Fucked Into Believing

“Kay, do you love me, or you love my toto?”

“Kayode, you talk say you love me?” Juliana asked with dovey eyes as they lay flat on his bed. Her breasts rested to the sides, and their eyes locked on each other.

“Yes, Juliana. I love you.”

Kayode affirmed, but something felt off about his assurance. He drifted as he spoke, turning his head away. Juliana noticed, but she chose to believe.

“Kay,” she said, as she fondly called him, “do you love me, or you love my toto?” Juliana asked firmly.

“Ju baby! Don’t say that na. Of course I love you!” Kay said, but the hesitation in his voice was obvious.

“So why don’t you drive your ex away from this house whenever she comes to visit? Why does she still have your spare keys? Why does she linger around, waiting for you to come home to her ugly face?” Juliana asked, her voice brimming with confidence.

Kay inched closer as she spoke, and cupped her face in his palms. He slid his tongue into her mouth, silencing her before she could say another word. Juliana chuckled, forgetting the seriousness she had carried just moments ago.

He fondled her breasts, sucking on her left one vigorously while using his other hand to press her closer.

He kissed her neck, biting a little harder than usual, and she winced in pain laced with intense pleasure.

***

Juliana knew exactly what kind of man Kayode was. He was the type to profess love to her in the morning and stop by Allen Junction at night to pick up a local prostitute. He was the type to ridicule her appearance yet cover her body in drool as he thrust deep during steamy sex. He was the type to introduce her to his friends as just a “friend”, and also introduce his ex girlfriends as “friends” to her. But despite all his flaws, she believed he loved her dearly.

Juliana wasn’t naive. She knew Kayode was unfaithful. She often called his type a filthy womaniser—someone who would either end up miserably alone or die from sexually transmitted diseases. And yet, for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, she loved him. Time and again, she found herself going back to Kayode, even though he broke her heart a little more each time.

One time, she walked in on Kayode, choking and thrusting vigorously into a woman he had introduced to her as his “cousin.”

Juli knew Kay’s sense of loyalty was like rotten, spilled milk—yet she stayed anyway.

***

Juliana was a slender woman with a body that nearly edged on perfection. She looked like a figure drenched in caramel. When the sun shone on her skin, it glistened so brightly it could almost serve as a mirror.

Juli had lived a life of conformity. When her father sent her and her sisters to different homes after their mother’s death, she bent herself to please her relatives. She had no ideals of her own, and she was used to shape-shifting—everything she knew had been inherited.

Life turned cold for Juliana on a disastrous Sunday evening, when her father resumed his violent beatings of her mother. That chilly evening, Juli peered into her mother’s eyes and saw only pain soaked in regret. Her mother used to tell her and her sisters about other suitors who had been ready to marry her, but she had loved their Pa so much that his red flags had seemed to turn orange. It wasn’t until she married him that the gradient finally fizzled out.

That evening, as Juli watched her father beat her mother with frantic fury, she felt a sudden and fierce urge to hurt him—he had tormented them for far too long. She was willing to sacrifice her life for her mother’s happiness and safety. So, with tears streaming down her face, she hurried to the backyard, searching endlessly for a firm plank—until she found one. She marched into the parlour with rage burning through her. She had had enough of her father’s abuse—and she no longer cared what it would cost her. But she knew that she was either going to send him to his grave that night, or leave him in a condition that would never allow him to hurt them again.

Juli summoned all her strength to lift the plank as she stood firmly behind her father. Its weight overpowered her, but she couldn’t care less. Just as she swung the plank, he turned suddenly and dodged—and the plank struck her mother instead, leaving a deep cut on her temple.

Her mother winced in pain as a pool of blood gushed down her torn temple. There was blood everywhere. Blood on Juli’s hands, blood on her mother’s body, and blood on her father’s knuckles from pounding her mother uncontrollably.

Juli staggered back as shock swallowed her whole. She never meant to hit her mother—that was never her aim. But she had, and now her mother was bleeding nonstop. Her mother had given up long before the plank had injured her—that was only the final straw.

Juliana’s mother tried to string words together, but nothing formed. She kept trembling and gasping for air until she couldn’t fight anymore.

Juliana fell to her knees in surrender and shook her mother ferociously. “Ma, wake up! Mummy, wake up! Mummy, wake up!” She shouted repeatedly, but her mother lay there—unmoving.

It was that final call that made her realize how cold her mother had become. She wasn’t breathing, nor was she struggling—she was simply still and silent.

Juliana wailed and screamed with every ounce of energy she had left. She shook her mother again, desperate for a sign, but nothing changed.

For the first time, Juliana prayed her father’s fists would find her—because death felt kinder than a world where her mother no longer lived.

Her father drew her from her thick afro hair and continued the beating he didn’t get to finish off with her mum. It was then Juliana realised just how evil her father was. “He doesn’t deserve to be a father”, she thought so sometimes, but that thought never sunk in until that day. Years later, she would try to convince herself that her father hadn’t realised her mother took her last breath that night—that he must have believed she had only passed out, as usual, and would soon wake again.

***

Juli didn’t only lose her mother that day—she lost every part of herself. She blamed herself for years; she still does. But blame never brought healing. Nothing changed. Not then, not now.

That was the last day Juli ever made a self-conscious decision. The plank had been a symbol of her defiance, and it died with her mother.

So when she learned her father had chosen to send her to live with their most frustrated, brutal, and cruel relative after the funeral, she wasn’t surprised. It was his final way of breaking her—and she understood that all too well.

On the surface, that was why Juli stayed with Kay, even though she knew there might be better out there. Kay wasn’t a vile man, unlike her father.

Juli never believed a ‘good enough’ partner existed—that was for fortune people. Her ideal partner was simply anyone better than her father. So she comforted herself with the belief that Kay was different. He showed her affection, attention, and what felt like love. He worshipped her body and made intense and steamy love to her; his only constant flaw was how often he criticised her dressing.

He had other faults—womanising topping them all—but at least, he never dared to hit her.

On a deeper level, Juliana stayed with Kay because seeking a solution always brought her more pain than relief. She had never really learned what it meant to walk away from situations or people who didn’t serve her. And she had never fully understood what love was.

For a long time, “love” to Juliana had meant purple eye patches, beatings, and concealers hidden under the guise of “my husband’s house.” So when she finally found Kay, a man who didn’t hit her or make her feel like an outsider, she believed that was all she needed. She knew he loved her—he just made foolish mistakes. But at least his mistakes didn’t involve unprovoked beatings.

So, Juliana embraced her relationship with Kay, cherishing it as the closest thing to love she had ever known.