* * *
I rehearsed the words over and over in
my spare time at night. I rehearsed really hard so that when the time came, I
would say them out like a proud lady getting married to a man of her dreams. Now,
staring into Marvin’s eyes made me realize I would be getting married but with
a dark secret. I panicked. Marrying Marvin meant too many things. It meant;
marrying his bad breath in the morning, marrying his bushy arm pits, marrying
his stinking shoes, marrying his snoring! My head felt woozy and I almost ran
out of the church but I willed myself to be strong. I knew I could live with
all these.
When it got to the point I had to say my
vows, the words came out like a mewing sound. My heart froze, that couldn’t
have been me! I looked at Marvin. He was smiling so sweetly at me that I cursed
myself silently for trying to ruin our day. With a firm voice this time I said
‘I do’ with more emotion and with a deeper sense of commitment.
I enjoyed my day like every woman should
and I knew that Marvin would love me till the end of time. It was easy to love him, but for a long time
I held onto the walls I built around myself. But gradually like a miner he
brought them down with much affection, care and shoulders I have refused to cry
on, not because they never looked capable. I was afraid for myself and afraid I
might drown his shoulders with my unending tears.
I chided myself for trying to reminisce
at the wrong moment and as a way of trying to reassure myself that all would be
right, I rushed forward and gave my man a fierce hug that I knew would convey
my unspoken feelings. He understood and held me tightly the way I liked to be
held.
‘Honey, pink favors you most. Why not
try that?’
‘Of course dear. Wedding nights are
magical’.
My heart beat fast and it felt like
Marvin could hear me from where he laid on the bed waiting impatiently for me
to join him.
‘Let me put off the light dear’ I said
walking towards the switch on the wall. I never made it there because half way through
Marvin sprang out of the bed and made a grab for my buttocks, which he got a
hand full. He snaked his hands up to my waist and then to my chest to help
himself to my melon. But half way through his hands froze. He searched further
to be certain his hands weren’t playing tricks on him. Though I was backing
him, I could describe the look on his face and the whirling emotions in his
heart. It was the height of betrayal and selfishness. But I felt total relief
wash over me and for the first time since we started dating I felt calm.
‘How could you? How could you do this to
me?’ He asked turning me around with a manly force. I lacked the courage to
look into his eyes and I couldn’t bear to see the hurt in them. I merely cried
as the tears came down from the well of my soul.
Marvin screamed like a wounded warrior.
He turned and grabbed the flower vase sitting next to the television and
smashed it on the wall. His light skin looked red from hurt. He began to sob
uncontrollably. Something I had never seen him do. He sat on the floor and I
moved to where he was, on my knees.
‘I can’t take this Boma. I have loved
you like no other woman and this is what I get in return? Half… half…’ He
trailed off there. ‘It’s too early to get divorce papers! The next time you see
me, it would be about time.’
***
I have been married for thirteen hours
and separated. How worse can life be? I wasn’t meant to fall in love. I wasn’t
meant to feel. For a long time I told myself I wasn’t destined to love and be
loved. I was just meant to love so my heart would be smashed into smithereens.
I have had my heart broken fifteen times and by different men whom I felt could
love me if they knew everything about me, but I was wrong.
I have gone through a lot but I have
come out stronger. Not confiding in Marvin was a desperate attempt to salvage
my bitter life. I don’t regret my
actions, not now or ever. I have been a cancer victim since I was
twenty three years. I was told it was hereditary. The lump had grown large and
spread to delicate areas. The only option was to do away with the bad breast
which was the left one to save my life.
The journey from cancer was a long and
trying one and the idea of ending it seemed very appealing. All the men in my
life had rejected me. For a long time I felt rejected and vowed I would never
let any man come close until Marvin came and something in me changed. And I
made up my mind to keep him, no matter what.
On my wedding night, Marvin found out
while trying to make love to me that he was married to a single breasted woman.
Such an ugly imperfection that would stare him in the face forever… That day he
not only married me, he married my single breast, he married the ugly scar on
the left side of my chest, where a breast once rested. He married my deceit, he
married my nightmares. Two weeks later, here I am still. In my
wedding dress, perhaps waiting for my wedding again. But how far do wishes go? I
know that when next there is a bang on my door and Marvin’s baritone soars in,
they wouldn’t be bringing glad tidings. It would be to have our divorce papers
signed. Still, my nights are colder than what they use to be and the nightmares
have found their way back…
***
Knock! Knock!
Finally, the dreaded knock. I knew who
it was before his voice called out: ‘Boma!’
For the first time in forever, I rushed
to the mirror and looked at who I had become: a scarecrow. I had emaciated, had
my hair haggard, stringy like dreads. Marvin couldn’t see me like this!
Instinctively, I moved towards the bathroom then mid-step remembered: ‘What was
the need? Who did I need to be clean for?’
‘Boma! Boma!’
Was that anxiety in his voice? No.
Probably the residue of what he had taken with him. I walked to the door calmly and opened it.
Marvin stood there, a near direct male reflection of what I had seen in the
mirror a little earlier. He was in his suit still. His eyes were to the ground,
his voice really low now…
‘Boma, do you think we can continue from
that night once more…?’
I wondered what to say. It was our
wedding all over again. I wasn’t sure I would go on this second time.
What if
he did the same thing again…? I closed my mind and allowed my heart talk:
‘I do…’
The next moment, I felt myself lifted…
and I was in that lovely grasp that had formed my dreams once upon a time… I
hugged him back hard as if my life depended on it. It did.
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Debbie Iorliam (poet and short story writer) is an Editorial Assistant with SEVHAGE Publishers. She can be reached at geezmenow@gmail.com
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Email: ololade.olatunji@yahoo/gmail.com
one of my best story....**to all u writers out there** ur stories need not end sadly before the beauty taste of your writing is savored!
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