*A QUARANTINE VISIT*
*He turned off his data,* and suddenly, he realized how empty his house was. The parlour felt too large for him. In here he felt small, insignificant. There was something new about this house, something he had never noticed in the three years of owning it. It was the calm, the sudden peace that it had - a boring peace. It was too big for a single man like him, and because he had been stuck here for the past three days, it'd become too quiet for his liking. The silence wrapped him, made him feel so uncomfortable. He was tired of doing nothing, tired of the news on the internet. The Virus was spreading fast, the world was lost in panic, borders were blocked. The economy was crumbling, business was halted. He didn't care about the News, had never cared about the outbreak. It didn't seem serious to him, until his Boss had walked into the banking hall four days ago, his face covered with a sanitary mask and ordered them to go home until further notice. Their lives mattered first, before the job, he said. It was a compulsory holiday, and he hated holidays, hated going on leave. It made him feel jobless, reminding him of the days he sat at home without a job, watching boring adverts on TV, listening to voices on the radio, hanging at Newspaper stands checking for updates on jobs. He hated remembering his life before now, before this job, before this house, before everything he was before now.
He stretched, letting his arms spread apart, pleased with the ease that came with it. He walked out of the parlour, took the stairs and stood in the balcony. From here he could see the neighborhood. The streets were scanty and the roads were clean. He could sleep on the tar and wake up tomorrow alive. Everything was abnormal these days. He checked his phone, the time was 4:50PM. The sun was setting gradually and soon darkness would swallow him. Power had been out for days now. He scrolled through his phone, through his contacts, trying to kill this boredom that itched him. There were so many numbers, names of people he could not remember. He kept scrolling until he got to Tolu's number.
"Hello. Tolu on the line. Who am I on to?" It had been years they spoke, but Tolu's voice hadn't changed.
"Tolu the only Tolu!" He said, stretching his voice.
"Wait... Is it who I think it is? Onome?"
"Tolu the Tolu! Longest time!"
"Onome you remembered me today! I am shocked! Arrrrgh!"
"Why?"
"You know, you just disappeared, cut everybody off, nobody knew your whereabouts anymore! You weren't picking calls or calling anybody, so we assumed you were dead, or didn't want us again in your life." Tolu was happy, he could feel it in his voice. He had not spoken to them for six years now, didn't know where they were or what they did. And somehow he felt guilty now, for abandoning them, the only friends he had.
"Why do you think so?" He asked.
"You know, since the incident... You just changed. Nobody could understand you anymore."
"I did not change" He said and wished Tolu would not bring up the past, his past. "So how are you? Tolu my good friend." He asked, in a happy tone.
"I am fine. Just stuck in the house with my wife and kids. This virus thing isn't funny o"
"You're married?" He was shocked, a bit.
"Yes of course. It's been three years now. We are blessed with a set of twins. Girls." Tolu laughed, a laughter that didn't show pride.
"Ooh. Congratulations." He said.
"Thank you my man. What about you? How's life, are you married now?"
"Married? No. No." Marriage was a thing he had never thought for himself, not anymore.
"Arrrrgh, but why? Don't tell me you're yet to recover fr..."
"My choice. Been busy I guess."
"Busy? You can't be serious Onome. Who on earth is too busy to have a wife and a family for Christ's sake?"
"I don't want to talk about this, please." He was getting irritated.
"Okay. If you say so. But. I am very happy hearing from you, Onome. It's been so so long."
"Yea. I know." Below him three children were playing football on the street. They threw the ball up in the sky and he followed it with his eyes until it landed on the floor, bouncing back into the children's feet.
"Ginika will be so happy when I tell her you called. She's been asking of you too much."
The Children were throwing kicks and making noise.
"Ginika?"
"Oh Onome, don't pretend like you don't remember. Ginika, your Ginika."
_Your Ginika_ made him feel warm, and his mind travelled, He thought of Ginika, picturing her in his mind - tall and plump, with lips the colour of cola. She had been his friend all through their years in the University. She was kind, homely and always cared too much about him. Once, when he had drowned himself in alcohol, she was the one who cleaned him up, packed his vomits and bathed him with cold water. She cooked for him on days she wasn't going for class. She liked him, everyone told him, but he didn't notice, or didn't care. He was in a relationship, loved his girlfriend, Amara so much and wasn't willing to share his heart, so he didn't notice Ginika. And even six years ago, when Amara spat on his face in the presence of his friends and left him on his knees, with his ring hanging on his palms, it was Ginika whom had patted him on the back, telling him it wasn't meant to be, that he deserved someone better. She kept saying this to him until he slept off on the chair in the bar and woke up in his room. That was the last time he saw her, the last time he saw all of them.
"Ooh Ginika. How is she?"
"She's fine. She'll be so happy hearing from you. You should call her."
"No. I don't think so."
He had had enough. He called Tolu out of boredom and now he was no longer bored.
"Onome. You should call that young lady. She really cares about you, and perhaps, this is the best time to reach out to her."
"Why?"
"She's going through a lot. Divorce, child loss. Just call her and talk to her. I'll forward her number right away.
*The number came* immediately Tolu ended the call.
At first he didn't want to call, but he did. The phone rang twice without an answer. The children were now fighting below. One of them threw a punch to the other's face and soon there was a cluster of flying fists.
He walked back into his room, sat on the settee, throwing his back to comfort. He stared at the painting on the wall opposite him and for the first time could read meanings to it. There was something about this idleness, it had a way of making people think they had hidden talents, illusional gifts. He smiled. He stood up and on his way to the kitchen his phone rang.
Ginika couldn't hold her happiness over the phone. She asked him where he had been, what he had been doing, where he was, and she insisted on coming over to see him. He sent his address.
*The knock on the door woke him up.*
Ginika stood behind it when he opened. She was almost unrecognizable. She was as tall as he remembered, but was wider now, with a bland skin. She was smiling at him.
"Ooh my God! I can't believe this. This is really you!" She reached out and hugged him, holding him too tightly.
"Come in. Take a seat." He said to her, pointing to a chair in his spacious parlour.
"You own this place?"
"Yes."
"Ooh my God! It's so beautiful. I thank God for your life Onome. You finally made it, like I knew you would."
"What can I offer you?"
"What do you have?"
"Water. Vodka. Wine."
"Wine." She said, staring at the chandeliers above.
"Your place is really fine, I must confess."
He walked over to the minibar at the edge of the parlour and brought out a bottle of wine. He filled two glasses and sat opposite her, watching her sip the drink quietly.
"Don't tell me you live here all alone."
"Yes I do." He wasn't in for a chat.
"Onome. I have missed you so much." Ginika's face was covered in happiness. "When you called, I thought I was dreaming, I even thought it was a ghost, so I had to come and see you with my own eyes."
"I've missed you too." He lied.
"No. You have not. You shut me out. You shut everybody out. You weren't reachable. I was so worried that I fell sick thinking of you Onome."
"I'm fine." He said, trying to avoid her eyes.
"You don't do that to the people who love you. It isn't fair!"
"I'm sorry." He said hoping it wouldn't sound flat. Looking at her, he began to feel remorseful.
"You just disappeared. Six years. Six good years and all you can say is sorry?"
"What else do you want me to say?" He raised his voice.
"You don't get it, do you? Because of a girl who didn't care about you and your feelings, or your future you forgot those who actually cared about you and you treat them like shit!"
"This isn't about Amara."
"Of course it is. It has always been about Amara. You took it too seriously."
"I needed some time for myself. I just wanted to be alone and make something better out of my life."
"Nobody wants to be alone Onome. You were hurt. You were disappointed. But who isn't?"
"Can we stop talking about this please." He was becoming tensed. He poured her more wine.
She resisted.
"I'm sorry." She said.
"It's okay."
*There was silence now.*
They sat watching each other, not saying a word. He looked at her once in a while, noticing how beautiful she had grown. Her lips were still dark, she was still soft in heart as he remembered, but she was a bigger and finer Ginika, the gown she wore was a little bit tight and her shape was perfect. She was wearing a ring, a diamond ring.
"I see you're married now." He asked her, breaking the silence.
"Me? Not really."
"Not really?"
"Was married, we're going through divorce."
"Ooh. I'm so sorry."
"You shouldn't be. It's okay. These things happen. You fall in love, then along the line you realize everything was a mistake and you can't take it anymore."
"So why do you still wear the ring?"
"Ooh this? Nothing. To scare men away I guess. We've not finalised the divorce yet though, the case is still in court."
"Ooh. Goodluck on that."
"Yea. Thanks."
*They went back into silence.* It felt awkward - the two of them sitting together after all these years with so many things to say to each other, not knowing how to say those things. They had lost their connection. He wished he knew more about her life now.
"So, how has life been for you? Why are you not yet married?
And how do you manage to live alone in this mansion?"
"I'm a very busy man. I only spend the night here."
"Why are you not yet married? With all this money you now have."
"I don't know? Maybe I've not made up my mind, or I've not seen someone special."
"I don't believe you. I know you Onome, you always have women flocking around you. Don't tell me you can't choose one out of the flock." She spoke with ease now, with an assurance that she knew him. He liked that she still showed concern about him and it made him want to open up to her, to empty all those emotions and thoughts he had been hoarding in his heart for so long.
"I can't get over it. I can't get over Amara."
The words slipped out of his mouth slowly, and the heaviness of it surprised him.
"After all these years?"
"Yes. It just feels like a part of me left when she left. I can't seem to love another like I loved her."
"You stress yourself too much over this girl who should be in another man's house as we speak. I know you loved her and she broke your heart. But you have to move on. Life goes on."
"It's hard for me." He said.
"Onome you can't keep denying yourself love over something that happened six years ago. You are a fine rich man. Almost every young girl in this country will want you. Why do you choose loneliness instead? Huh?"
"I am not lonely. I work all day. I just don't have the time."
"Onome you're thirty-two. Thirty- two. You should forget Amara. She didn't deserve you and still doesn't."
_Forget Amara_ rang in his head. Amara was unforgettable. She was the first girl he had truly loved and that was the problem. He loved her too much. He called her his wife, called her phone everyday, bought things for her without her permission. He was obsessed. He wanted to marry her. But she wanted more. He was broke, fresh out of the University, didn't have a job yet. He had a future ahead and he promised her a good life. But she didn't believe in promises. She was the kind of girl who believed in only the things she saw and could touch. So when he knelt down and asked her to marry him, in his smooth voice, she had shrugged, and with a smirk, said, 'I can't do this. I'm sorry," without blinking, without avoiding his eyes.
The crowd he had gathered stood there in surprise. He stared at her, his eyes begging her to say yes, to save him from the shame, but she didn't care. She grabbed her bag, walked out of the bar without looking back. He knelt there, dumbfounded. His knees had grown stiff and he felt too heavy to move.
"It is hard for me." He said again, suddenly having a thirst for wine.
"I know. It is hard for all of us. But you have to heal, that is why you need people around, to help you with the healing process. We all need people around, their presence helps us forget everything." She stood, walked over and sat next to him. He sipped his wine, allowing every gulp to water his throat.
"You know. My husband and I have been through a lot too. We were in love, I guess, but somehow, after marriage, it disappeared and we would quarrel every time, fighting, saying awful things to each other until it got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave, even if it comes with shame."
"Shame?"
"Onome divorce is not something to be proud of. I was advised to stay, people said I should endure, that he will change, but he kept on beating me. He beat a child out of me. Can you believe it?" Her voice grew sad. He didn't know what to say to her, if he should reach out, hug her and say sorry for her failed marriage, or to congratulate her with a handshake on her freedom.
"But it's okay now, i'm alive. That's what matters." She smiled. "So Onome, you never really know what lies ahead if you don't move forward. Give love a chance again."
He said nothing, instead, he just stared. Her face was a canvass, drawn with perfection. Her nose was long and her dimples made her lovable. Her breasts had doubled in size, bouncing with every movement she made. She was beautiful.
"You're beautiful." He said to her in a low voice, but the silence in the house made it louder. She smiled.
"You've never said that to me."
"Really?"
"Yes. You were always talking about Amara and bragging about how beautiful she was. Every time Amara this, Amara that, foolish boy." She laughed, swinging her head back and forth. He laughed too. She was happy, in this house, and he felt happy too.
"I'm so hungry. What do you have in this house?" She stood up, looking around for the kitchen.
"There's noodles."
He watched her do her magic with the noodles. She was a perfect chef. She was fast in the kitchen. He watched as the noodles boiled and soon the air was thick with a spicy scent.
"Do you remember those days in school when i'd cook noodles and you guys will put weed inside. And you would not let Amara touch the food? Ha ha. "You loved her too much. Each time you guys quarrelled you will drown yourself in alcohol and me your slave will come and bath you and put you to bed. Lover boy." Her laughter was smooth. She seemed to have no worries. She did the dishes immediately, arranged the plates neatly, swept the kitchen and left it with a fresh smell. She was a perfect wife, he thought. She had always been this perfect, and he felt stupid now. He watched her dish the food into a flat plate, digging two forks inside. He watched her set the food on the dining table with so much ease, with a certain familiarity, as though she had been here before.
*They ate in silence* , drank more wine, and stared at each other once in a while.
"So what's your plan now." He asked her, after their meal. He had never asked her this, in their many years of friendship.
"A lot. I have my life to live, my business too, so I guess I'll be very busy, but for now I'm just trying to not contact this virus." They laughed.
It was getting dark. Outside the breeze blew violently and the air inside was becoming chilly. She was doing the talking and he listened, nodding his head frequently. She talked about the virus, she said it was a biological weapon, that China wanted world power. He believed otherwise, but he did not argue with her. He was too mature for these arguments. It felt irrelevant, didn't change anything in the country. He knew these things and would not let them take a space in his mind.
"It's getting late. I should go." She said finally.
*He wanted to say no*, wanted to tell her to stay a little longer, that he loved her company, but he said nothing. He walked her out the door, down to her car.
"Thank you." He said. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He felt warm, his muscles thickened and he could feel the hardness in between his legs.
"You should come over some other time." He said.
"Whenever you want me, I'll be here." She said, smiling.
"He wanted to tell her he loved her right away, that he suddenly felt something for her, but instead he watched her drive out his gate, he let her go.
*He knew he would* call her another day. He would hold her hand and tell her how much he enjoyed her company and how perfect she was for him. He would tell her she was beautiful, that her husband was a good-for-nothing man who didn't deserve her. He would tell her this, and kiss her, and love her like he loved Amara. But for now, he entered into his house and suddenly, he realized how boring his life was without Ginika.
By
Darlington Chibuzor Eze
@UzorEze
*He turned off his data,* and suddenly, he realized how empty his house was. The parlour felt too large for him. In here he felt small, insignificant. There was something new about this house, something he had never noticed in the three years of owning it. It was the calm, the sudden peace that it had - a boring peace. It was too big for a single man like him, and because he had been stuck here for the past three days, it'd become too quiet for his liking. The silence wrapped him, made him feel so uncomfortable. He was tired of doing nothing, tired of the news on the internet. The Virus was spreading fast, the world was lost in panic, borders were blocked. The economy was crumbling, business was halted. He didn't care about the News, had never cared about the outbreak. It didn't seem serious to him, until his Boss had walked into the banking hall four days ago, his face covered with a sanitary mask and ordered them to go home until further notice. Their lives mattered first, before the job, he said. It was a compulsory holiday, and he hated holidays, hated going on leave. It made him feel jobless, reminding him of the days he sat at home without a job, watching boring adverts on TV, listening to voices on the radio, hanging at Newspaper stands checking for updates on jobs. He hated remembering his life before now, before this job, before this house, before everything he was before now.
He stretched, letting his arms spread apart, pleased with the ease that came with it. He walked out of the parlour, took the stairs and stood in the balcony. From here he could see the neighborhood. The streets were scanty and the roads were clean. He could sleep on the tar and wake up tomorrow alive. Everything was abnormal these days. He checked his phone, the time was 4:50PM. The sun was setting gradually and soon darkness would swallow him. Power had been out for days now. He scrolled through his phone, through his contacts, trying to kill this boredom that itched him. There were so many numbers, names of people he could not remember. He kept scrolling until he got to Tolu's number.
"Hello. Tolu on the line. Who am I on to?" It had been years they spoke, but Tolu's voice hadn't changed.
"Tolu the only Tolu!" He said, stretching his voice.
"Wait... Is it who I think it is? Onome?"
"Tolu the Tolu! Longest time!"
"Onome you remembered me today! I am shocked! Arrrrgh!"
"Why?"
"You know, you just disappeared, cut everybody off, nobody knew your whereabouts anymore! You weren't picking calls or calling anybody, so we assumed you were dead, or didn't want us again in your life." Tolu was happy, he could feel it in his voice. He had not spoken to them for six years now, didn't know where they were or what they did. And somehow he felt guilty now, for abandoning them, the only friends he had.
"Why do you think so?" He asked.
"You know, since the incident... You just changed. Nobody could understand you anymore."
"I did not change" He said and wished Tolu would not bring up the past, his past. "So how are you? Tolu my good friend." He asked, in a happy tone.
"I am fine. Just stuck in the house with my wife and kids. This virus thing isn't funny o"
"You're married?" He was shocked, a bit.
"Yes of course. It's been three years now. We are blessed with a set of twins. Girls." Tolu laughed, a laughter that didn't show pride.
"Ooh. Congratulations." He said.
"Thank you my man. What about you? How's life, are you married now?"
"Married? No. No." Marriage was a thing he had never thought for himself, not anymore.
"Arrrrgh, but why? Don't tell me you're yet to recover fr..."
"My choice. Been busy I guess."
"Busy? You can't be serious Onome. Who on earth is too busy to have a wife and a family for Christ's sake?"
"I don't want to talk about this, please." He was getting irritated.
"Okay. If you say so. But. I am very happy hearing from you, Onome. It's been so so long."
"Yea. I know." Below him three children were playing football on the street. They threw the ball up in the sky and he followed it with his eyes until it landed on the floor, bouncing back into the children's feet.
"Ginika will be so happy when I tell her you called. She's been asking of you too much."
The Children were throwing kicks and making noise.
"Ginika?"
"Oh Onome, don't pretend like you don't remember. Ginika, your Ginika."
_Your Ginika_ made him feel warm, and his mind travelled, He thought of Ginika, picturing her in his mind - tall and plump, with lips the colour of cola. She had been his friend all through their years in the University. She was kind, homely and always cared too much about him. Once, when he had drowned himself in alcohol, she was the one who cleaned him up, packed his vomits and bathed him with cold water. She cooked for him on days she wasn't going for class. She liked him, everyone told him, but he didn't notice, or didn't care. He was in a relationship, loved his girlfriend, Amara so much and wasn't willing to share his heart, so he didn't notice Ginika. And even six years ago, when Amara spat on his face in the presence of his friends and left him on his knees, with his ring hanging on his palms, it was Ginika whom had patted him on the back, telling him it wasn't meant to be, that he deserved someone better. She kept saying this to him until he slept off on the chair in the bar and woke up in his room. That was the last time he saw her, the last time he saw all of them.
"Ooh Ginika. How is she?"
"She's fine. She'll be so happy hearing from you. You should call her."
"No. I don't think so."
He had had enough. He called Tolu out of boredom and now he was no longer bored.
"Onome. You should call that young lady. She really cares about you, and perhaps, this is the best time to reach out to her."
"Why?"
"She's going through a lot. Divorce, child loss. Just call her and talk to her. I'll forward her number right away.
*The number came* immediately Tolu ended the call.
At first he didn't want to call, but he did. The phone rang twice without an answer. The children were now fighting below. One of them threw a punch to the other's face and soon there was a cluster of flying fists.
He walked back into his room, sat on the settee, throwing his back to comfort. He stared at the painting on the wall opposite him and for the first time could read meanings to it. There was something about this idleness, it had a way of making people think they had hidden talents, illusional gifts. He smiled. He stood up and on his way to the kitchen his phone rang.
Ginika couldn't hold her happiness over the phone. She asked him where he had been, what he had been doing, where he was, and she insisted on coming over to see him. He sent his address.
*The knock on the door woke him up.*
Ginika stood behind it when he opened. She was almost unrecognizable. She was as tall as he remembered, but was wider now, with a bland skin. She was smiling at him.
"Ooh my God! I can't believe this. This is really you!" She reached out and hugged him, holding him too tightly.
"Come in. Take a seat." He said to her, pointing to a chair in his spacious parlour.
"You own this place?"
"Yes."
"Ooh my God! It's so beautiful. I thank God for your life Onome. You finally made it, like I knew you would."
"What can I offer you?"
"What do you have?"
"Water. Vodka. Wine."
"Wine." She said, staring at the chandeliers above.
"Your place is really fine, I must confess."
He walked over to the minibar at the edge of the parlour and brought out a bottle of wine. He filled two glasses and sat opposite her, watching her sip the drink quietly.
"Don't tell me you live here all alone."
"Yes I do." He wasn't in for a chat.
"Onome. I have missed you so much." Ginika's face was covered in happiness. "When you called, I thought I was dreaming, I even thought it was a ghost, so I had to come and see you with my own eyes."
"I've missed you too." He lied.
"No. You have not. You shut me out. You shut everybody out. You weren't reachable. I was so worried that I fell sick thinking of you Onome."
"I'm fine." He said, trying to avoid her eyes.
"You don't do that to the people who love you. It isn't fair!"
"I'm sorry." He said hoping it wouldn't sound flat. Looking at her, he began to feel remorseful.
"You just disappeared. Six years. Six good years and all you can say is sorry?"
"What else do you want me to say?" He raised his voice.
"You don't get it, do you? Because of a girl who didn't care about you and your feelings, or your future you forgot those who actually cared about you and you treat them like shit!"
"This isn't about Amara."
"Of course it is. It has always been about Amara. You took it too seriously."
"I needed some time for myself. I just wanted to be alone and make something better out of my life."
"Nobody wants to be alone Onome. You were hurt. You were disappointed. But who isn't?"
"Can we stop talking about this please." He was becoming tensed. He poured her more wine.
She resisted.
"I'm sorry." She said.
"It's okay."
*There was silence now.*
They sat watching each other, not saying a word. He looked at her once in a while, noticing how beautiful she had grown. Her lips were still dark, she was still soft in heart as he remembered, but she was a bigger and finer Ginika, the gown she wore was a little bit tight and her shape was perfect. She was wearing a ring, a diamond ring.
"I see you're married now." He asked her, breaking the silence.
"Me? Not really."
"Not really?"
"Was married, we're going through divorce."
"Ooh. I'm so sorry."
"You shouldn't be. It's okay. These things happen. You fall in love, then along the line you realize everything was a mistake and you can't take it anymore."
"So why do you still wear the ring?"
"Ooh this? Nothing. To scare men away I guess. We've not finalised the divorce yet though, the case is still in court."
"Ooh. Goodluck on that."
"Yea. Thanks."
*They went back into silence.* It felt awkward - the two of them sitting together after all these years with so many things to say to each other, not knowing how to say those things. They had lost their connection. He wished he knew more about her life now.
"So, how has life been for you? Why are you not yet married?
And how do you manage to live alone in this mansion?"
"I'm a very busy man. I only spend the night here."
"Why are you not yet married? With all this money you now have."
"I don't know? Maybe I've not made up my mind, or I've not seen someone special."
"I don't believe you. I know you Onome, you always have women flocking around you. Don't tell me you can't choose one out of the flock." She spoke with ease now, with an assurance that she knew him. He liked that she still showed concern about him and it made him want to open up to her, to empty all those emotions and thoughts he had been hoarding in his heart for so long.
"I can't get over it. I can't get over Amara."
The words slipped out of his mouth slowly, and the heaviness of it surprised him.
"After all these years?"
"Yes. It just feels like a part of me left when she left. I can't seem to love another like I loved her."
"You stress yourself too much over this girl who should be in another man's house as we speak. I know you loved her and she broke your heart. But you have to move on. Life goes on."
"It's hard for me." He said.
"Onome you can't keep denying yourself love over something that happened six years ago. You are a fine rich man. Almost every young girl in this country will want you. Why do you choose loneliness instead? Huh?"
"I am not lonely. I work all day. I just don't have the time."
"Onome you're thirty-two. Thirty- two. You should forget Amara. She didn't deserve you and still doesn't."
_Forget Amara_ rang in his head. Amara was unforgettable. She was the first girl he had truly loved and that was the problem. He loved her too much. He called her his wife, called her phone everyday, bought things for her without her permission. He was obsessed. He wanted to marry her. But she wanted more. He was broke, fresh out of the University, didn't have a job yet. He had a future ahead and he promised her a good life. But she didn't believe in promises. She was the kind of girl who believed in only the things she saw and could touch. So when he knelt down and asked her to marry him, in his smooth voice, she had shrugged, and with a smirk, said, 'I can't do this. I'm sorry," without blinking, without avoiding his eyes.
The crowd he had gathered stood there in surprise. He stared at her, his eyes begging her to say yes, to save him from the shame, but she didn't care. She grabbed her bag, walked out of the bar without looking back. He knelt there, dumbfounded. His knees had grown stiff and he felt too heavy to move.
"It is hard for me." He said again, suddenly having a thirst for wine.
"I know. It is hard for all of us. But you have to heal, that is why you need people around, to help you with the healing process. We all need people around, their presence helps us forget everything." She stood, walked over and sat next to him. He sipped his wine, allowing every gulp to water his throat.
"You know. My husband and I have been through a lot too. We were in love, I guess, but somehow, after marriage, it disappeared and we would quarrel every time, fighting, saying awful things to each other until it got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave, even if it comes with shame."
"Shame?"
"Onome divorce is not something to be proud of. I was advised to stay, people said I should endure, that he will change, but he kept on beating me. He beat a child out of me. Can you believe it?" Her voice grew sad. He didn't know what to say to her, if he should reach out, hug her and say sorry for her failed marriage, or to congratulate her with a handshake on her freedom.
"But it's okay now, i'm alive. That's what matters." She smiled. "So Onome, you never really know what lies ahead if you don't move forward. Give love a chance again."
He said nothing, instead, he just stared. Her face was a canvass, drawn with perfection. Her nose was long and her dimples made her lovable. Her breasts had doubled in size, bouncing with every movement she made. She was beautiful.
"You're beautiful." He said to her in a low voice, but the silence in the house made it louder. She smiled.
"You've never said that to me."
"Really?"
"Yes. You were always talking about Amara and bragging about how beautiful she was. Every time Amara this, Amara that, foolish boy." She laughed, swinging her head back and forth. He laughed too. She was happy, in this house, and he felt happy too.
"I'm so hungry. What do you have in this house?" She stood up, looking around for the kitchen.
"There's noodles."
He watched her do her magic with the noodles. She was a perfect chef. She was fast in the kitchen. He watched as the noodles boiled and soon the air was thick with a spicy scent.
"Do you remember those days in school when i'd cook noodles and you guys will put weed inside. And you would not let Amara touch the food? Ha ha. "You loved her too much. Each time you guys quarrelled you will drown yourself in alcohol and me your slave will come and bath you and put you to bed. Lover boy." Her laughter was smooth. She seemed to have no worries. She did the dishes immediately, arranged the plates neatly, swept the kitchen and left it with a fresh smell. She was a perfect wife, he thought. She had always been this perfect, and he felt stupid now. He watched her dish the food into a flat plate, digging two forks inside. He watched her set the food on the dining table with so much ease, with a certain familiarity, as though she had been here before.
*They ate in silence* , drank more wine, and stared at each other once in a while.
"So what's your plan now." He asked her, after their meal. He had never asked her this, in their many years of friendship.
"A lot. I have my life to live, my business too, so I guess I'll be very busy, but for now I'm just trying to not contact this virus." They laughed.
It was getting dark. Outside the breeze blew violently and the air inside was becoming chilly. She was doing the talking and he listened, nodding his head frequently. She talked about the virus, she said it was a biological weapon, that China wanted world power. He believed otherwise, but he did not argue with her. He was too mature for these arguments. It felt irrelevant, didn't change anything in the country. He knew these things and would not let them take a space in his mind.
"It's getting late. I should go." She said finally.
*He wanted to say no*, wanted to tell her to stay a little longer, that he loved her company, but he said nothing. He walked her out the door, down to her car.
"Thank you." He said. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He felt warm, his muscles thickened and he could feel the hardness in between his legs.
"You should come over some other time." He said.
"Whenever you want me, I'll be here." She said, smiling.
"He wanted to tell her he loved her right away, that he suddenly felt something for her, but instead he watched her drive out his gate, he let her go.
*He knew he would* call her another day. He would hold her hand and tell her how much he enjoyed her company and how perfect she was for him. He would tell her she was beautiful, that her husband was a good-for-nothing man who didn't deserve her. He would tell her this, and kiss her, and love her like he loved Amara. But for now, he entered into his house and suddenly, he realized how boring his life was without Ginika.
By
Darlington Chibuzor Eze
@UzorEze
Comments
Post a Comment