Months passed and Ivan’s tricks grew bolder and more outrageous, as Aliyah grew more and more convinced she was losing her mind. ILLUSTRATION | JOHN NYAGA
It started slowly, a resentment that built up slowly over time until it was an invisible festering wound that consumed Ivan as he watched his wife, Aliyah, achieve every goal she set, picking up various accolades along the way.
She was incredible; that’s what everyone said, that’s what he used to say. Ivan wasn’t sure when it had happened, only that one day she came waltzing through the door, laptop bag and handbag slung over one arm, a brown bag emblazoned with the name of their favourite restaurant bearing a take-out dinner clutched in the other, a big smile on her face, announcing to him that she’d made partner in her law firm; and he knew that he hated her. That night he made up his mind to get rid of her. But he wasn’t a murderer, so he’d have to be cunning. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, he had plenty of cunning.
