Page 88 of Cursed Daughters
“Amara and I don’t have rough patches, we—”
“I’m not your therapist, Kalu.”
“So, I’m Kalu now?”
“Last I checked, that’s what your parents named you.”
“Call me Golden Boy. Please.”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “What do you think this is?”
“I don’t think anything. I came to talk.”
“About what? What could we possibly have to say to each other now? You messed it up. You messedusup.”
“I know.I—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. If you say you’re sorry, I’ll scream.”
He bit his lip. “Maybe I should go.”
“Maybe you should.”
They headed for the front door. But in the narrow hallway, their bodies were close and he really did smell so good. The scent was unfamiliar but no less intoxicating. She wondered if his wife had picked the cologne for him. He had a wife. But Mo’s body was humming. She took a step closer to him, then his arms were around her. She just wanted to…to see if he tasted the same. She was trembling. What would she do if he drew back? She put her lips to his neck and gently, quickly licked. It was possible that he hadn’t even felt it. He stood perfectly still. She did it again, applying more pressure with her lips, lingering for longer. He took a step back then, and she felt her heart drop. But his hand quickly gripped her chin, lifting her head. There were tears in his eyes. He muttered her name and kissed her hard. There was an urgency to him that she had never experienced before.
They didn’t even make it up the stairs. At some point he lifted her dress and pulled her knickers down. It was all a blur. She couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to. He was hers. He had always been hers.
—
Afterwards, they sat motionless on the staircase. She was afraid that if she moved, went to the bathroom, adjusted her dress, he would disappear. They had finally consummated their love, and it felt glorious, tragic, bizarre.
“I…” he began; and she suddenly knew that whatever he was about to say would break her. She had to stop him from speaking.
“It’s okay. Just go.”
He got up fast, scrambling about, zipping this, buttoning that, in a hurry to run back home. But how would he behave once he got there? He had never been a great liar. But then again, he had also never cheated.
And then Ebun walked in. She stopped in her tracks and made asmall sound. GB froze, midway through buttoning his shirt, as if he was playing statues. Mo realised it was left to her to breeze through this awkwardness. She opened her mouth to speak—she would say, “Well, this is awkward,” or “Three people walk into a room…”or—
“Ebun, hi,” said Golden Boy.
“Kalu. You look well.”
“Thanks. You too.”
“How is Amara?”
“She is…well.”
“And your daughter?”
It was Mo’s turn to look stunned. He had a child?! He was staring at his feet as he answered that his daughter was also well. Had he mentioned that he had a child? No. But she hadn’t asked. She hadn’t wanted to know anything. He had really moved on without her. He had a child and Mo was merely a footnote in his life. It didn’t surprise her that Ebun knew, nor that she hadn’t mentioned it. After all, Golden Boy had become one of the many things that were not spoken about by the women of the house. Still, she felt an intense wave of loathing towards her cousin in this moment. Ebun was both judging her and crushing her in one fell swoop.
If Golden Boy had been frozen before, he now seemed to be trembling beside her. He turned to her, he wanted to say something; another thing she didn’t want to hear.
“Go,” she hissed.
“Right. Yes.”
