It was early morning. There was no sun yet, the weather was a bit cloudy, and the room was chilled from the AC. The couple lay tangled in each other's arms, warm under the duvet they had shared during the cold night. A sudden knock at the front door jolted them awake.
"Who is that this early in the morning?" Purple asked groggily, rubbing her eyes.
"Sweetie, don't worry, I'll check it,"
Abiola replied, throwing the duvet off himself. He slipped his feet into his slippers and headed out, yawning as he walked toward the door.
Purple watched him leave, her brows already furrowing. Something didn't feel right. With a small hiss, she swung her legs off the bed, put on her home slippers, and followed him.
As she reached the living room, her stomach dropped. There, standing boldly in the doorway, was her mother-in-law, Mama Abiola, firm as ever in her head tie and wrapper. She is based in Lagos city but still dresses like someone who lives far away in the eastern village.
Beside her stood a woman in a flowing white garment, her head covered in a matching white scarf. The stranger's face was stern, her eyes sharp and scanning.
"Oh God, not today," Purple muttered under her breath.
Mama Abiola turned toward her sharply.
"So, she cannot even greet?" she said loudly to her son.
Purple, startled by the tone, quickly forced a smile.
"Oh, sorry, Mama. I thought you were still talking with your son. Good morning, ma."
Mama Abiola scoffed.
"Please, hold your greetings. What's good about the morning? Come here, stand in the center!"
"Mama, why?" Purple asked, confused.
"Don't you dare ask me silly questions, young girl!" Mama snapped.
"Are you so blind you cannot see the woman of God from Zion standing beside me? She is here for your deliverance!"
"Deliverance?" Purple voiced out, turning toward Abiola for help. But the moment her eyes met his, she sighed. There he was, silent, uncertain, a mummy's boy through and through.
"Yes, deliverance!" Mama Abiola declared, her voice rising.
"Because it is obvious that you have eaten up all the children in your womb. Otherwise, why would a young woman like you still be childless after one year of marriage? I cannot sit and watch you waste all of my son's sperm!"
Before Purple could react, the prophetess suddenly broke into loud tongues, her voice rising above everyone's.
She spoke in tongues that only she and her God can understand. She stepped forward and grabbed Purple roughly by the arm.
"You are in the presence of Yahweh. Kneel!" the prophetess commanded.
Stunned, Purple knelt in the center of the living room, eyes darting between her husband, his mother, and the prophetess. She hoped for a sign from Abiola, any sign of protest, but he had joined the prayer.
His lips were moving, eyes closed. She hissed quietly and shut her eyes, feeling her mother-in-law's gaze burn into her.
The prophetess continued her frenzied prayer, speaking in unknown tongues while Mama Abiola shouted alongside her, commanding every "spirit of barrenness" to leave her daughter-in-law's body.
At first, Purple felt numb. It all felt like a film, like those she watches in the cinema, until she felt a sharp sting across her back. Her eyes flew open.
The prophetess had taken out a broom and was flogging her, striking her delicate skin again and again.
"Leave her, spiritual husband! Out! Out!" the prophetess screamed.
"Mama! Abiola!" Purple cried out, wincing as the blows continued.
She tried to endure it, but the pain was unbearable. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she jumped up, shoved past the woman, and ran straight into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it quickly.
She leaned against the door, panting and crying. Her body ached from the flogging, but her heart hurt even more. The betrayal by her husband, humiliation from her mother-in-law, and the silence of the man she calls her husband. She sank to the floor and let the tears flow freely.
So many thoughts raced through her mind. She had fought hard to marry Abiola, but she was only successful after pulling a trick of being pregnant for him.
With that alone, Mama Abiola approved the marriage as she needs a grandchild. One month into the marriage, she knew she had to play fast unless they caught her, and that would be the worst for her.
Just then, she had faked a miscarriage, and it all died down like that. Right now, would she give it all up and return to her father's house? No. She can never.
Star, her stepsister, was doing well in her own husband's home abroad, respected, admired, and already pregnant with her second child. Purple had to prove herself. She had to be stronger. She couldn't let anyone, not even Mama Abiola, chase her away from her marriage.
Her phone lay on the nightstand. She stared at it for a long moment.
"Should I call Daddy?" she thought.
"He would never take this. He'd storm here and arrest Abiola and her son. But Mama wouldn't let it slide. She loves her son to a fault, almost to madness. No. That would be the end of my marriage, something she was still desperately trying to avoid."
As the sobs shook her chest, she whispered to herself:
"I just wanted to be loved. To be safe. Not flogged in the name of deliverance…"
Purple stayed curled up by the door, the cool tiles soothing her bruised skin. The noise outside had stopped, no more tongues, and no more shouting. Only silence, thick and heavy, cloaked the house, so she could tell that the prophetess has left.
Her breath hitched as she slowly sat up, brushing her hair from her tear-streaked face.
Then came the knock, soft but, measured.
"Purple… it's me," Abiola's voice called gently from behind the door.
"Please open the door."
She clenched her jaw. That voice, so calm, so careful, made her feel even more enraged. He was this calm when she was being whipped like a thief in his presence?
"I said open the door," he repeated, firmer this time.
Purple stood and wiped her eyes. Her voice was hoarse but steady, as she took some steps backwards and unlocked the door
"Go back to your mother and her prophetess. I'm not in the mood for fake concern."
"Purple, I didn't know she was coming. I swear. She just showed up."
"Oh, and you couldn't say no? You couldn't say, 'Mama, leave my wife alone'? Is that too hard for you?"
He was quite looking at her.
Then a tired sigh from the other side.
"I'm sorry."
Her heart ached again. Sorry? Was that it? Sorry for letting them humiliate her? Sorry for watching her cry in pain?
"You know what, Abiola?" she said softly, walking to the bed and removing her pyjamas top, letting her rounded busty breasts free. She dropped the cloth on the bed, walked to the closet and said to him.
"If I walk out of this house, I'll never come back."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, I deserve more. I deserve love, protection, and respect. Not spiritual assault."
She heard a slight scuffle, like he had leaned into the door. He was quite, watching her.
Purple looked at him, shock her head and laughed bitterly.
She threw in a few clothes, picked her ATM card, and reached for her bag. As she unzipped the bag, her phone vibrated on the nightstand.
It was a message.
From Star.
"Hey sis, just checking in. I had a weird dream about you last night. Everything okay?"
Purple stared at the message for a long while. Then slowly, something in her hardened. Just those few words, so simple and sincere, yet they held her frozen.
She didn't reply. Instead, she dropped the phone gently, looked around the room, the few scattered clothes on the bed, the unzipped bag resting down beside the closet, and the man she called her husband watching her, from the exist. Abiola heard her mum call him and slowly left, leaving her all alone once again.
She hissed as her eyes settled on the framed wedding picture on the shelf, the one where he had forced a smile while she held him like a trophy.
'Mockery.' That's what people would call her if she left. Her enemies would celebrate. Star's perfect life would shine even brighter while hers crumbled.
With a frustrated sigh again, she walked to the closet and dropped the bag back, she began folding each piece of clothes slowly like someone burying her emotions one layer at a time.
From the living room, there was laughter, but not from her husband. Mama Abiola was chuckling, bragging about how the prophetess had "seen it in the spirit" that a python was tied around Purple's womb.
Purple clenched her fists, this marriage is becoming too hot for her, but leaving is not in the picture.
********************************************
Thank you so much for reading this chapter of Betrayed by My Stepsister, Saved by Love.
Purple may look like she's breaking… but sometimes, you have to pretend to leave just to find out who's really willing to fight for you.
The war for her marriage has only just begun, and trust me, the next chapter will be even more intense, as secrets will unfold, loyalties will be tested, and no one is truly innocent.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a comment, power stone, or review, it means the world to me and keeps this story going!
Until next time… keep your heart guarded and your popcorn ready
With love,
Star Amarachi