80 The Meadow One, because of the tears that dripped from the corners of her eyes. Two, because I knew she would retort that my salary could never match up to Tobi’s. That it wouldn’t be enough to pay for her annual visits to the doctor or Tofunmi’s college fees at her school in America. So, I kept quiet and let her cry while I struggled to contain tears of my own. When Tobi came the next day, I didn’t argue with my mother. I ignored the hand that reached out to open my door and got into the car. Just before we left Ajegunle, I watched him through the side-mirror. My mother was thanking him. I hadn’t missed the quick manner in which he’d pressed some 1000 naira notes into her hand. I hated myself. But still, I left with him. For weeks I walk on eggshells around him. I wait for him to explode as he usually does at the slightest mistake or provocation. Too much salt in the rice. Too much pepper in the beans. The bathroom not properly cleaned. Money not adequately accounted for. Anything. But he doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t reach for me to throw blows onto my face and body. Not even when I did not come home one night. When I returned the next morning, he simply asked how I was and if I would like to try a new dish he had just experimented with in the kitchen. The food was delicious, but I ate it with caution. This new Tobi scares me. He buys me gifts: perfume, flowers, books. Each time I wait for something to crack on the exterior. Something that would confirm the fears I had have that he hasn’t changed. Since I could come up with no rational explanation for his behavior, I decide that the possibility of me leaving him must have scared him out of his wits. At night, he lies next to me, his body curled up against mine while his hands settle themselves
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