Love Hates…
AARON ANSAH-AGYEMAN
LOVE HATES
A CHRISEFFE BLISS
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The Author
EPISODE 18
Chris shifted a bit in his seat and looked out of the window briefly, and then he turned and fixed sad eyes on Effe’s beautiful face.
“It means what it means, Effe,” he said softly. “You and I don’t exactly move in the same circles anymore. You have a man you love, right?”
Effe sighed, and for a moment bit her lower lip.
Of course, she understood him.
Once they had cleared the bitterness which had sizzled between them for almost a decade, there was nothing else to say, or do, for that matter…unless he wanted her help to get back what Baaba and Jonathan had stolen from him so cruelly.
But, evidently, Chris was not interested in that aspect, at least not for now. Thus, to all intents and purposes, she could walk out of his life and probably never see him again. They could close the chapter between them right here. She could get down at Gabes and take a chartered cab to Tunis, and that would be it.
It would be a return to Ghana, to her family and to the man she was going to marry, everything in its proper place and context. A comfortable, orderly existence of peace and harmony. Yes, indeed, a circle different from the circle of Chris Bawa.
In eight years, he had passed through strife and lived life on the edge of violence and had become a part of the chaotic maelstrom around him. He was now living in a world alien to her, a world where death and violence were buddies, a world where danger was a constant shadow.
This Chris was now a hardened man living on the crest of the highest waves, the brink of the deepest abyss, a constant edifice of the chaos, a bad man with no heart. Once, a long time ago, his eyes had held a different kind of message, a message of adoration and worship when he beheld her.
But that was gone.
His eyes only held a devil’s gaze now.
He was a threat to her, she knew. Even when she had been deceiving him in the belief that she was helping a friend, she had been aware of his magnetic charm and the danger he posed to her heart. He had been a beast, but she had increasingly found it difficult separating her feelings and knowing what was pretence and what was emotional ache as her time spent with him had grown.
Chris was not a man any woman could resist if his charm was turned on her, and Effe had experienced that enigmatic presence.
And his kisses!
Kissing Steve was always comfortable and sweet…absolutely normal.
But with Chris, like what had happened a few minutes ago…she had indeed felt the agonizing fire, the unbridled urge to take off her clothes and spend the rest of her life making love to him. His passion was always alive, a fierce infectious catalyst that invoked the basic sexual response from her.
It was not lust, but something much more consuming, a raging fire that had always been well nigh impossible to quench.
That had been the passion of Chris Bawa, and yes, in a way, he had succeeded in touching something deep down within her soul.
And she had been sickened to see him making love to Fatima and obviously with Shayma too, but she had received his scorching kisses, and enjoyed the breath-taking moment they had just shared!
Was that not in itself also a strong argument of unfaithfulness?
He was married, and she was betrothed…well, in a way. And yet, she had given in to that wanton and reckless kiss that had seared her to the very end of all her nerves.
If it had been someone else, anyone other than herself, wouldn’t she had been chagrined because he was towing the lines of evident unfaithfulness? Why then was it okay to kiss him that tenderly and passionately?
Where was judgement blurred and reality set in?
Yes, he was right, very right, in saying that solving their differences should end it all, but why was she feeling this uneasy? Why was she feeling thirsty and hungry for more? What was she looking for? A form of friendship? Of course, that would never be possible, not with a man like Chris Bawa whose mere touch lighted every nerve end in her body!
So, what was she looking for?
He was a married man, and nothing could ever come out of any silly fancies she might unknowingly be harbouring in her heart.
“I asked you a question,” his deep voice broke into her reveries, and she turned her attention to him suddenly.
“Oh, sorry,” she said in a rush, obviously flustered. “What was it again?”
“You having a man,” he said. “I believe you told me that you do have someone in your life, so you just wanted to tell me the truth as you know it, and nothing else.”
“Yes, Chris, I do have someone,” she said quickly. “Steve Hollison, a surgeon, with his own practice.”
He turned his attention to the road.
“That is nice,” he said at length. “So, let it end there. Get off, go to Tunis, get a flight home. Live your life.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, Chris,” she said fiercely, surprising them both with her passion. “I believe I have a sensible little head between my shoulders, and I can make decisions myself.”
He fixed her with his cold eyes.
“What else do you want, Effe?”
She licked her lips again and felt breathless suddenly.
“You told me I’m responsible for…the things you were doing, Chris,” she said softly. “I’ll be blunt with you. I’m not happy about your life of decadence one bit. To know that I helped to destroy the focus of a good man, and reduced his buoyant life to the peripherals of alcohol, nicotine and wanton sex is a heavy burden on my shoulders. It is really goring my ox, to say the least.”
She saw his jaw tightening, and for a moment she was assailed by a sudden fear that he was going to turn nasty again.
He spoke without looking at her.
“Define decadence, Effe,” he said softly, and his voice was not filled with the acrimony she had feared. “I don’t live my life to satisfy the norms of society. I live my life my way, on my own principles, and on my own choices.”
“You drink and smoke now, Chris,” she said quickly, her voice filled with concern. “Eight years ago, you were not like that. And, worst of all, you’re unfaithful to your wife. Within two days, you’ve slept with two different women! You told me bluntly that you’ve never been faithful to your wife! And you blamed it on what happened between us eight years ago. It makes me feel guilty and extremely pained.”
He drove along for a while, and then he looked briefly at her.
“So, in other words, you feel responsible for my way of life now, right?” he asked softly. “In a way, you now need a clear conscience about me to move on with your life. Is that what all this is about?”
“Yes, Chris,” Effe replied, and her voice was a little bit unsteady. “I messed up your life, and even though I did it unknowingly and with the notion that I was helping a friend in a life or death situation, that is no excuse. My sister testified against you for a crime you did not commit, obviously.
You lost the company, your father’s legacy, and I feel responsible for that too. Yes, I would love it if we part in peace, knowing that my conscience is clear. If I can help you get back your inheritance, I’ll gladly do it. If I can help unknot the kinks in your life, it will give me a clean conscience to move on, Chris.”
He nodded once.
“Well, then let me help you clear your conscience, Effe,” he said calmly. “First, when I blamed you for being responsible for what I am, what do you term it – my life of decadence – I didn’t mean it. I only wanted to hurt you and make you feel bad because, in a way, I was still hurt by your betrayal.
But I will never blame anybody for my behaviour in any way, whether by association or direct implication. I’m ultimately responsible for my actions and life choices, so forget about that. I never meant it. You’re not responsible for what I am today. I made a choice, and I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Effe looked at him intently, trying to find a weak link in his statement, to find a note that might suggest he was just trying to assuage her guilt, but she knew he was being brutally honest with her.
“So, you don’t blame me for your behaviour?” she asked, again surprised at how unsteady her voice was.
“No, I don’t,” he said calmly. “And whatever you’ve seen has been a carefully orchestrated act. I don’t drink and smoke, Effe, at least not in the way you think I do. I never drink when I’m alone. You see me drinking heavily and smoking hard simply because that is the impression I want to create.”
“Why, Chris?” she cried suddenly, alarmed. “Are you so lonely that you need to pretend to be something you’re not?”
“Far from that, Effe,” he replied carefully. “Listen, I’m going to tell you something not many people know. I’m doing it because I want you to have your clear conscience. Do you understand? Under no circumstance whatsoever, are you allowed to tell anyone else what I’m about to say.”
Effe nodded, not trusting her voice.
She did not know why she was suddenly feeling so scared.
“What is it, Chris?”
“My father loved diving and fishing,” he said softly. “I loved that man to death, you know. He had a boat, and used to take me out to sea often, and those are some of my fondest memories of him. Well, many years ago, there was the story of a Russian boat that sank in Ghanaian seas, belonging to a famous Russian virologist.”
“Virologist?” Effe asked with a little frown. “He played with viruses?”
A tiny smile played around Chris’ lips for a brief moment.
“Yes, he was a microbiologist, an expert in the study of duplicating micro-organisms that caused rapid spreading of viruses. Virologists, I was told, try to study viruses, how to control them and how to develop vaccines for the horrible deceases caused by viruses. Well, this Russian I am talking about was called Tolenka Sokolov, and he was very talented.
He was in Ghana developing a vaccine for AIDS, and in the process, he is rumoured to have developed a very deadly strain of virus called the White Ash. That virus is said to be so deadly that just two drops released into the air can kill millions of people. Spray a blast of that virus into the air and everybody on the African continent will be dead in a week.”
“Good Lord!” Effe whispered, aghast, her eyes wide with terror. “You’re not…lying to me?”
“I’m dead serious, Effe,” Chris continued earnestly. “Apparently, when Doctor Sokolov’s boat sank, my father was in his boat around the vicinity and went to help. You see, there was a single ampoule of the first White Ash and its antidote, together with the research notes, clips and documentation on that boat. My Pops is believed to have taken the complete package, and hidden it somewhere before his untimely death.”
Effe stared at him with horrified eyes.
“And nobody knows where this deadly…virus is?” Effe asked, barely able to breathe.
“No one knows where Pops hid it,” Chris said calmly. “I was actually sentenced to fifteen years after I was framed for the assault and rape of Baaba, as you know already. But, when I went to jail, top brass personnel from the American Secret Service, the Russian KGB and the Ghanaian BNI came to see me.
They were all certain my father hid the weapon somewhere near me, that I was the clue to the whereabouts of the White Ash. I didn’t have any clue, but they said they found my father’s cigar case inside my father’s car, and inside that cigar case were just two words: White Ash equals Chris.
Thus, when all these powerful people came to see me in prison, they proposed that they would reduce my jail term and let me come out of prison if I would allow one of their agents to get close to me and try and find clues to where my Pops might have hidden the deadly virus.”
“Allow one of their agents to get close to you?” Effe asked softly. “How?”
“The name of the agent they chose to get close to me is Elaine Boateng,” Chris said softly.
Effe gasped audibly.
“Elaine Boateng?” she whispered. “Elaine? Your wife is Elaine, isn’t she? Is she the one we’re talking about here?”
“She is,” Chris said. “And she is an agent of the American Secret Service. We had to make everything seem natural because it seemed other dangerous people were – and still are – after the White Ash. They want to possess it and use it to threaten the whole world with it. If the White Ash falls into the wrong hands, like the hands of terrorists, it could mean the end of the world.
And so, to put them off and let the agent work closely and secretly with me, they let Elaine come to the prison pretending to be a prison official who had been transferred to the prison. She used to chat me a lot in prison giving the illusion that we were falling in love.
Well, after a year of knowing each other in prison, I was released based on the pretence that I had been of very good behaviour.”
“And you married this American agent, Elaine Boateng, as part of the plan?” Effe whispered hoarsely.
“Yes,” Chris said. “We had a flamboyant wedding almost two years ago just to allow her into my house as my wife, and let us fathom out where my father could have hidden the deadly weapon. The fear is that if that weapon so much as leaks a trifle due to improper storage, it could kill every living person in this country, possibly obliterate the entire continent. So, yes, I’m obviously married, but it is just a sham. As soon as we find the White Ash, the marriage between Elaine and I will come to an end.”
Effe stared at Chris, and then she exhaled with sudden misery.
“So, your marriage is one of convenience,” she said, appalled at the strange glow of relief that fluttered in her chest. “But you two make love, don’t you, you and this…agent?”
He looked at her sharply.
“Is that important?” he asked quietly. “Elaine is a professional who never mixes business with pleasure. She is dead serious with her work and has refused to tell me anything personal about her. She leaves the country occasionally to brief her bosses, and I suppose she might have a lover in the States, but she tells me nothing.
That was okay with me because our relationship has been one of deep friendship. However, about a month ago, before I came to Libya, she told me her agency had intel that some clandestine people were watching secretly, and so she moved into my room to convince people that we’re a legit couple.”
“You had separate rooms?” Effe asked.
“Yes,” he said quickly. “Two bedrooms with an inter-joining door, but now she has moved into mine. She never really took an interest in my movements, but recently she’s been asking me more personal questions, you know, about my girlfriends and friends. The dawn before I left home, before I came to Libya, she made love to me. It was our first time.”
Effe looked away sharply, once again shocked at the sliver of pain that flitted through her heart. She looked out of the window so that he would not see her troubled expression.
What the hell was wrong with her anyway?
Chris was one hell of a man, more than a man, and it was surprising that this agent had been able to stay with him this long and remained unaffected. It was true their marriage was a sham, a ‘putting-up-appearances’ sort of thing, but that did not mean they could not begin to feel something deeper once they were living under the same roof.
Obviously, that was exactly what this Elaine was feeling. After living with Chris for close to five years, she was no doubt now taken in with him, affected by his amazing charisma, and naturally she could not stay on her professional pedestal for an eternity, and had fallen in love with him.
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Quite a natural phenomenon, certainly.
Why then had she been delighted that Chris was a free man, and troubled that he had begun intimate relations with this American? It should be of no importance to her! After all, she also had a loving, gentle man in her life. Life should indeed go on.
So where was the inner unease coming from? Why did she feel this faint sense of doom, this sheer feeling of helplessness and hidden pain assailing her?
He was right, of course.
She had to end it now and move on before she let her heart speak to and convince her mind.
“So, I just put on the appearance of a drunk chain-smoker, because everywhere I go, eyes are on me. People watching me and monitoring my actions.
The government agencies I’m working with want me to put on the appearance of a drinking, smoking, carefree man who is not even remotely interested in the virus, the White Ash, as anything contrary could mean a danger to me, and to Elaine,” he said.
“Hope your conscience is clear now, Effe. I’m a free man, and I choose to sleep with who I want to. You can now get down at Gabes and go home with a clear conscience.”
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[/passster]Premium Story: A ChrisEffe Bliss :: LOVE HATES :: EPISODE 17
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