Page 64 of The Marriage Agreement (Agreement)

“Sorry, man. I have a new guy, and he sent this earlier today.”

“Are you sure? You have no idea where she is or where she goes when her phone is turned off?”

“Pretty certain. I checked again.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I hang up and drop my phone on my desk. I fucking need a drink. I down it quickly. My mind is questioning if she would have an affair. Her words play in my head:I won’t have an affair. That would soil your name.I pick up my phone, and her picture with Osei flashes.

I scroll through the pictures Bruce has been sending me per my request. Most of the time, she’s at school and work. A few times, she’s hanging out with Osei, laughing without caring about who’s watching. Have I had moments of jealousy watching how she leans comfortably into Osei whenever they are out together? It boils my blood whenever I receive the ones with her in Osei’s arms. That isn’t as raging as the fact of the information that Bruce just shared: two to three hours on certain days of the week. They have no idea where she is, and Bruce can’t track her. To my annoyance, it occurs to me that only one person is bold enough to have an affair with my wife. That is Osei Appiah, my fucking brother, and he’s clueless. If he thinks I won’t fiercely fight for her, he’s in for a rude awakening. She’s my wife, and that’s final. I look at another picture of them together. He lookslike he’s gazing into her eyes or hanging the fucking moon for her. No way am I going to sit back and let him take her from me. I call Osei; he sends a customized message saying, “Can I call you later?”

I text him:

Me: I’m back. Stop by; I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.

I call Bruce back. I dive right in as soon as he answers.

“Hey, can you tell me what day of the week and what time her phone is usually off?”

I listen as he reads off the days and times. A few coincide with Osei’s off schedule, which only aggravates me more. “Thanks,” I say, hanging up and taking another drink.

I try Dele’s phone again, and again, it goes straight to voicemail.

Osei texts shortly after, letting me know he’ll be here. I tell Paula to direct him to my office once he arrives, and she can leave for the day. I don’t need a witness for when I beat up my brother.

Osei comes in and drops onto the sofa in my office. “Welcome back. Hope your trip made you more millions,” he mocks. He’s clearly not reading the room or the scowl on my face.

“Are you fucking my wife?” I ask him straight, in a steely tone, staring him down as I place a gentle lid on my anger before it explodes and I unleash the bad side of me onto my brother.

“I can’t believe you just asked me that.” He looks at me, shakes his head, sits up straight on the sofa, rubbing his palm on his thigh to keep from clenching. His body shifts to the edge. I know he’s upset by the question, but I don’t care. He should know not to cross the fucking line.

“It’s a fucking yes or no question,” I shout at him, slamming my fist on the table. Again, he’s unmoved, but he turns an angry face to me.

“Like I said, I can’t believe you just asked me that.” His voice deepens. I hear the anger brewing in his tone.

“I taught you that trick of answering a question with a question. You do not want to mess with me.” I slam my fist on the desk. The pound echoes through the room. Our glare at each other is as loud as the pound.

“If you knew your said wife, you wouldn’t be asking me that question,” he retorts. He’s now clenching and unclenching his fist, eyes blazing, nostrils flaring, but he’s no match for me right now.

“Answer the damn question. I’m not in the mood for your nonsense,” I sneer.

“Was there a question? Because last I checked, Dele is your wife on paper only. Why then do you care who she fucks?” he sneers back at me. I rise in anger, and he gets up too. We’re snarling at each other. My desk is between us.

My phone rings; it’s my dad. Now isn’t a good time. My brother and I maintain a stare down. My phone stops ringing.

“Fucking answer me!” I shout. He scoffs at me with a side-eye just as my phone starts ringing again.

I answer my dad’s call. I know he won’t stop calling.

“Yes, Dad?”

“Come and get Dele,” he yells back at me.What did he just say?

“What are you talking about, Dad?” I ask, perplexed.

“Your wife, Dele, has fallen asleep at the foot of my bed. I can’t move her. Come and get her, so she can rest properly and not fall. Susanna isn’t here to help if she falls.”

“I’m on my way,” I say, hanging up. Without a word to my brother, I raced out.

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