Chapter 27: Chapter 27

It was a lazy Saturday morning for Kamsi. She still lay in bed not minding sunlight that managed to enter the room even with the closed curtains.

She turned from the left side of the bed to the right. It was not in her habit to stay in bed till that time but she could not move her legs to stand. She tapped the screen of her phone to check the time . It was a few minutes past eleven. She looked at the butterfly wall paper on her Infinix phone thinking of what to do.

She began to scroll through her gallery, looking at the very scanty couple pictures she had with Mark. The ones that they took mostly in the village with Michelle as the photographer. In all the pictures ,Mark held her waist and she held him with two hands , her head on his chest and a smile on her face - A true smile.

She washed her face in the bathroom and even moved to wipe her feet on the T-shirt on the floor even though she did not have to. The sink was close to the door and the rag was in front of the bathtub which was at the end of the room. But she just chose to step on the new rag.

She came out to a missed call from her Step-mother. It had been a long time since they spoke. She did not need to wait till later to call her back, she did it then.

"My baby," The older woman's beautiful voice came on.

"Mummmmmy, how are you doing?" Kamsi asked, holding the phone to her ear and removing dirt from her free finger nails.

" I'm alright. Just hold on, let me give the phone to my husband. He has been asking of you."

"Alright," Kamsi replied now playing with her white night wear with pink flowered designs.

There was a brief silence which was later replaced by Venerable Nwachukwu's rich tenor.

"Kamsi, how have you been?" he asked.

"I have been alright ,Sir. What about you?"

"I am great. The Lord has been so good to us," he replied.

Kamsi nodded silently. It was his usual reply.

"Your mother and I plan to come down to the east before the year runs out. If all goes as planned, we would definitely be seeing you soon," The Venerable said.

"I am excited already. You people should be quick with your arrangements o."

The man laughed then spoke,

" Keep praying hard, Kamsi. We pray for you over here every morning."

The phone was later passed back to Genevieve and Kamsi was grateful. The call with the Venerable had later turned to a counselling session but she did not know that her Step mum was about to continue.

"What of Mark?" she asked .

"He should be in his room," Kamsi replied.

" Are you in the kitchen?"

" No, I am in my own room. We no longer sleep together."

"Ah, good. That is just why I called."

Kamsi could not help raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"How naa? Did you speak to Maka?" she asked.

"Maka told me everything. I don't know what she left out or what she added. You know she loves to worsen matters but you should have called me. I should be your emergency number even before Maka."

" I did not want to bother you," Kamsi replied.

"Bother me?" The older woman laughed. "If you know what I went through for you, you will realise that there's nothing you do now that can be called trouble to me."

Kamsi heard her shut the door. She was probably in her own room.

"Kamsi, I know how you are. I don't want you to shut down like you did with your father," Genevieve said. She paused waiting for a reply.

"I am not shutting down. I am just trying to fit into all these lies. I want to know what I truly want really, that's all."

"You should talk to your husband, let him know how you feel and see what he has to say. Have you tried that?"

"It is useless," Kamsi said, knowing that the man in question will just watch her pour her heart out and he would dress it with lies afterwards.

"I did fight for your father," Genevieve spoke, taking Kamsi unawares because she never talked of her first husband.

"I fought for him, shamelessly even. When he moved out, I followed him to the place he lived with his mistress and I cried. I cried."

Kamsi could hear her sniffing on the other end.

"Can we stop talking about this?" She said.

Genevieve sniffed some more. "You don't know how I feel hearing that you are having troubles in your marriage. Kamsi, I did everything then but what I did not do was to pray.

You have to go down on your knees in prayer and ask God . He will answer."

After the long call that lasted close to an hour ended, Kamsi was forced to remember the man her father had been. The similarities he had with Mark broke her heart. Both men were controlling, promiscuous but her father had been a woman beater. Mark was not or maybe he had not attained the level yet. At the end, her father left them. The result made her see the dark future in her marriage but Mark was not her father, He was her husband so she knew she had to fight for what was hers. She still had time.

She brushed her teeth before going down to the kitchen. She perceived the sweet aroma of food as she progressed down the stairs. She peeped into the parlor and Mark was seated there in a black tracksuit trouser and ash polo. His legs were crossed on the centre table. She went to him and massaged his shoulders.

"Good morning."

"It is afternoon, baby. You took your time," he replied, patting her small hands on his shoulder.

" It is the baby. She is a sleeper," Kamsi replied, coming to stand in front of him as she rubbed her hand on her tummy.

"She? Why haven't we done this before, who said it's a She?" Mark asked, laughing.

Kamsi shrugged, smiling sadly. It was her fourth month of pregnancy and the first time she was having a gender discussion about the baby with her husband.

"Can I talk to him, has he started to kick?" he asked, putting his ear against her stomach.

Kamsi slapped his head, making sure it was painful but as a joke.

"Why would she be kicking so early?"

"Ah, this your mother's palm is painful o," Mark said, rubbing the back of his head.

" I made porridge yam. I have been waiting for you to come down," He said, leading the way to the kitchen.

The porridge yam was served and Kamsi could not eat it.

"Why?" the husband asked.

" I don't know. It is not what I want to eat."

The man was hurt. It showed in his fallen face. She was the major reason why he had cooked and even sent Timothy to get Iced fish. The only good thing was that she used the fried fish to drink pap.

That afternoon, the couple sat in a comfortable silence in the sitting room. A Nollywood movie was playing and all Mark knew to do was criticise and predict their next action until he slept off on the sofa. Kamsi was not so interested in the movie, she was swiping through her phone until Mark's phone beeped. She dared to look and it was a message notification;

"I miss you. When are you coming?"

She tilted her head, reading the message again. It was the only message from the sender. She shut her eyes and opened it again. The message was still there, its claws reaching into her heart and squeezing tight.

How could she know that just a message would cause a throbbing in her heart and a brim of tears in her eyes. Maybe if she had known, she would not have looked.

She stood, hugging herself as she went up to her room. The letters of the message played in her head like a slideshow: I MISS YOU. WHEN ARE YOU COMING?

It affirmed what she already knew. If she decided to talk to her husband, she did not know what she would be talking about. To her, he was a man that had made up his mind not to be faithful but he was still her husband.

She heard the sound of his leather slippers as it slapped the stairs and she went into his room through their adjoining door. She sat on the bed while he dressed. He wore a blue jean with a white singlet then rummaged inside a drawer in the wardrobe. Carefully he put some things in his pocket then wore a white shirt. Everything he wore fitted him well and Kamsi saw the reason other women could be attracted to him.

"I have a meeting with the Alumni," he said as he wore his wrist watch. He looked at Kamsi. "Did you hear me?"

She sighed. "Does she know you have a pregnant wife at home?"

Somehow that question left Mark's tongue tied and later rendered him a stammerer.

"Who.. Who.. Are you talking about?"

" You are too smart to play stupid," Kamsi replied. She stood up and left his room. His silence followed her, a loud proclamation of his guilt.

Mark later left the house but not to the place he had planned to earlier. He went to a hotel which had a very small bar. Just two men were there when he entered. He found a table at a hidden corner and plopped on the seat with his head in his hands. He had been stupid to think that there was something hidden under the sun. Of all the women outside his marriage , non was worthy of the pain from guilt he found. It was guilt to him but not truly guilt, it was just pain from being brought to light. He was not planning apologies, he was planning lies to tell. An apology would hurt his ego and taint his image. It would lower the respect his wife had for him and he did not want that.

He was reluctant to return home but he did anyway. He sat outside for a while before he went inside. For the first time in his life, he lacked the words to approach a woman especially this woman who was his wife.

The front door was open and the light in the sitting room was off when he entered. The lights went on before he finished bolting the door.

"Have you eaten? " Kamsi  asked from the parlour.

The voice startled him for a moment then he composed himself and walked into the room.

" Come, let's eat, " she said.

"I.. umm..let me remove my shoe" he said. He was not wearing a shoe, he was wearing his leather slippers. Kamsi just smiled at him and allowed him to go up.

He came down after a shot of gin. He was not more confident and he did not have much words but he tried to act like it. He assumed he knew his wife so well and that was why he trusted that a woman like her would not poison his food. He also knew that she hardly denied him food. It never happened as a fact.

"How was the meeting?" she asked as she was half way into her food and he was also silently eating his eba and egusi soup. He took a large chunk of meat together with a moulded eba and that was the last. He washed his hands and stared pointedly at her.

"Kamsi."

"Do not lie to me," she said calmly, her head bowed into her food.

"She is one of the students on industrial training. That text message, there was nothing there really," He said. He knew it could only be the message that had triggered her accusations because it was just on the screen of his phone. He hated to be the one at fault, he hated to be explaining. He waited for her reply but got none.

"Good night," he said. He rose up from his seat and left the parlour wishing she would suddenly say something, even if it is to cry but there was nothing just the sound of the plates and trays as she cleared off the dining.

Kamsi could not sleep that night. She tossed about in bed looking for the right position to sleep. She was trying to blank her mind not to remember, not to think too hard. That was what her step mother meant by 'shutting down' but she knew it was not healthy. The first time she did it, hate was the end product. If she tried to think, she remembered the other day at the market, the text message and then the drawer where he kept his car keys , there were also packs of condoms there. They did not need condoms in their marriage.

The only source of light in the room was the switch by her bedside and the clock which was always illuminated in darkness. The clock read, thirty minutes past two. She flung her legs off the bed and into her husband's room. She opened the door not so silently then she marched to the bed in the darkness. She did not want to suffer the sleeplessness alone.

She knelt at the foot of the bed. Her plan was to start praying so Mark would wake up and join her but she could not bring herself to pray.

"Lord," she said and the next line of words were tears.

She stretched a hand and tapped him in a manner that can not be described as gentle. He moved and turned to her.

"I am awake," he said.

"Let us pray."

He did not mean to laugh but he could not help it.

"Kamsi, pray by this time?" he asked, amused.

She nodded in the darkness. He was silent for a while then he said,

"Let's pray in the morning, okay?"

"Now is the best time," she replied, still kneeling at the foot of the bed.

He brought his legs down to the floor then searched for his slippers. Kamsi waited for him in the darkness. Her only thoughts were that he was about to leave the room. He stood and went to the door , put on a light switch there then he wore a polo before sitting back on the bed. Kamsi still knelt, looking at him waiting for his next actions. He inhaled and exhaled . While seated on the bed he began to sing,

"you are the king

Above all the earth

Kabi o osi o

Kabi o osi..."