I met her in November thereabout. She was with a friend. I liked her the very moment I set my eyes on her. I wanted to be friends with her so I asked permission from the friend she came with; “She’s pretty. I want to be her friend.” She told me, “Tell her. You might be surprised what she would say.”

Her name was Efua. I approached her and asked a few questions. She answered them with a broad smile on her face. I asked if we could be friends and she answered, “Sure, why not?” We spent a few hours together, exchanged contacts and said goodbye. When she got home, she texted. When a lady you met a few hours ago texts immediately, it means she takes you seriously. We exchanged a couple of messages and said sweet dreams.

A couple of weeks into the friendship, I proposed. “Efua, I want more than friendship, I have to be honest. I don’t mind if it doesn’t happen today. I can wait.”

Maybe she didn’t see it coming or she did but didn’t anticipate I was going to propose this soon. She told me, “I have to be very honest with you. I have someone in my life. We’ve done two years already. He’s committed I must admit. Things go bad in life but I don’t anticipate what we have to go bad. If it wasn’t for him, I would have said yes because you’re a cool guy.”

She let me down but did it slowly. Respectfully. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t come with a bang. I told her, respectfully; “Good to know you’re in a good thing. A woman like you deserves a man who is committed. I pray it ends well.”

I didn’t get her but it didn’t change anything. She called and texted often and I did the same too but friendship without goals is hard to survive. The goal initially was to make her mine. It didn’t work out so we had nothing else to hope for. When we talked, the conversations were empty. They were so hollow you could hear echoes.

On the 13th February, she called me. She was excited about something I didn’t know. She was laughing a lot and promising so much. “How are you going to celebrate the Valentine?” She asked me. I told her I would be alone. She responded, “We don’t have to be alone. We can go on a date. I’m paying. You’ll get me something and I will also get you something, deal?”

I hesitated.

“OK, it’s a deal but may I know what’s happening? What’s new?”

She didn’t answer.

I got to the place we were meeting to see her already seated. She looked pretty, welcoming and suspicious. When I sat down, she threw me the menu. She was all smiles, not looking like a lady who had lost a two-year relationship. I asked what was going on. She told me not to spoil the night because she was in a very good mood. I concluded in my head, “Great! They are no longer together.”

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The date lasted for over two hours. Getting to the end of the date she asked me, “What next?” I answered, “I don’t know unless you tell me.” She asked, “Will you take me home?”

The night had lacked romance or everything that felt like love until she asked that question. I was dumbfounded. “Home? Yours or mine?” “Yours, mine, whichever you think it’s appropriate.” She answered.

I took her home. Mine. Everything was moving too fast I started feeling uneasy. She hadn’t told me about her committed boyfriend or what had happened since the last time we talked about him. I tried twice to bring it up, twice she kicked the question off the table. I asked, “You don’t have a spare dress. You’ll go to work tomorrow morning. How are you going to manage?” Again, she was dismissive.

She entered the bath and left her phone on the table. The screen lit up. A call from a guy called Alfred with a heart-in-eyes emoji. When the call ended, I saw 21 missed calls on her phone. Her phone was on silent. That meant the guy had been calling. I got suspicious. When she came out of the bath I told her about the calls. She looked at it and chuckled. I asked, “What’s the issue?” She answered, “Never mind.” But I couldn’t pretend I didn’t mind. The call kept coming and coming until I begged her to pick it up. She did…

“What do you want? Stop calling my phone.”

“I’m not telling you anything. I don’t know where I am.”

“Why do you care? Do you think I’m your baby that you can push around?

Every sentence she made was confrontational. When she hung up the call, I asked what the issue was about. Again, she answered, “Never mind.” I responded, “Let me take you home. Yours. Obviously, this night can’t be good.”

It was around midnight. We stopped a taxi and off she went. Several minutes later, she texted, “Hello.” I texted back but she didn’t respond so I called. A guy picked up the phone. He screamed, “You’re calling to see she’s home, right? What did you do to her? Where did you take her to? Did she tell you she had a fiancé? Wherever you are, I will find you…he dropped the call. All the while he was barking, Efua was laughing in the background.

I got the message. She used me to fight a psychological battle. To make her boyfriend jealous or to make him think there’s another man in the shadow. Before I slept, she texted. She said, “Sorry for everything. I’ll explain later but if you felt led on, it’s my fault. Please forgive me.”

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I don’t think we’ll ever talk again. It’s dangerous the way she treated me. Emotionally, I was suspicious so I didn’t go all in but what if the guy attacked physically? Whatever we had ended at the tail end of her boyfriend’s bark. I can’t call her a friend if she could treat me this way.

—Hab

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