Chapter III
III
Eight months after they broke up, she heard Kalu and Amara were engaged. News travelled fast in Lagos. Mrs. K had announced it at church, an attendee had told a cousin, who told her mother, who was left to break the news to Monife.
Mo couldn’t even gather the energy to feel betrayed. She had thought she would be the one to defy the curse, but she was just another Falodun woman left broken-hearted.
There was a water mark on the ceiling, a small brown patch. She wondered where it had come from. The house was quiet.
It was eight a.m. Surely they would be headed to the church now, he with his groomsmen, Mrs. K in a separate car, beaming with pride.
She sat up and fingered the cool chain on her ankle.
She had thought many times of removing it.
But as she spun it around with her finger, she decided to leave it as a reminder of her emotional bondage.
Ten a.m. They would have announced them as man and wife. The door to her room creaked open. Ebun popped her head in.
“There’s food downstairs.” When Mo didn’t say anything, Ebun continued, “You should eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten anything in three days.”
It was true. Her head was fuzzy, her body lead. But if she ate, her body would come alive and so would the pain. Right now, it had receded to a dull throbbing at the back of her skull.
“Should I bring something for you?”
“I’m fine.”
And with that, her cousin was gone.
Twelve p.m. They would be at their reception, dancing with their guests. They were Barbie and Ken. Cinderella and Prince Charming. Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown.
It was the end of a chapter. And Mo was forced to look away.