Mark was in the sitting room with his legs on a stool and shaking impatiently. He was unsettled not just because of the spoiled tomato sauce he ate in the morning or because Kamsi did not return the previous night but he was unsettled because of a certain realisation which he always tried to stand on by trying to be in charge as always.
He had gone to the gate last night and stood outside waiting for any approaching car. So many cars passed by but none was his red Camry which she now used. He returned inside. Timothy was sitting with his wife on a bench outside the security house. It seemed like the woman did not plan to return to wherever she came from . He would have wanted to sit with Timothy because he just needed someone to talk to, not about his marriage but maybe electricity, the government and other non personal things. He waved at them as he passed and they waved back, greeting "goodnight."
He admired them. They sat on that bench most nights and he wondered what they talked about or did they just sit there in silence? Maybe Timothy updated her on his new job search or they professed love for one another. He held his head in his palm as he sat on the trunk of the car under the garage. It was getting hard for him to relate, having an alone time with his wife. It seemed like the last time was a lifetime ago.
He remembered calling her number several times but she never picked. His eyes must have been red from worry because he thought he messed up enough again for her to run back to her family just like the first time he slapped her. He later received a message from her:
"I'm not coming home."
And he quickly typed, "Where are you ? " but no response ever came till morning when she returned very early. He had opened the door and ignored her and she also did the same - did not even spare a greeting. She prepared breakfast of spoilt tomato sauce which ruined the taste of the rice that accompanied it.
He got up from his seat and walked to where he would find her, a room that could not be described as tidy in any way. Paintings were always arranged on the table or on the bed each time he went there. They were always beautiful but he knew that world was not a woman's world. It came with unnecessary attention that could distract a woman, especially a married woman.
Kamsi did not turn from her painting when he entered the room, though he noticed her hand still on the canvas before she resumed her work. He stood at the door for a while before he walked to the cupboard and leaned on it.
"You did not return home last night, " He said. He tapped his foot on the floor, almost noiselessly as he waited for her response.
"Are you asking a question or stating an observation? " Kamsi asked without turning to look at him. That was it, what unsettled him, the fear that came with the boldness she emitted, the fear that someday, she might leave and never return.
He exhaled heavily, crossed his legs at the ankle before asking, "Kamsi, where did you sleep last night? "
"I have never asked you that question. I respect your privacy," She replied quickly.
He sat on the bed and watched her back but she was not concentrating on her painting anymore. Her eyes were on the wardrobe at the side which had nothing spectacular to hold one's gaze but Kamsi stared at it like there was a new thing there. His eyes followed hers and then returned to her.
"We need to talk as husband and wife, " He said.
She turned on her stool and faced him. Her expression reminded him of the first day he had talked to her and said, "I'm Mark." her expression that day had been plain, bored, tired.
"I'm sorry for hitting you in the village . It's not in my nature, you know that."
"Is that all you are sorry about? You are always sorry these days," She said , folding her arms underneath her bosom.
"Kamsi, it was up to you to disapprove if I accused you wrongly but what you did was to pick a fight with me which only sent the message that I was right with my claims. " He said. He watched her throw her head back in laughter then she looked at him in seriousness, all amusement gone.
"So it makes sense to you to just accuse me of infidelity like it's a play? " she asked, leaning forward. "So I was supposed to cry to you, shouting I'm not cheating on you for you to know that I have been faithful? "
He met her angry gaze but said nothing and she continued, "You have cheated on me severally, times without number. That's what is disturbing you , your guilt makes you feel that I'm doing the same thing you are doing. You are unreasonably insecure."
Mark nodded, taking in all that she said. Not like, it changed the heart squeezing feeling he got when he saw her coming from the gate with Okechukwu laughing. But she was right. He had cheated. He was insecure but not without reason.
"You are beautiful, Kamsi. That's why" he said.
Kamsi laughed then blinked rapidly. " Why what? " she asked.
He shrugged and said nothing. He could not help remembering those days she was in University. She had been so naive that she did not even care about her dressing but was always ready to wear her big polos and trousers with sneakers. She had been a tomboy not in her steps but dressing yet she was beautiful.
Kamsi turned back to her painting and once again, he had just her back to look at. He looked at the painting she was working on and turned his face away to the door. He did not like seeing those paintings.
"The sauce you made, the tomatoes were spoilt and of course tasted bad," He said to her.
"Yes, they were spoilt," She replied.
"You are right. Maybe I'm insecure but I expected you to at least for once, deny my claims," he said after being silent for a while.
It must have shocked her to hear those words. She dropped the brush in her hand on the floor then turned to him.
" I'm trying to make us work, Kamsi. I do not want us to fall out of love and grow up like housemates,"
She sighed. "Are you horny ? "
He shook his head sideways then looked at her. "I'm trying to be better. That's all. I sent money to your mother to pay the hospital bills for your dad."
She shrugged. "Good for you. You have money to waste." Then she studied him with keen interest before saying the next words she had.
"I have things to do, my promotion exam is by the end of the month, I have paintings to complete, just so many things to do," She said then paused to breathe. " So I do not appreciate this conversation we're having right now. "
Promotion. Money. All independence. Contributory factors to the new Kamsi. He knew all this. He crossed his arms on his chest with nothing more to say and she returned to her painting.