The first time I smelled something foul between my legs, I told myself it was the hotel sheets. Maybe the cheap detergent. Maybe the old mattress.
We ladies know how embarrassing it is to stink down there, it is a must that we keep that part essentially clean.
The second time, I blamed my own body. A weird discharge, maybe from stress. I even googled it at 2 a.m. after sex with my husband, hoping it was just a passing infection.
But where could I get it from?
And the third time? When I stood naked in the shower and my skin started to peel… when the smell stuck to me no matter how hard I scrubbed?
When I saw myself rotting from inside?
When everyone I walked past wrinkled their nose as I passed. To the point I could no longer leave my house and my husband and housekeeper could no longer come home to me? That's when I knew something was seriously wrong.
I was reduced from the Goddess of music, every man's idol, to a stinking dead rat.
The top label owner and billionaire, Fred Orchard's wife was dangerously ill and the whole world was asked to pray for me.
Many said it was my evil.
I was called different names, a witch, a plagiarist, a thief an evil woman. Name it. All because I was wrongly accused and framed.
Fred still touched me a few times before I got worse. He kissed my neck like nothing was off. Slid into me and fucked me crazy while he filled me with his cum again and again.
I thought it was love. I thought it was passion.
What man would love a stinking woman?
He always said I drove him crazy after every section.
But I didn't. I know I didn't.
I was smelling...
I was decaying...
Never once did he love me...
He was rotting me from the inside.
All those infections, the endless UTIs, the burning, the bleeding… that wasn't normal. But he made me think it was. Made me believe it was me, not him.
I used to brag to Mirabelle and Ama about how Fred filled me. Like a good wife trying to make her husband look golden. We tried so many times, but the babies never came. I blamed myself again. My womb. My stress. My schedule.
Turns out, the real disease was the man inside me.
Turns out my husband punished me because on our wedding night, my sister had set me up with another man. Fred had caught me red-handed with reporters all over, I begged and pleaded and he forgave me.
He said it didn't matter if he was not the first person to have me. He said he was fine. But he never forgave me after that day.
I knew he didn't, but I ignored it. I didn't even get to meet the bastard I had done it with that night.
Later, when Fred couldn't get it up anymore, he started calling me names. Said I stank. That I made him sick. Said he was disgusted.
I prayed, cried, fasted, but it was too late. I was dying already.
I still tried every possible treatment known to man. But rather than getting better, I was getting worse.
Soon I was diagnosed with liver and kidney disease because of the multiple untreated UTIs and I... Unfortunately... Died...
"Come, Eve, Fred is this way!" I heard Ama's faint voice and felt a push and immediately, the door closed.
A familiar warmth washed over me with a force that had my back crashing against the door harshly.
"What took you so long?" I heard the same deep rasped voice from my past, the same hot breath that made me shiver.
"Hng." My body reacted to his touch.
His hands moved around me like they knew me. His touch is soft but firm.
Wait! What the hell?
Have I been reborn again?
If I'm not wrong this would be my wedding day. The day my baby sister Ama set me up with a complete stranger who ruined my marriage and life.
This was my chance to change everything, but before I could react, the man lifted me and the next second, my back hit a softer surface this time.
He started ripping my wedding dress off my body. "No... No... No... Wait!" I panicked but he didn't stop. History was repeating.
I thrashed against him, struggling to break free but he was just too strong for me.
"Relax, my butterfly."
Those words slithered into my mind like poison wrapped in silk. My body betrayed me, pleas melting into shameful moans. Darkness claimed me, and when I jolted awake, it was morning.
"No. No, no... fuck!"
I shot out of bed, heart pounding like war drums
This was the same time the reporters had arrived in my past life. They had swooned in like flowing waters capturing every movement.
This time, I got off the bed quickly, knowing I had only thirty seconds till they arrived, I searched for something to wear and my eyes caught the beautiful black dress hanging in a corner.
Perfect. I was an artist and my artist hands worked fast, slipping into the fabric as if I were backstage at a show, changing before the curtain rose. Heels clicked into place. My pulse thundered louder.
I grabbed the scattered clothes, shoving them beneath the bed.
I still felt a little ache as proof of my betrayal, but I didn't let that affect me.
I've been given a second chance at life, this time, I'm here to correct my mistake and make things right.
Just as I threw the clothes beneath the bed, the door flew open with reporters flooding in like rivers, capturing every image of the room like they were cracking a murder case.
They captured every little movement. I tilted my chin, striking a pose, just as I'd been trained. Let them capture me, I'd give them an image they couldn't twist into weakness.
In my past life, they had taken me unaware and that had left so many headlines that ruined my life. People still blamed me for hurting my husband the way I did.
They called me unfaithful and said that I was lucky Fred still chose me.
But in this life...
"Mrs Orchard, how could you sleep in a hotel on the night of your wedding and without your husband?" The first question landed and just as I opened my mouth another came.
"Mrs Orchard, Mr Orchard has been your childhood sweetheart, we know how much you embarrassed yourself online to be married to him, how can you betray him like this?" Another came.