ORE
The cell phone in her hand felt hot. It wasn’t a literal hotness, it was one generated by Ore’s mind. She had finally responded to Terry’s Facebook message that night at dinner. In the bathroom, a sudden recklessness had overtaken her. Maybe it was because her own husband had not bothered to check on her after her abrupt exit from the table or because being in such close quarters with Terry had ignited her attraction to him.
She never considered herself the kind of person to live dangerously, but could it be said that meeting and marrying Ramsey was an act of courage in itself? She had dove for a love that seemed impenetrable and healing while in the throes of grief and despair but instead, she had found…this.
Her mother’s demise had hit hard. She and Mum were closer than other mothers and daughters she knew, and Ore knew it was mostly her mother’s doing. While her contemporaries raised their girls with iron hands, creating distance between them, her mother was kind but firm. Yes, Mum had old-fashioned views and beliefs, but above all of them, she held kindness in high esteem. The reason Ore couldn’t go to her at the time of her assault was because a large part of her feared disappointing her mother. Even though Ore was her last child and only girl, her mother had made it clear that she still had high expectations of her.
Perhaps, Ore was realising looking back now, that this was one of the reasons Mum went to great lengths to hide the abuse from them, but most especially from Ore.
How, she wondered, had a woman so strong and secure in herself, let herself be treated the way their father treated her?
Ore could admit that while her father was kind and doting when it came to her, she had always sensed a simmering meanness emanating from him toward her mother. He never outrightly did anything in Ore’s presence that communicated aggression, but it was in the way he spoke about her, the way he disregarded her contributions. All things that Ore had failed to recognize as a child.
She remembered now being around other relatives, how some of their fathers often spoke highly of their wives, how they deferred to them in certain household matters. She remembered thinking that the dynamic of their household was just different.
As she texted back and forth with Terry, she wondered if this was her way of taking back control of her life the way her mother had been unable to.
Had her mum ever considered cheating on her dad? Had she ever thought the grass was greener on the other side?
Even as she had those thoughts, Ore had her answer.
No. He mother’s first priority was always them. The children.
Even if the thought of another man had crossed her mind, she would never have entertained the idea because she would have been thinking of her children first.
And that is why Ore was glad that she had been proactive enough to do what she needed, to ensure she didn’t accidentally get pregnant.
She guessed she was also lucky that Ramsey was intent on projecting the image of a successful CEO and attractive wife that he hadn’t yet begun to broach the idea of children or their lack thereof.
He was so clueless about the workings of a woman’s body. The first time they had spoken about birth control, he had simply said he didn’t believe in condoms.
“What?” she asked in alarm.
“It’s just not the same,” he said calmly.
They had started sleeping together by then and Ore was shocked. Granted, she had been perplexed by his assumption that she was ‘safe’ each time they had sex, but in her sex-induced haze, she had decided to ascribe no extra meaning to it. After all, she was insanely attracted to this man who had succeeded in making her forget her grief, plus it didn’t hurt that he was rich and wooing her with luxurious gifts. It had been irresponsible of her, she realized now, to be taken in by things like that and not ask the right questions.
“So what, we just get pregnant and damn the consequences?” she asked then.
“I assume you know how to be safe,” he said.
“I thought that’s both our responsibility?”
“I hear women do a better job of these things. I mean, I’ve heard women who get pregnant on condoms. So at the end of the day, isn’t it up to them to ensure no mistakes happen?”
It was the most myopic and naive take she’d ever heard on the subject and Ore had found herself laughing at his logic. Then, it had been cute to her, now it was just ignorant and presumptuous.
However, she could see now how his logic was helpful to her agenda. His insistence that it was her responsibility to be safe meant he didn’t question anything. It was a temporary solution to her permanent decision to not have kids with Ramsey, but she was always good at looking at the short term.
She sat in her car, reading through Terry’s latest Facebook message. She was glad they had kept it to Facebook; old-fashioned Facebook. Nobody visited Facebook anymore, these days it was all Instagram and TikTok. Sometimes Ramsey picked her phone up and went through her text messages and Whatsapp messages and even though he did it in a casual way, she knew he was paranoid.
Let’s have lunch. Tuesday at noon? read Terry’s latest message.
Ore felt her pulse quicken. She had been enjoying their text banter, there was something juvenile about it that reminded her of the days of 2go, where they hid behind avatars and dark blue themes.
Was she ready to change it?
I’m not sure about that. she replied.
I’m leaving town on Thursday. Heading to Durban for business. I would like to see you again before I go.
The thought of him leaving town suddenly made her feel sad.
Are you leaving for good? she dared to ask.
Maybe this was the end. Maybe she wouldn’t need to act on these feelings. Maybe he would go away and this would simply be a bump in the road that was her life.
I could.
What about your investments in Nigeria?
What about me? She actually wanted to ask.
I can follow them up from anywhere in the world. I don’t have to be here. Except you want me to be.
She read his message again. Looked up at the towering mansion in front of her that was her home. Sometimes she wished she could leave it all behind and run away, start afresh, make different choices.
Her phone chimed with a Whatsapp message. Benjy. Oh snap. She had forgotten to call him back. He had called her the night of the dinner but she hadn’t been able to pick up because she was back at the table and Ramsey had a thing about using phones during social gatherings.
Another message came in. Ramsey. Checking on her. Was she home yet? What was for dinner?
She sent a reply back immediately. He hated it when she didn’t respond to his messages on time.
Yes, she was just pulling into the compound. And she had told Aisha to make yam porridge and smoked fish for dinner.
Next she swiped to her chat with Terry.
Yes, she typed. I want you to be.
There, she had done it. She had matched his energy, had shown her hand.
She waited.
What now?
And waited.
Nothing. What the heck? Was he going to ignore her now?
Just then her phone chimed with a message. Ramsey.
She opened the message and her mouth fell open.
Ramsey had sent a single question mark in response to her last message.
Her last message that was supposed to be in response to Terry but had somehow ended up in her husband’s Whatsapp.
