I tightened my grip on him. My lawyer grabbed me from behind, trying to yank me away from his learned friend.
But, my grip on Prof. Laryea was so tight that my lawyer’s effort was in vain.
“Stop! You are killing me!” Prof. Laryea managed to scream out. I was so much red hot with anger that it did not dawn on me I was choking him.
“Paul! Stop it! You’ll kill the man!” I heard my lawyer scream. It was only then that I realized I was on the verge of committing murder. I quickly let go off the lawyer who immediately sunk to his knees, clutching at his neck and coughing.
I turned my attention towards to my wife. She was visibly shaken by my anger; she obviously had never seen me in that state of anger in all the twelve years we had been married. I took a step towards her and asked what she meant in claiming my two children, Peter and Pamela, were not my biological children. His brother, Nana Kweku, immediately stepped in front of me, blocking my path to his sister, my wife. Before he knew what was happening, I had taken hold of him by his shirt and hurled him across the room.
He landed on the ground. I turned my attention to my wife only to realize she was not there. I caught sight of her escaping through the door. She had kicked off her shoes to ensure she could run as fast as she could.
I immediately dashed to the door. When I got there, she had reached the bottom of the stairs, about to step out of the building. I went down the stairs three at a time, got to the bottom, opened the door and rushed out only to collide with the security man on duty.
“Hey! What is wrong with you?” he asked, grabbing me. I hit his hands away and ran pass him before he could stop me. My wife was already getting into her car. I recognized immediately it was too late to get her so I dashed to my car parked nearby. By the time I got in, she was far away. Nevertheless, I went after her.
My car surged forward as I stepped on the accelerator, speeding down the road. I was on time to see her about a hundred metres away, turning left at a junction. I stepped harder on the accelerator. The next five minutes saw my wife and me in a car chase, with me in hot pursuit.
Read: Letter To My Ex.
We both jumped traffic lights and sped over zebra crossings. I barely avoided knocking down two market women at a zebra crossing. I saw them in my rearview mirror, screaming obscenities after me as I sped away.
Far ahead, I saw my wife also miss colliding with another vehicle. Finally, she headed for the central market square. By this time, I was only about forty metres behind her. My thoughts were all filled with the beating I would subject her to when I finally catch up with her.
I had never touched her. I had never even contemplated or attempted beating her because I loved her so much. Further, I distasted people who beat women. However, on this day, I was ready to do my worse to her for telling me I was not the biological father of my children.
Read: Reasons To Be In Love
She brought her car to a screeching halt at the car park in front of the market, got out and flee into the market as I brought my car to a screeching halt beside hers. But I knew having dashed into the market, there was no way I could get her again. Firstly, it would be tantamount to looking for a needle in a hay stack with the kind of crowd that was in the market. Secondly, there was no way the crowd would look on unconcerned while I beat her up. They may end up beating me.