“Okay”,he continued typing whatever he had been on all day.
“Stop glaring at my poor face”,he stated, still typing away.
“Well tell your poor face to get out of the way. I’m trying to admire that design on the wall.”
I could make out a smirk.
“You’re a bad liar madam. You are mad at me because you feel I don’t care about what you wanted to say. Sorry to burst your bubble, I do care. I just really have to finish this proposal before no…”
“Yan yen yan. Did I tell you I cared about whatever you were doing? I only wanted to ask what you would want for lunch and here you are calling me a liar”,I cut in angrily.
I don’t even know why I’m pissed off.
Everything and everyone just pisses me off these days.
Including his mother whom was what I initially wanted to talk to him about.
“Oh-kay. Suit yourself then.”
He stood up to leave the room.
“It’s your mum.”
A wary look on his face.
“And what about her?”
“When is she going back to her home?”
“Are you saying I should ask my mother to leave my house?”
“Our house”,I corrected.
“This is my home and it’s my rules and she’s my mother and you have no right to insinuate her when she should leave.”
It’s been three months since our Nika’h (Wedding) and never has he ever spoken to me in this manner for once during these months.
I know some days we get along like civil people .
Somedays we get along like friends.
And somedays, like completely total strangers.
Today like this now, na like sworn enemies.
And it’s not even my fault.
I just asked a question.
An innocent one.
Okay maybe not so innocent.
But then, the woman gives me one helluva hard time the moment her son steps out of the house or isn’t looking in our direction.
I did a change of service after much persuasion from my mother from Abuja to Lagos since that was where my husband had a permanent residence.
Luckily for me I was posted to a school again.
Every afternoon after I get home, she complains about what I cooked for breakfast then demand that I cook one unusual delicacy for lunch.
But then one taste of the dish, she pushes the plate away saying she suddenly lost her appetite.
As if that’s not enough, she would then ask me to head over to her shop and stay with the sales girl there till six in the evening before she calls me to head back home before my husband arrives in order to prepare dinner.
I decided to feign illness one afternoon after I got home from school.
To be honest I had a really long day at school for starters so it wasn’t that hard to pull a long face.
Poor dear me thought my oh sweet mother-in-law would have pity on me.
I was shocked when she started crying and said her son got married to a heartless wench and she would eventually die of hunger if he didn’t send me out of the house.
No one told me before I immediately begged her to stop crying and did my usual routine.
Don’t forget I have other house chores.
These and much more are what I have to endure.
I am frustrated as hell and my so called supposed to be caring and understanding husband just worsened matters by taking sides with her.
He hasn’t even heard MY side!
I huff out loud before raising a hand to indicate a request for silence.
He seemed taken aback.
“What kind of sick excuse do I have as a husband?? I asked a question and you started ranting on and on about owning a structure of sand and cement. Do you think I’m stupid or something??! I am frustrated as hell Mus’ab. Your mother has turned me into a modern day slave and I decided to keep freaking quiet about it. I kept quiet Mus’ab. I k e p t quiet. You don’t care about me. The feeling is mutual. But when you married me you didn’t tell my family your mother would turn me to a personal maid.”
I pause to catch my breath.
“Now I need you as I would need oxygen to tell me when she is leaving. This instant.”
I need a drink
He continued to stare at me like I suddenly grew horns.
Just as I was about to explode with anger, he dragged me with full force out of the room.
I was too stunned to ask where we were heading.
On and on we weaved around the house till we stopped in front of a familiar door.
His mother’s door.
He knocked fast and hard.
I pity the poor door.
That was a rhyme
I grinned at my peevish thoughts before his glare shut me up fast.
As he was about to make the third knock the door was opened.
His mother was eyeing our gripped hands before her eyes found their way to his face in a questioning manner.
“Walaykum salaam my dear. What brings you to my room this hot afternoon?”
He suddenly looked unsure of himself.
“Mus’ab I asked a question.”
“Um it’s nothing serious mum. Tisha and I just wanted to tell you we would be going on a date so you shouldn’t bother waiting up for us as we might stay out late.”
She didn’t look too pleased at that.
I thought I detected a flash of anger and disgust in her eyes before it quickly got masked with a fake smile.
Note the word.
“Alright my dear. Don’t stay out too late okay?”
And I’m treated as an invisible noble once aga…wait did he just say a date??!
What happened to asking her about my accusations??
By the time I wrap my mind around the fact that we’re outside the house and now in his car, he had started driving.
“Hey hey hold on hot shot. Where do you think you’re taking me to? You staged the date so you can stage a wife to go with you. Not me.”
He started the ignition.
Did he just ignore me??
“Did you just ignore me??!!”
He started the engine.
“You must be nuts if you think I’m going with you.”
I made to open the door on my side only to discover he had put on child lock on it.
I looked up to find him suppressing a laugh.
By now we’ve left the compound and heading out of the estate where we reside.
“I am so going to kill you Mus’ab Abd’Rahman”, I muttered.