candle had stood was burnt.

A perfect circle—dark, black, and dry—on our tiled floor.

No wax. No smell. No ash.

Just a mark.

And beneath it, scratched into the tile, like something clawed it from underneath—

ONE WORD.

“RETURN.”

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© Solely written by Akponwei John Michael.

07/02/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 7

(Guys, I'm so sorry. I slept off while typing. I'm so fu***ng stressed out.)

That night, we didn’t talk much.

Adaeze sat beside me on the couch, pretending to scroll her phone. I held the remote like I was watching the news. But both of us were just… pretending.

Silence is a strange thing in marriage. Sometimes, it’s peace. Other times, it’s war wearing perfume.

The next morning, Adaeze dressed up like she always does. A smart gown, her hair neatly packed, light powder on her face. She kissed my cheek and said, “I’m going to work.”

I nodded. Watched her walk out the door.

Then I waited five minutes… and followed her.

I wasn’t doing FBI work, abeg. I just wanted to understand who I married. That name I saw on her phone—Obinna—and that herbal clinic signboard hadn’t left my head since last night. If she could hide that, what else was she hiding?

Adaeze told me she worked at a small accounting firm at Ikenna Street. She always left at 8am, returned by 4:30. I’d never bothered to confirm. I trusted her.

Today, I didn’t.

I followed her Keke from a safe distance in my car. Watched her turn into Ikenna Street and enter a small brown building.

From outside, the place looked legit. “Maranatha Consults.” I waited.

Fifteen minutes later, I entered. The receptionist smiled at me. Young girl, chewing gum and scrolling Instagram.

“Good morning,” I said. “Please, I’m looking for Adaeze. She works here.”

The girl paused, looked at me, then frowned. “Adaeze?”

“Yes,” I replied.

She blinked, then turned to another woman seated nearby. “Aunty Tochi, do we have Adaeze working here?”

The woman shook her head slowly. “No Adaeze here o. Are you sure it’s this office?”

I forced a small laugh. “Yes. Maybe I’m mixing it up.”

I stepped out slowly, heart pounding.

If she wasn’t working there… then where had she been going for two months?

I waited in my car, hidden behind a big delivery truck, watching the building.

Around 10:43am, Adaeze stepped out of the brown gate.

But she wasn’t alone.

She was talking to someone—a woman, older, tall, with a limp. The woman was holding a small calabash in her left hand.

Adaeze handed her something in a black nylon, whispered something, then looked around quickly—like someone watching for danger.

I ducked immediately.

My hands were shaking.

She left the woman, crossed the road, and entered another compound—not the brown office building. A bungalow with green paint and no signboard.

So that was it.

She’d been lying. Every day.

By 12pm, I drove off and went straight to Chike’s office.

He was surprised to see me.

“You just show like ghost,” he laughed. “Wetin happen?”

I didn’t waste time.

“Chike,” I said quietly, “you sure say you know that Adaeze well before you introduced her to me?”

He raised his brows. “Ah ah. I told you now. I didn’t know her deep-deep. I only heard good things about her.”

“From who?”

“One aunty in Enugu that owned the compound she was staying in. Said the girl dey quiet, neat, always praying. I even heard she used to help some women with ‘midnight matters.’ You know these spiritual people things.”

I froze. “What do you mean ‘midnight matters’?”

He shrugged. “You know those deliverance, fasting, healing, womb-touching things. Small native, small prayer. That type.”

I felt like vomiting.

I stood up and left his office.

When I got home that evening, Adaeze was already there—sitting quietly on the bed, wiping her feet with a white cloth.

I entered, didn’t say anything.

She didn’t look at me either.

But just as I was about to leave the room, she said something—softly.

“You went to my office today.”

I stopped.

Turned around.

She was still facing her feet. Still wiping.

Then she added, even softer:

“I hope… you didn’t follow me to the other place.”

Biko, support this chapter with 300 reactions. That's all I need to release chapter 8. Let's go!!

© Solely written by Akponwei John Michael.

07/02/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 11

I didn’t promise her.

When she said, “Promise me you won’t leave this room,” I didn’t answer.

I just looked at the red scarf on the bed. Looked at it hard. Something inside it was still moving… gently, like a heartbeat.

And my own heart was not cooperating.

“Adaeze,” I said, my throat dry. “What’s inside?”

She looked at me.

Then back at the scarf.

Then stood up and walked out of the room.

Just like that.

No explanation. No drama. No fight.

And she left the thing there.

I wanted to open it.

My fingers itched to open it.

But something in my spirit said, “Not yet.”

So I waited.

Covered it with the bedsheet.

Later that night, we lay down on the same bed again. She didn’t talk. I didn’t talk.

And then… sometime past 1am, she turned her back to me and slept.

But I didn’t.

Sleep refused to come near me.

I kept staring at the bedroom door.

That door.

The one she always locks after we make love.

The one I’ve never been able to open from inside.

I waited.

Listened to her breathing.

It was soft. Steady. Deep.

She was asleep.

I sat up slowly. My chest was doing agbako. But I didn’t stop.

I stepped down quietly. Tiptoed to the door.

The key was in the lock.

As usual.

But tonight… something in me said, “Try it.”

Just try.

I wrapped my hand around the key.

Paused.

Then turned it.

Click.

That was when I heard it.

Her voice.

Low. But clear.

“Don’t.”

I turned slowly.

She was awake.

Sitting up.

Both eyes wide open.

Staring straight at me.

Not blinking.

Not even shaking.

Just… staring.

Then she said again, calmly:

“If you open that door tonight… something will follow you out.”

I didn’t move.

My hand was still on the key.

She stood up. Her white nightgown barely touched her knees. Her eyes were still locked on me.

“Somto,” she said. “This door is not locked because of me.”

I swallowed hard. “Then who is it for?”

She walked closer. Her steps were light, slow. Her voice dropped even lower.

“It’s for what comes after.”

I felt something crawl down my spine.

“I need air,” I said, trying to sound normal.

“There’s air inside here,” she replied. “There’s none out there. Not tonight.”

I looked at the door again.

Then back at her.

Then I said it.

“What exactly are you?”

She smiled.

But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

And then… she said something that broke me in half.

“I’m the last daughter of a line that was never meant to marry.”

I stared.

Confused.

“What does that mean?”

She looked at the door.

And whispered:

“Somto… they’ve already entered.”

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© Solely written by Akponwei John Michael.

*

06/27/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 6 (I DECIDED TO SURPRISE YOU GUYS😁)

I stared at the text again.

"She’s not who you think she is. And if you love your life, stop asking questions."

No name. No emoji. Just a threat dressed as advice.

I looked around. Nothing. Nobody. The street was still quiet. Generator hums in the distance. Morning sun trying to find its way.

I deleted the message. Not out of fear. But because I didn’t know what to do with it.

Inside the house, Adaeze was acting like nothing happened.

She cooked yam and egg sauce. Swept the sitting room. Even folded my clothes neatly on the bed.

But one thing was off—she didn’t mention the woman.

Not once.

She didn’t ask if I saw her again. Didn’t ask if the woman said anything. Didn’t even ask if I was okay.

That silence said more than any explanation could.

After lunch, I sat down and watched her move around. She wasn’t restless… but she wasn’t fully at peace either. Like someone waiting for a knock they hope won’t come.

So I decided to test something.

“Babe,” I said gently, “my mum has been asking when we’ll come to Owerri. I was thinking we could travel this weekend. Spend time with her. Just two days.”

She froze for one second. Just one. But I caught it.

Then she turned and smiled.

“Aww. That’s sweet. But babe… this weekend is too soon.”

I leaned forward. “Too soon? We’ve been married two months now.”

“I know,” she said, looking down at her hands. “But things are still fresh. Let’s settle small first. Maybe later.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. When?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she smiled again. “I’ll know when the time is right.”

That was the second red flag of the day.

I didn’t push it.

But later that evening, when she was in the kitchen, I picked up her phone from the couch.

Just wanted to check something. Not messages. Just basic settings. Something had been bothering me.

I scrolled to “About phone.”

That’s when I saw it.

Device name: Adaeze Obinna.

Obinna.

Not my surname. Not any name I’ve ever heard her mention.

I froze.

Then I opened her Gallery.

Most pictures were recent—us, the house, her outfits.

But I scrolled down. Way down.

And that was when I saw it.

A picture.

Blurry. Old. But clear enough.

Adaeze, standing beside a man.

Not me.

He looked older, darker, taller. Beard. Tribal marks.

She was smiling in the photo. The kind of smile she never gives me.

Behind them, a signboard.

“OBINNA & DAUGHTERS HERBAL CLINIC — EST. 1986.”

I stared at the image like it would talk.

Then I heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

I dropped the phone quickly, sat back, grabbed the remote.

Adaeze walked in, wiping her hand with a towel.

She looked at me.

Then at her phone.

Then back at me.

And smiled—small, but stiff.

“You’ve been busy?”

I forced a smile too. “Just flipping channels.”

She nodded.

But in that moment, we both knew what just happened.

She knew I saw something.

I knew she knew.

And she knew I wasn’t going to stop digging.

Not anymore.

Biko, support this chapter with 300 reactions. That's all I need to release chapter 7. Let's go!!

© Solely written by Akponwei John Michael.

*

06/26/2025

I BECAME IN-TIMATE WITH MY BROTHER WHEN THIS HAPPENED...

5

My dad quickly turned off the light and said, "Who the fu--k is that?" My mom replied, "It's me, honey!" My mom asked, "What are you doing?" He replied, "I am taking my shower!"

"Okay, where is Sandra?" my mom asked.

"I have not seen her," said my dad! "Okay, honey, go and wait for me! I am coming," my mom said, "Okay."

When my mom left, my dad started fu--king me. He fu--ked me until my pu--y hurt me! "Ah, it was hot inside my pu--y!" Dad, it hurts. "Come on, shut up."

"Are you ma--d?? Huh? Come on, open that your pu--y, let me s--uck." "Ah, Dad!" I exclaimed.

We fu--ked until I started ble--eding! I was fainting, but my dad cared not for me; he was still giving me a ha--rd fu--k.

I BECAME IN-TIMATE WITH MY BROTHER WHEN THIS HAPPENED...
HOW MY BROTHER FU--KED ME

6

I was mute because I half conscious. He then grabbed my pu--y close to him and smelled it.

He then noticed that I was almost passed out. He stopped and ejec--ted his black di--k out of my pu--y.

He then rushed and bathed me and took me to my room. Upon reaching there, I was a bit stronger now, so I woke up.

He said to me, "Stu--pid girl, I will fu--k you again; it is not over yet."

"If your mom hears this, you are finished, and you will leave this house for good."

I was mute and crying at the same time. What have I done to deserve this? I questioned myself!!! And weeping, all of a sudden, I heard a crack on my door; it was my bro, Tolu.

Tolu: "Position yourself; fu--king time, I will fu--k you today very, very h--ard."

I cried, then Tolu came close to me and t--ore my clothes and to--re my pa--nts that his father had already t--orn and left.

He then pushed his long finger inside my pu--y! I was screaming...

I am continuing this story on our what's app channel, check the link in comments

06/25/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 5

“Did you touch anything while I was asleep?”

That was the first thing Adaeze said as the sky began to break.

No “Good morning.”
No “Did you sleep well?”

Just that one question. Calm. But sharp. Like a knife wrapped in velvet.

I swallowed. “No.”

She stared at me for a few seconds longer, then turned her back like it was enough.

But it wasn’t.

Because even though I said “no,” the real answer was “yes.” I didn’t touch anything last night… but I had touched the drawer two nights ago. She didn’t ask me then. She was asking me now. As if something had changed.

As if someone had told her.

I went outside that morning with a troubled head. Sat by the small plastic table in the compound, drinking garri and groundnut. I needed to think. Process things. Breathe.

(This story is owned by Akponwei John Michael.)

That was when I noticed the woman.

She was standing at the gate.

Not knocking.

Not speaking.

Just standing there—staring at the house.

She wore a faded wrapper tied loosely around her chest, and her head was bare. Her skin was dark, burnt from years under the sun. But it was her eyes that caught me.

They weren’t just watching.

They were searching.

Like she was trying to see through the wall, into the rooms, into whoever lived here.

I stood up slowly. “Good morning, ma,” I called out.

No answer.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t shift.

Just kept looking straight at the house.

I took a step forward. “Are you looking for someone?”

Still nothing.

I glanced back at the house.

The sitting room curtain moved.

I turned—and saw Adaeze p*eking through it. Just one eye.

The moment she saw the woman, her whole body went stiff.

Then slowly… she dropped the curtain.

And vanished from view.

I went inside.

“Adaeze,” I said, entering the parlour. “Do you know that woman outside?”

She was standing in the middle of the room, hands shaking. Not visibly, but enough for someone watching closely. Me.

“Don’t talk to her,” she said quickly.

“Who is she?”

Adaeze didn’t answer.

She walked to the window again, p*eked, then backed away.

“If she asks you anything,” Adaeze whispered, “just say you don’t know me.”

(This is owned by Akponwei John Michael)

“Excuse me?” I blinked. “You dey hear yourself?”

She turned to me. “I’m serious, Somto. Whatever happens… just say you don’t know me.”

Then she walked past me and locked the bedroom door behind her.

For a moment, I just stood there, stuck between the past two months and what I had just heard.

I went back outside.

The woman was gone.

No sound. No trace.

Not even a footprint.

Just the air… thick, like something had passed through.

And then, my phone buzzed. It was a text.

Unknown Number.

“She’s not who you think she is. And if you love your life, stop asking questions.”

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written by Akponwei John Michael.

06/25/2025

I BECAME IN-TIMATE WITH MY BROTHER WHEN THIS HAPPENED...

4

I met my dad, and he gave me a bad eye look, came close to me, and slapped my a--ss and ki--ssed my br--asts..

*

"Ahh, Dad!" I exclaimed, "Shut up! Do you know how many times I have k--issed and touched this your smelling bott--om when you were young?"

I was mute; sweat shocked my clothes. I was feeling bad, well, I am not surprised! Because his son fu--ks me every day!

My dad came close to me; I was moving backward with fear. "Dad, what is going on?" I asked!

Dad: "Nothing dear, come, let's go and take our bath together. Remember when you were still young, you liked to bathe with me!"

"Dad, I'm big nah! I am no more a child, and I don't want to see your na--kedness again!"

"Shut up!! I say shut up!! It is a must you have to see it! In fact, move to the bathroom. Me that sees yours back then, was I m--ad?"

*

I started crying! When I entered the bathroom, I saw my bro Tolu.

He gave me 20 minutes of do--ggy-style s*x. I was mo--aning and crying; pains around my pu--y!!

And inside my pu--y!! When he heard footsteps, he released me and went out.

Before my dad came in, everywhere was clean. I dressed up and waited for him! In tears...

"Wow, what a standing sweet br--st! Ah wow! Nice ya--sh. I hope your pu--y will be tig--hter than that of your mother."

"Dad, are you for real???" I asked!

"Are you going to have s--ex with your daughter? Your bl--ood!!"

Dad: "Daughter, my foot! I want to fu--k that your pu--y! I just want to test it; I hope it will be good."

"Come on, come here and give me a bic--ycle ride!"

"Dad, it will be painful. So you have done it before, eh eh yah eh."

Come, he dragged me close and gave me a deep k--iss to the extent I could not breathe. I nearly fainted. He then turned me and dragged my pa--nt down.

He then forced his thick bl--ack di--ck in; I was shouting! Then my mom located the door and opened it...

To be continued on the WhatsApp channel: WhatsApp Channel» https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbBFO7M9Bb681Qi83i2p

06/24/2025

MY WIFE LOCKS THE ROOM EVERY TIME WE FINISH MAKING LOVE

CHAPTER 4

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Not because the room was hot. Or because there was noise. But because of what Adaeze said earlier — “If they ever find out I’m married… I don’t know what they’ll do to me.”

Who are “they”?
Why is she acting like she's on the run?

I kept turning from side to side. I’d look at her, then look at the ceiling. She was sleeping peacefully. Back turned to me, like always.

At some point, I dozed off.

Then I woke up around 3:07am — slightly pressed. My bladder wasn’t screaming yet, but I knew if I ignored it, it would wake me harder later.

I got out of bed slowly, not to disturb her, and walked to the bathroom.

The hallway was dark and silent. Even the small fridge in the parlour had stopped humming.

When I came back, something made me pause by the door.

Voices.

Not two.

Just one.

Adaeze’s voice.

I leaned closer.

She was talking in her sleep.

Soft. Muffled. But steady.

I tiptoed in, stood by the edge of the bed, and listened.

She was speaking Igbo.

I froze.

Adaeze never speaks Igbo when we’re alone. Never. She says she’s not fluent. That she understands but struggles to speak. Even when my mum visits, she keeps answering in English.

But tonight, in her sleep, the same woman was speaking it clearly — like someone who’s been speaking it her whole life.

“...Ekwela ha bata... Anyị rụgaghị ihe a ọzọ... Chineke biko, chekwaa m...”

I didn’t understand everything, but the tone was enough. She wasn’t begging — she was pleading. Like someone warning off danger.

I took a slow step closer.

Then I heard her say something that made the hair on my neck stand.

“Somto must not open it… he must not open it… or they will find us faster…”

Open what?

The drawer?

Or something else?

She turned on the bed. Her hand stretched out like she was feeling for something. Then she spoke again.

“Ọ bụrụ na ọ mep*e ya, ọ gaghị agwụ ya mma.”

Even though I didn’t fully understand the words, I knew what they meant.

If he opens it… it won’t end well.

My legs suddenly felt weak.

This was no longer about normal marriage issues. This wasn’t mood swing. This wasn’t shyness. My wife was carrying something. Something I wasn’t part of.

And it was starting to show — slowly.

She mumbled one last thing and went quiet.

I waited.

No more sound.

I backed away from the bed slowly and sat down on the armchair across the room. I didn’t even want to lie down beside her again that night.

Sleep disappeared completely.

I stared at her till morning.

But just before the sky began to break, she turned, opened her eyes slowly, and looked straight at me.

Like she already knew I’d been watching her.

She didn’t smile.

She didn’t speak.

She just stared.

And then she said—calmly, like we were talking about the weather:

“Did you touch anything while I was asleep?”

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© Written by Akponwei John Michael

06/23/2025

I BECAME IN-TIMATE WITH MY BROTHER WHEN THIS HAPPENED...

3

I heard a bang!

On the door (bom!! bom!!) "Sandra, open the door, it's Daddy..."

*

I quickly pushed Tolu, my brother, off my body! My dad was still knocking!!!

My mom joined!

After a while, I overheard my dad say to my mom, "Honey, let me go and bring a spare key!!!"

My bro jumped out my window!!! And landed in our neighbor's garden!

Then I quickly turned on my TV and put on po--rn!

When dad succeeded in coming in, I fa--ked sleep! They called me, and mom slapped me for watching a nonsense movie.

She asked me about my brother Tolu! I replied, "Mom, I don't see him; ask dad! He was with him in the parlor!"

Mom kept mute and left my room! I was amazed; later in the night, my light went off.

I heard my brother's voice in the dark saying, "I was not satisfied! We are fu--king again; where are you?"

I was shaking like a leaf; so many thoughts ran over my mind!

My bro was fu--king me as if I am his wife.

MY BROTHER FU--KED ME

I became a se--x sla--ve for him; well, I enjoyed it too. We fu--k every time and sleep n--aked together as a couple.

I was enjoying it; sometimes, he gives me money to buy painkil--lers after fu--king me. I was enjoying the life I was living.

Three weeks later, after I was done taking my bath, my dad sent Tolu to call me for him, that he wanted to see me!

To my greatest surprise, Tolu didn't touch me. He only gave me a bad eye look.

When I was done dressing up, with shorts and a mini polo.

I met my dad, and he gave me a bad look, came close to me, and slapped my a-- and kissed my br--asts...

TO BE CONTINUED...

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