Page 82 of Cursed Daughters
“Damn!”
“How much do you love me?”
“A normal healthy amount, I imagine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Boring.”
He laughed. The warmth radiated throughout her body. Why did she always feel the urge to sleep around him? Her body was equating love with safety, making her drowsy, warm, drowning in oxytocin, so that she constantly felt the need to snuggle into him and close her eyes.
“You make me sleepy.”
“Wow. The insults are just pouring out today.”
“No. It’s a good thing. It’s a sign of my love.”
“So I put you into a coma, and you want to skin me alive…I’m getting butterflies.”
She shrugged and he pulled her closer. As close as he could get her without them merging into one body and one soul. It was hard to care about anything else when they were like this—gone was her mother’s disapproval, her grandmother’s dementia, her worries about money and career, and her concerns about her future. It had only been ten months, but she felt as though they had been like thisfor ever; in this lifetime and all the lifetimes that had come before. She buried herself into him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave.
She couldn’t have said how much time had gone by. It was too short and would always be too short.
“Are we going to talk about it?”
She groaned and turned away from him.
“What does your mum have against me?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.”
“Is it because I am Igbo?”
She sat up, and he followed suit. “My mum isn’t tribalist,” she said.
“All Nigerians are tribalist.”
“Are your parents? Will they have a problem with me?”
“This isn’t about them.”
“Isn’t it? I hear Igbo people are particular, down to the village a person comes from.”
“But at the end of the day, at least the Igbo man treats his wife well.”
“Excuse you? Aren’t you always saying how your father and mother are at odds, all the freaking time?”
They stared at one another. She was breathing hard and he looked pained. In the end, they were not as immune to the tribal prejudices as they had thought. Zubby sighed. He was irritated. He sighed a lot when he was irritated.
“What are we even arguing about? Why are you being so defensive?”
“I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry,Z.”
“Look, Eni, we have to face this. How will we be together otherwise?”
“Let’s run away to Canada. We can bunk with Ada.”
He laughed. “Umm, no. My sister has the living habits of a wild animal. No one can survive in her environment. We can go to the UK. You accept the graduate role, and I live with you as a kept man.”
She wanted to smile, but reminding her of the job twisted her upinside. Against all expectations, and just as she’d given up hope, the NGO had sent her an offer. But how could she go? Her boyfriend’s life was here; and relocating like that was expensive. Where would she stay?
