I found this in my drafts folder dated October 2012. I’m not sure why I didn’t publish it. I am also aware that today is not Friday, but what the hey.
Wole wiped his mouth with the serviette that Nneka provided. He belched loudly. “We need to talk,” he said. He coughed and drank from his cup, dabbing at the sweat beading his bare chest with another serviette. It left pieces in his chest like pink dandruff.
“I know. You’re breaking up with me,” Nneka said. She pushed her food around her plate.
“Ah-ahn, where is this coming from?” The toothpick holder Wole had been reaching for slipped from his grasp. He started rearranging the picks, tapping the ends to make them level. Nneka watched him for a moment.
“So, you’re not breaking up with me?”
“Why are you talking like this now? Are we quarrelling?” He coughed again. “Please pass me the water.”
“Are you sure? It’ll only make it worse.”
He coughed again and again, gesturing fiercely for the water bottle. Nneka poured him some. He drank deeply and cleared his throat. “Look, you’re not getting any younger. I’m just trying to do the right thing here. It would not be fair to keep wasting your time with me, if I am not ready…”
Nneka’s fork clattered to her plate. She laughed. “And of course you waited till you had eaten from me one last time before you told me this.” He shook his head. The coughing started again. “Why did you not tell me this before your hands touched my body?”
“Nneka, you are too quarrelsome. You are paranoid and neurotic – always imagining things…” He thumped his chest.
“I see. And this is why you married someone else last weekend? Tell me, were you trying to do the right thing as well when you forced me to kill six of the children in my womb for you over the years?”
“Nneka…” He wiped at the corner of his mouth. His eyes widened when it came away red. “Nneka!” He pushed his chair back, clutching the tablecloth. The crockery clattered to the ground. He reached for his mobile among the shards. Nneka stood up, scattering grains of rice that had fallen into her lap. She kicked the phone away.
“I told you never to lie to me. I told you the water would make it much worse. You never listen.” She squatted until she was by his ear. “You should have listened to me.”