Alacrimia | √

Chapter Thirty

05:37pm, October15,
Ikeja, Lagos State.

Slowly, she stretched her hand and picked up the white stick on the wash basin. Then slouched back on the toilet seat lid and turned the stick to face her. Swallowing saliva, she continued to stare at the two bold lines stained on it.

She later broke her stare and clutched the stick to her chest with both hands. By then worry had settled on her face.

She stared into the unseen distance and poked the inner of her cheeks with her tongue.

Well, am I not damned.

She stared at it again and lowered her head. There was no denying it, pregnancy tests were true ninety-nine percent of the time.

Well, I'm damned, she said to herself again.

She couldn't even start to think of telling him about it. The idea just couldn't be stomached. It would open a new can of worms she'd rather keep closed.

And it had been four days now, four days since she last saw or spoke to him. How she'd managed to survive that long, she couldn't remember. Everyday had just passed like morning mist; damp and weary then gone.

She hadn't gotten that divorce yet. No, she couldn't bring herself to do it now. She hadn't even bothered to call their lawyer. She just wanted to be away from him for now.

She didn't think he was going to get it either. So, maybe she'd get it next year. In January. Then she'd send him his copy to sign.

A memory of that day flashed by again and she shut her eyes as if doing so would shut it away. But it just got stronger.

She sighed and dropped the pregnancy test back on the washbasin.

She hadn't known she'd be leaving him till that moment he had called from the village. Yes, she had been doing a lot of thinking before, but all that time she'd rather hoped she would be able to change things for the better. Had made plans in her head, thought of all she'd tell him, and had even imagined him agreeing to everything.

Yes, she had been confused and worried, but she had hoped everything would change for the better. That she would see to it. He just had to deal with that village problem and they'd be back to normal and try to forget about it. She had expected he'd have a talk with the whole village, make them see the error of their ways and beliefs, even explain Adekunbi's condition to them.

But he hadn't. Instead, while she was busy thinking about how better their future together with their daughter could be, she had gotten a phone call. He had said he was postponing it, but it all meant one thing to her — he had chickened out.

That had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

It was there and then she had firmed her resolve. That wayward thought that had been lurking in the corridor of her minds, the one she had tried not to think about, had suddenly become the best option. She knew she just had to leave him. If she didn't, something like that would happen again and he'd likely face it with the same approach. And, God help her, she wasn't going to sit back and watch her daughter get in harm's way again.

Before he arrived that night, she had made arrangements for a lodge in a hotel in Lagos. That part had been very easy, because it was one of the hotels owned by her parents.

Then she had started packing, that part had been hard.

As she picked out her clothes from the walk-in they both shared she couldn't get away the sadness and grief that creeped up her like a spider in a field. Knowing it was going to be the last time she would enter that closet, that she'd see his clothes or he himself.