Yemisi

"You would have to divorce your wife because I hope you have not forgotten that you are betrothed to someone else..."

The only thing that prevailed between me and opening the door to the living room to drop the tray of milkshake as refreshment for my mother-in-law were the words that my ears had seemed to catch. In responsiveness to those odious words, my ears tingled.

Gently, I placed the tray containing the jug of milkshake on the side table next to where I  standing, tiptoeing till my ears were pressed hard against the wooden door right before me that was stymieing me from watching my mother-in-law speak to my husband, Christopher.

I decide that eavesdropping would only be a wiser idea because obviously, my mother-in-law would never have said those abusive words in my presence. She'd only waited for me to leave for the kitchen before spilling out all of her heart's content so opening the door and expecting her to ramble would only be silly.

I know I am going to have my heart brutally splintered if I continue to eavesdrop on their dialogue but I just cannot act like I'm not inquisitive especially after those words I had just heard. Nosiness was now wrenching at my gut and I was going to sap every information that I possibly could.

I lean closer, pressing my ear painfully to the door until my ear is almost as flat as the door itself but it is worth it because her voice is more audible now. Audible due to rage.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY NO?!"

"Mum, my NO is NO! Why the hell would you come to my house to compel a betrothal on me when I'm blissfully married to my wife? What answer are you expecting me to give you?"

"Why are you talking like you are just knowing about your betrothal for the first time? You have always known that you belong to someone else yet you went ahead to marry Yemisi."

I am just at the perimeter of losing it because I promise I can feel the screws in my brain loosening. I am done letting the old wench hurl jabs and throw malicious looks that made me feel flyspecks of poison all the time. I am done letting that woman disrespect me for years, having her mere presence give me sleepless nights.

I was already feeling very apprehensive when Christopher and I walked into our home from the hospital only to meet his mother waiting in the living room. The friction was sinister enough but listening to these vile words geyser from her mouth when all I've done was to try to be the best daughter-in-law to her was distasteful and I swear I'm going to—

Christopher's voice comes in handy and it comes thunderously, doing the speaking for me so I refrain from opening the doorknob to drench her with the frigid anger I am feeling towards like her like the cascading of a bucket full of cold water on a white puppy.

"Mum, shut up! I really do not get why you hate my wife when she has done absolutely nothing to you but that's fine. You don't need to like her. I don't want you liking her because the love I have for her is already enough but you insulting her is something I won't take and I would not leave my wife for some unknown lady simply because I'm betrothed to her. Now, leave my house if you've got nothing sensible to say!"

"I would leave your house but the next time I visit, I would be coming along with your brother's wife and you know better than to think I'm frolicking."

After the deadly menace or the avowal of a promise rather, silence dominated. Meaningful, searing silence that chomped on my heart like the claws of a hungry bear mauling at its fibers and tearing it into shreds. Then, the stormy sound of the door slamming close.

I stand still next to the door where my ear had previously been flattened against and slower than a salamander in the winter, I walk towards the sofa next to the side table where I'd gently placed the tray and I slump onto it, my derriere bouncing back up only slightly.

After twenty years of my life has passed by, which comprised of losing my first husband to the cold snares of death and then meeting Christopher years later, who was willing to love me fiercely, I never thought a day like this would come because I already thought the days of misery and tears were over.

Christopher gave me a lovely life that I never even prayed for. I mean, it was painstakingly hard for my get over the death of my first husband, Ken because he cared for me and our children like we were his world. It was even harder because his family members had the temerity to blame his death on me.

They seized all of his property that was in my custody, insisting that I shall have no right to own those properties. They had even sent me out of my matrimonial home! The home we'd worked really hard to build together.

I know the African folklore can many at times be sick, and very much preposterous in fact but when I got blamed for the death of my husband based on grounds of alleged mysticism, I nearly lost it! I could not believe the strange things I heard because everyone knew just how much I loved Ken when he was alive.

I'd loved him even to the disfavor of my own family but it only got me nothing but an intolerable brush-off from his family members.

Nevertheless, I had to be strong for my children, Gifty, and Zion because they were going through an emotional breakdown due to the loss of their dad. I could not cry on days when it felt the most appropriate to cry simply because I had to serve as a shoulder to lean on for my children.

But hey, I was the one who was hurting the most! Ken was the love of my entire life!

Christopher came two years later and made my life lovely; far beyond what I'd even haggled for but there was another issue, one standing block I always prayed to never encounter again – bad in-laws.

They literally make your life a hellhole.

Christopher's mum had already been making life miserable but stupidly, I had been taking it in, standing upon the solace of Christopher's undying love for me but what happened today is seriously the worst of it's kind.

Ken's family always feigned to love me until Ken gave up the ghost. They never came around to give me a hard time when Ken was alive. It was until after his demise that they'd shown their true colors which was heartbreaking but what am I to do when my marriage was already heading off the rocks with this woman threatening to tear Christopher and I apart?

...but the next time I visit you, I would be coming along with your betrothed wife and you know better than to think I'm frolicking.

With these thoughts playing through my mind one more time, I bask myself in the lividness and infuriating nature of those words when I feel a light, persistent tap on my shoulder which jolts me out of my forlorn woolgathering.

"Mum, why are you crying?" The voice of my seventeen years old daughter slashes through the sphere of my thoughts like a knife slashing through butter and like a reflex action, I adjust my position on the couch, smearing my face with my palms only for my fingers to come in contact with salty wetness.

Had I really been crying?

"I-I was just...thinking of a few things. It's nothing really. Just go and read your books." I reply flustered and stuttering like a hen in the rain.

Oops! She's on holiday.

"I don't believe you but I'd let it be," she replies completely ignoring the latter part of my speech.

"Dad seemed to be really angry too. He did not return my greeting when we met in the laundry room just a few minutes ago. I initially thought that it was because he wasn't feeling well but now...I'm guessing you two had a fight?"

"Well...not exactly but..."

'There might be a fight very soon.' I want to add but decide to leave it unsaid.

Why would he not try to look for me after the hot argument he had with his mother? Is he speculating that I heard none of the discussion and would just resort to never telling me so I don't get to ever find out about it?

"It's okay if you can't say the rest of it. I just hope everything would be okay very soon." She rubs her smarmy palms smoothly against my shoulders but minus the smoothness that the effect of her fingers is supposed to have on me, it feels like the digits of a tarantula crawling subtly on my skin.

How on earth am I supposed to feel okay if Christopher is going to pretend like our marriage is not at a huge stake?! Would he really not wonder why he has not seen my face ever since I left for the kitchen to get that jug of milkshake? Would he actually avoid divulging the situation of things to me? Would he not at least tell me that all his mother said was a lie?

Suddenly, as though the roots of a naked wire had just been in drastic contact with my hands, I get up from the couch. The action sends Gifty's hands flying off my shoulders repellently.

"Thank you, my love. I will be fine,” I tell my daughter who is wearing an expression on her face that is unfathomable but I have limited time to decide what it really is as I storm out of the waiting room, enraged.

My pace doesn't slow down for a second until I'm right in front of the door to his room. What am I going to say? Outrightly confront him? Wait for him to open up to me? Or bring up the discussion in a modest way? Biting my lip with anxiety and sending all of the words in my mind draining down my esophagus, I turn the doorknob open and walk into the room without giving my convoy of thoughts much deliberation.