Page 108 of Cursed Daughters
“Who? Your mum?”
“Yes.”
“I think so. Eventually. How about you?”
“I’m not sure.”
He smiled again; this one was smaller, less crooked. She was learning he had different smiles for different emotions. He shrugged. “I don’t like the unilateral choice she made. She denied me a chance to be involved in my daughter’s life. I must admit, I am more than a little angry; but she raised you, and I think she did a hell of a job. You are sharp, thoughtful, kind and confident; everything I would have wanted my daughter to be. God works in mysterious ways, yes?” He stood up, groaning as he did, and cracked his back. “This stool is for you young people.”
“I…I don’t know what to call you…”
“I guess Dad would be too weird?”
She tried the word, and it stuck in her mouth. It felt unfamiliar and awkward. She barely knew this man and the word itself was foreign to her. She recalled all the times she had needed a dad, and she couldn’t help but feel a little anger towards him, even though she was acutely aware that none of this was his fault. But still, his spirit should have whispered to him that he had progeny.
“Maybe, someday?”
“Okay.” He hummed as he thought of a suitable alternative. “What about Oba?”
“Oba?”
“Yea. It’s a title, so less…intimate. And that’s what I used to go by when I was younger.”
“Oba.”
XI
“I’m not Golden Boy. I am me. And you are you,” Zubby said.
A week had gone by, and she had finally picked up one of his calls. He’d asked to come over, and she figured she owed him that much. But she had decided what she would do, and she knew he wouldn’t likeit.
“You’ve been compared to Golden Boy for all of five minutes. I have sparred with Monife all my life. So excuse me if I feel differently.”
He grabbed her hands and held them, bringing them to his lips. “Fuck that. Eni, this is us. You and me. We can survive this. You know we can.”
She was tempted then, because he meant it, he really was going to defy the gods. Or Monife, at least. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were glaring and he looked like a man who was crafted with love. She could see who he was now and who he would be. And it was beautiful.
Her face was wet, but she pulled her hands free from his. “I slept with Funsho,” she blurted. “I’m sorry.”
He dropped her hands, and it felt as though she had been pushed into the void. “Wha—? Why?” He looked stunned, as if she’d just slapped him.
“I needed to know. I need to know that I can forge my own path, that I am not being manipulated by a dead—”
He turned and punched the wall of her room. And then he stuck his reddened fists in his pockets. “Fuck! You can’t blame everything you do on…on…Shit. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I’m sorry.” She had done it. She couldn’t take it back; she had corrupted the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced. She had broken off the thing that bound her to Monife, even more than her DNA. She had no right to cry.
“So that’s it? Our time together meant nothing?”
“I…” She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she knew that would mean nothing to him now.
“Was it good?”
“It wasn’t about that…”
His shoulders dropped and he started gathering his things together, defeated. “So you guys are together now.”
“I am not with anyone. I just…I am tired of walking in her shadow, Z. I don’t expect you to understand.”
