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February 21, 2019

Samantha's Chronicles: Time to fight back

Is this the week of humiliations? First, I find myself all over the Internet with the now infamous sex tape. Somehow, the heavens smiled at me and Eric did not see it. But now, because of Frank’s meddling, Eric has caught me red-handed in the ladies’ room with Frank.  He has just walked out. Frank is gone, too, after making some sarcastic comment about whether I still want him. 

I splash my face with water and try to calm down. Think! Think! Think! Crap, there’s no way I can get out of this one. My skirt was around my waist. Frank had his hands all over me. Eric saw it all. Freaking fantastic. What a disaster! 

Okay. So I won’t try and get out of it. Attack is always the best defence. Buoyed with new resolve, I retouch my lipstick, straighten my hair and walk out of the ladies’. Frank is sitting on his bar stool, wearing a smirk as I walk past him. Bastard. I don’t say anything to him. I turn the corner and I’m surprised to see that Eric is still there with a glass of champagne in his hand. 

I approach cautiously, not quite sure where this is heading. I hesitate when I reach the table. 

“Can I sit?” I ask. 

“Of course,” he responds, taking a sip from his drink. 

“Well, that was embarrassing!” I say. 

”Was it? I found it quite amusing,” he responds. 

“You’re not upset?” I ask, surprised by his reaction. 

“I never said that,” he says carefully, placing his glass on the table. 

“Look, Eric,” I say, kicking off my offensive. “It’s not like we are in a relationship yet…” 

“True. But this is a date, is it not?” he asks. “One expects some decorum, no?”

“No! I bumped into you in the mall and you offered to buy lunch!” I say.  

“So this is just two friends hanging out?” he asks. 

“Eric,” I say, softening my voice. “I like you. You know I do. But you’re getting out of a relationship. So am I.” 

“You two dated?” he asks.

“We were engaged,” I say. 

I remember when I found out through sneaky means about how Eric’s girlfriend terminated a pregnancy. He was devastated. That will be my angle now. 

“The truth is that I’m pregnant,” I say. 

My words are sincere. Well, clearly that’s the only truthful thing that ever comes out of my mouth these days.  

“Frank wanted me to terminate but I don’t believe in abortions,” I say. 

Eric looks stricken. I knew this would affect him because of his own personal situation with his girlfriend. Eric came to my home one morning loaded on cheap wine and whiskey. I made him breakfast and he proceeded to pass out. Some girl called – his girlfriend – and I answered the phone. We talked briefly. She sounded quite hurt that I was in the picture. I wanted to make sure she never called again. As he snored softly beside me, I quickly sent her a text message using his phone. 

Me: I heard you called. That’s my new girl you spoke to. I don’t need to answer questions about us, so I’d appreciate if you respected my wishes and new relationship. Stop calling and texting. It’s over. 

Her: Wow. A text message? Seriously? After five years that’s all I get? You can’t even be man enough to talk it out?

Me: Stop being pathetic and move on as I have. 

Her: Did you think I was pathetic when you begged me to keep your baby? 

Wow. This is when I realised that this was Eric’s almost-baby momma. 

Her: You cold-hearted bastard. We are totally through. I’m sorry that I ever met you. And I’m so glad that I terminated that pregnancy. Rot in hell. 





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