The Sword called Divorce (episode 8)

Izie stared at the small form standing in her doorway and the memories came rushing back. The cosy moments she’d spent with Marie while they took shopping trips together, their intimate talks that spread over long hours.
Oh how she loved this girl!
“May I come in?” Marie asked, after they’d gaped at each other for a while.
Izie stood aside and let her pass.
“I just want to know why.” Marie said, without hesitating.
They were standing in Izie’s small parlour, the atmosphere in the room was tense.
“I’m sorry Marie. That’s all I can say.” How could she explain to a fourteen year old the singular act that had taken place between her and her father?
How could she tell her that none of it was planned? That it had all been like a movie she was watching from a screen?
It had all started innocently. Izie had fallen in love with Mrs Babalola from the moment she’d taken her under her wings. A childlike fascination with a woman so benevolent; her kindness had drawn Izie in…even as she resisted, she found herself liking Nike more and more. It hadn’t been difficult to convert the moment Mrs Babalola preached to her; it wasn’t so much her words as her acts of kindness.
As soon as Izie saw she couldn’t escape the Babalolas; she’d allowed herself to be accepted as one of the family. Because she had just been laid off her job, she was content to hang around their home, doing odd jobs for Mrs Babalola. That was how she got to start taking lunch to Mr Babalola at his office.
At first, all she did was drop it off and leave. Then she began to linger, she hung around the office because she had nowhere else to be. Then one day, Mr Babalola had an accounting issue and couldn’t seem to get the balance sheets right; she’d volunteered to help and bam…she’d done it in less than ten minutes.
Everyone at the office was surprised and impressed. That was when Mr Babalola came to discover her love for accounting and her uncanny ability to solve complex equations in less than ten minutes.
She no longer dropped his lunch and left…she began hanging around and doing the company’s account. One day when she was done, Mr Babalola offered to buy her lunch as a way of saying thank you.
“No need for that, sir.” She declined shyly, feeling elated with the compliments. “I’m always glad to help.”
“Don’t tell me that.” He’d rebuked sharply. “People are being paid for such things. In fact I will make arrangements to get you a job. For now, let me treat you to a great meal. You’ve been a lifesaver.”
            She agreed eventually. It was harmless; the husband of her benefactor taking her out to a thank you lunch.
Only, it didn’t stop there…they had lunch the next day and the next and the next, she found that she enjoyed talking to him. He’d always been someone abstract to her, someone she should never think of talking to…but now, it was different. They engaged in intelligent discussions, talked about equations. He complimented her, saying things like..
“You’re very intelligent. How come no one gave you a job?”
They talked about nothing personal, it was always work. Accounting. Her passion. A few weeks later he got her a job as his accountant.

It had been once when she’d slipped. That day, she’d been doing some accounting as usual, in Mr Babalola’s office when her sister had called her and told her about the deteriorating state of their father’s health. She’d been so distraught after the call that she’d broken down in tears.
It had been an awkward moment for them both when Mr Babalola had pulled her into a comforting embrace. But it had helped. She’d felt cared for, away from the troubles of her world.
The truth was the thoughts of sleeping with him had never crossed her mind until the moment he’d kissed her inside her room.
The day had been like any other. By then she’d been working steadily for his company for two months. Her salary was impressive for a new staff and she had a feeling Mr Babalola had pushed some buttons.
That evening had been a sort of going away party for Mr Njokwu, one of their dedicated employees. The office had thrown him a small party and everyone had been in a merry mood. It was already 6pm when they all decided to pack up and go home.
Mr Babalola offered to drive her home. She hadn’t bothered refusing because she was now a bit used to his spontaneous acts of kindness and because she was also tired. Even then, Izie had no bad thoughts.
Not until the moment he was kissing her. That was when she admitted to herself what a good kisser he was.   It was like they’d both been possessed by something that night because she couldn’t seem to recall how the atmosphere had changed suddenly from friendly to romantic.
One minute he was saying good bye to her at her door and the next they were suckling each other’s lips.
Whether the experience was pleasurable or not, Izie had never sat down to think about it. The moment they’d dropped to the bed in exhaustion, they both knew they’d made a terrible mistake.
She had suddenly been awash with guilt and shame. Without a word, she’d fled to the bathroom and locked herself in, ensconcing herself in her shame.
She did not come out until an hour later when she was sure he had left. Only he hadn’t.
He was sitting on the only chair in the room, fully dressed his head buried in his hands.
“I’m sorry.” He said, the moment he saw her. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was a big mistake.”
She was trembling, her eyes red from crying. “We’ve sinned. I feel so guilty.”
“Izie, no. We can ask God for forgiveness. He will forgive us. We didn’t plan it.” He’d frantically tried to assure her.
“I feel so terrible. How could I do this to Ma? Oh…she’s been so kind to me! What will happen now?” She looked so small and scared.
“She doesn’t have to know, Izie. This is between us and God. We can pray now, if you want. Let’s go on our knees and pray if it’ll make you feel better.” He suggested.
She shook her head vehemently. “I can’t pray now. I’m so sinful, dirty, and guilty. Like the adulterous woman in the Bible. Please just go…I can’t talk to you anymore. Please just go…I need to be alone.”
And he’d left with so many unsaid words between them.
She’d avoided the Babalolas for two weeks while she wallowed in guilt and self-remorse. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she’d rushed to the church and confessed to Pastor.
She hadn’t thought the consequences through. Maybe if she had, she would have borne her sins alone and wiped away the memory of that night. And when she thought of that alternative, she wondered if she would have been able to stand in the presence of Mrs Babalola and pretend nothing had happened.
Still, with that singular act…she’d rudely torn a family she’d loved apart.

She dragged her eyes away from the spot on the wall where she’d fixed her eyes while telling Marie the story. There was a film of tears in her eyes as she finished her story.
“I’m so sorry Marie. I don’t know how to make it up to you.” She said, sniffling.
“I should hate you.” Marie whispered. “I should leave this place now.”
“I know. You have every right to hate me. What I did is unforgiveable.”
“Yes.” Marie said, stolid. 
“So what happens now?” Izie asked. She was at the mercy of this girl she loved so much.

(To be continued….)