I had to be smarter, but at the same time, I remain the humble housemaid. I could not afford to make mistakes. Every move had to be calculated.
Meanwhile, my heart was misbehaving. I was slowly falling for Lailam, and he was already head over heels in love with me. The problem? He was my madam's boyfriend. Her second option whenever my runaway husband was not around.
Since she always needed a man to keep her company at night, she kept Lailam Jones, the manager of M.J's company, as the man for the job. Officially, he was "manager." Unofficially, i knew the rest.
One night, she sat comfortably in the living room watching a movie. I was not far from her, busy cleaning and pretending not to hear anything. Suddenly, she picked up her phone and made a call. The moment he answered, without even greeting, she ordered,
"I need to see you right now."
I had a strong feeling someone had gossiped to her that I was getting too close to her boyfriend. And I was sure it was that gateman with coconut head. My spirit told me trouble was loading.
Sure enough, Lailam responded quickly, "I am on my way, Madam."
In less than thirty minutes, he walked in. Madam did not waste time.
"That is why I employed you as the manager of this company," she said boldly. "Not because you are the best person to manage it, but because you know how to manage the bedroom. You are good at it."
I felt my heart drop. Before I could even process her words, she pulled him straight into her room and shut the door.
I did not need to see anything. My imagination was enough punishment.
That was why my feelings for him were always skeptical. How could a man walk out of my Madam's bedroom and still look me in the eye, confessing how much he loved me? It did not make any sense.
But I had to play along. Not only because I liked him, but because I needed everyone's trust. I needed access. I needed information. I still had not figured out why my runaway husband's picture was hanging boldly on the wall like some respected hero.
Each day, I was walking deeper into hardship and slowly getting used to it. I had lost so much weight that my body looked like dry fish in the market. Even if my runaway husband stood in front of me, he might not recognize me easily. Sometimes when I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized that weak girl staring back.
Then one afternoon, Madam left the house for an errand. I overheard her telling someone on the phone that the owner of the house, the business, and the cars would be visiting the country for a while. My heart skipped. I was sure she was talking about my husband.
She stayed out longer than usual, saying she needed to arrange some things for his arrival over the weekend. That same day, I was not feeling fine. Malaria had dealt with me seriously. My body was hot, my head was spinning, but Madam did not care. She ordered me to complete all my chores before resting.
That was when Lailam walked in and found me struggling to scrub the floor. Sweat was pouring down my face, and my hands were shaking.
Maybe he noticed I was still angry with him. Maybe he saw the pain in my eyes. Without saying much, he removed his jacket and started helping me with the chores since Madam was not around.
He washed plates. He cleaned the kitchen. He even finished scrubbing the floor.
That was when he finally got the chance to talk.
"I am so sorry," he began softly. "I truly love you. But in order to keep my job, I have to keep Madam happy. I don't have feelings for her, but I need the job."
I looked at him with my weak eyes. "So you are saying you don't have a choice?"
He sighed deeply.
"After graduating from a professional school with a master's degree in Business Management and Accounting, I searched for a job for seven years. Seven good years. Nothing. I became a commercial bike rider just to survive. One day, her car broke down and I carried her to her office. I told her my qualifications because I remembered I once submitted my documents to her company."
"Seriously?" I asked weakly, surprised.
"That day she did not recognize me," he continued. "But she told me to come to her office the next day. I dressed properly and went. That was when she looked at me differently. She told me she liked me, and if I wanted the job, I had to be her 'special friend.' If not, no job."
"So you accepted?"
He nodded slowly. "I had no one to help me. I was tired of suffering. So I agreed. And that is how everything started."
I was still trying to digest his story when I felt a strange movement behind the curtain. Like someone had just shifted quietly.
I did not know there was a spy in the house.
The next day, when Madam returned, there was a very serious trouble in the mansion.