The Marriage Transaction

The Aftermath

Kwabena often used silence as a conversational weapon to get the other person talking. Most people are uncomfortable with silence, and he used that to his advantage. Having the tables turned on him at his most vulnerable moment therefore seemed to be poetic justice.

As the silence unfurled, he watched Joyce's expression flit from anger to surprise to confusion, to mirth? She burst out into a full-throated laugh.

"Kwabena, of all the jokes you have cracked, you delivered this one the best. I actually almost believed ...". Her voice trailed off as she noticed his stoic demeanor. "This is not a joke, is it?", she asked in a sober voice. Kwabena shook his head.

"Hear me out." He stood up and began pacing the kitchen, his long legs making short work of the space. "I can't begin to imagine what you are going through right now, but somehow I feel some of your pain. Having to be reminded every day about what you lost cannot be easy, especially when everyone around you offers pity disguised as sympathy. A change of scenery would help provide a bit of distance from the situation, and with distance comes perspective."

Joyce's head nodded almost imperceptibly as Kwabena talked, and he took that as permission to continue.

If you agree, we would live in Chicago. You won't ever fully escape your mom's drama, but it will be severely mitigated with the distance, and I will shield you from any unpleasantness."

He stopped pacing by the kitchen table and crouched in front of her. "We know each other, perhaps not well enough to get married, but I know you well enough to know that we can make it work. I can promise you this. I would do everything in my power to make you comfortable. I will always be respectful to you, and of you. I may not always agree with you, but I will listen to you. I recognize it will be challenging to be newly married, and in a strange land, but I will be with you every step of the way".

Joyce sighed, pushed the chair back and stood up. Kwabena also stood from his crouched position. "I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted", she finally said. She picked up her bag, and slung it over her shoulder.

"Will you think about it, at least?". Joyce started for the door, and stopped.

"You should have thought about it, Kwabena. How did you think I would feel? Why would I commit the rest of my life to someone I barely know? How would I support myself in a country where I barely know anyone, and not sure how my qualifications would translate? What happens to me when you meet your soul-mate and want to marry her?"

Kwabena smiled at her verbal assault. "Give me just three years, Joyce. That is how long it takes to get permanent residentship. After that, you would be free and clear to pursue your life how you see fit. During our time together, you are at liberty to define the rules of engagement."

Joyce shook her head wearily, her back hunched and her voice low.

"That is a business transaction, not a marriage. Our families will not agree to this."

"They don't have to know all the details."

"You want me to lie to my parents?"

"I wouldn't call it lying. I'd call it withholding potentially irrelevant information."

"Kobs, that is still lying". Kwabena shifted uncomfortably at this. He was pressuring her to do something she felt was morally inappropriate. He nodded slowly.

"Ok. I do think that the omission would be justified. Don't you?", he asked. Joyce's feet shuffled as she stood restlessly by the door. She shook her body slightly, took a deep breath, and stood up straight.

"I am going back home, Kobs. I appreciate everything you have done for me, and all the time you have spent with me. I didn't think I could feel this light anytime soon, and I have you to thank for that".