Ayorkor stared at her abdomen, tucked well into her waist trainer, excitement and fear lining her face all at the same time. This decision, the one she was bracing herself to voice out at Jone’s return, after what will be their last dinner, will change her life forever.
She pressed hard on the cylinder regulator and pulled it off. She wiped her wet hands with the napkin and exhaled, allowing a grateful smile barely form on her lips. She was done with dinner. She checked the kitchen clock. Jones will be home in a few minutes. She crossed the kitchen and shut the door that led outside. Strong winds with cold breeze met and caressed her face. July this year seemed to be carrying the leftover of June’s winds.
Ayorkor chuckled then hurried to wash down, to get off the smell of fried chicken and onions. And to get ready for her announcement. She rushed into the spacious bedroom, untied the curtains and closed the louvre blades, leaving them slanted slightly rather than flatly closed. She stared at the room for a full minute, her brown eyes sad.
What was she doing here? Cooking, cleaning, being a wife to a man she isn’t married to? She sat for another minute before sliding off her long dress and staring at herself in the mirror. She looked younger still, a bit older than her 25 years but she was young. Young enough to be out with friends if she still had some on a Friday night like this. She stared at her lips, touching them as if apologizing for loaning them too soon without a proper first kiss. That’s what the preacher woman called it – cohabitation is loaning out yourself with no proper interest. Laughter had soared through the auditorium. And she was glad, glad she went. Next, she held her stomach and abdomen with both hands, like one would protecting it from a gunshot and quickly walked into the bathroom. Looking at herself like she did became a daily routine since she started thinking of leaving because of the pretty boy growing inside her. But what will Jones say – to the baby and her leaving? How could she tell him she was leaving? Not coming back again at all?
She covered her cut hair with a shower cap. She wondered what Jones will say about it too, once she told him what has been on her heart these 4 weeks. She questioned herself, her eyes steady on her image from the other side of the mirror overlooking the sink. Did she cut it to signify the fresh start she’s hoping for from tonight? Maybe. Or she cut it to convince herself if she left someone else besides Jones will want her – that she still was young and beautiful? She raised her face to the shower and let the drops of water beat it and run down her beautiful skin – one of the reasons she traded her freedom 7 years ago. Her skin was a middle ground between tanned and deep dark chocolate.
“You look like chocolate.”
Jones had laughed at the resort where she did her first runway.
“More like shining cocoa beans?”
She added a remark of her own and laughed. She couldn’t be blamed. She was just a child, excited to be getting attention from the big names in the industry and foolishly willing to do anything it took to be in their list for job referrals. And she did everything.
Jones’ deep voice sounded to the bathroom. She shook inside and stepped onto the floor to shut the door. It went halfway and stopped.
“I’m showering. Give me 5 minutes.” Continue reading