The Meadow Annual Literary Arts Journal 2021

82 The Meadow eyes. As much as this baby complicates things, it offers a tentative promise of hope. A promise of a new beginning. All that remains is for my husband to keep being Mr. Niceman and for me to keep being the submissive wife I am expected to be. I walk out of the bathroom into our bedroom. The dress I intend to wear to LUTH is spread out on the bed. I had planned to speak to Dr. Amadi, once more, about getting my job back. I hadn’t mentioned this to Tobi for fear of his anger rising out of the pit it has been hidden in for three months now. I fold the dress and put it back in the closet. My plan B can wait. I wait for Tobi at the dining table. Since he often returns rather late from work, I often eat dinner before him and go to bed. Today, I sit patiently in the dining room waiting for him to arrive so we can eat dinner together. I decide I will break the news on my pregnancy while he eats the fried rice and chicken I had cooked painstakingly. He comes home at nine forty-five. I rise up to greet him as he closes the front door. He doesn’t respond but simply walks past me, up the stairs and into our bedroom. I stand there, confused. Just as I resume my position at the dining table, he comes barreling down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He stops in front of me. His eyes are red and the veins in his neck threaten to break loose. “What is it?” I ask, rising slowly. He thrusts a finger at me. “You this stubborn woman! I was at LUTH today for a check-up. Dr. Amadi told me you-you’ve been trying to get your job back. Didn’t I tell you not to bother?!” It must have been his tone. The way he spoke to me as if I did not have a mind of my own. My response was sharp,

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