NYSSA
For a moment, I believed it was a good moment with ‘im – Lysander kissin’ me, and then Kazmir asking ’bout what I would love to eat the moment I returned back to the house.
After successful attempts to not pretend, I couldn’t help but pretend. At least, this way I wouldn’t be caught in the act of what I had done. Me, kissin’ Lysander who I should stay far away from. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t just ignore or rather, avoid ‘im.
What if a camera captured us?!
“No, I think I am fine,” Kazmir’s words brought me back from my thoughts and imagination. “I am really sorry for hurting you, even though I didn’t mean to. Will you forgive me, my wife?”
I nodded and the next moment, he carried me in his arms. He took me to the bedroom and dropped me on the bed. After that moment, I rushed to the bathroom to get a bath and by the time I came out, he was asleep.
Instead of lyin’ down to sleep, I spent some time on the couch not so far from the bed.
A lot went on in my head but the more I had these thoughts, the more confused I became. In the end, I was dizzy and while on the bed, preppin’ to sleep, these thoughts did not leave my head for one moment.
The next mornin’, I stayed back on the bed while my husband hummed a song in the bathroom, under the shower. “Good mornin’, angel of my life,” he greeted me when he walked out, with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Did you sleep very well last night? I bet you did.” He smiled and took a seat on the bed temporarily.
“I thought you would love some eggs, so I made some for you. How ’bout bread and coffee? Or would you love some plantain?”
What was he sayin’?
Was he not goin’ to work?
My gaze shifted to the clock on the wall and I looked at Kazmir who walked into a pair of pants.
“Aren’t you goin’ to work?” I asked and looked at the wall clock before ‘im once more. “You should be wearin’ office wear and not this, Kazmir.”
He chuckled.
“I took the day off, baby,” he said and walked to the door before turnin’ around. “This is to make up for makin’ you feel some kind of way when it shouldn’t be so and I am sorry. Mm? So which do you want? Bread or plantain? Coffee too?”
“Anythin’ would do,” I murmured, wonderin’ what part of the earth the man came from. “Thank you, Kazmir.” And with this, I was on my feet. My legs led me to the bathroom for a quick brush after which I walked down the stairs, catchin’ up with the dinin’ room where a man sat, eatin’.
“Thank you,” With a murmur, I took my seat. “Isn’t your stayin’ back at home goin’ to affect us in some way? Money-wise, I mean? Also, don’t you think I should work under you or somethin’?”
He coughed, chokin’ on a piece of plantain.
“What did you say? Hell no!”
He coughed again and sipped some water from a glass. “You don’t have to work or do anythin’ at all, mm? I’ll handle your needs and everythin’ that comes with it. You just let me know when you need somethin’ and I’ll do what I can to provide it. Mm?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“So I wanted to ask somethin’, Nyssa. Do you mind?” He adjusted on his seat and heaved a sigh. “Do I have your attention?”
I nodded. If he didn’t have my attention, whose attention would he have?
“What is it?” I dropped my fork and met his gaze. “Is anythin’ botherin’ you?” I questioned and he dropped his fork also.
“It’s ’bout your past.”
“I thought you don’t want me talkin’ ’bout it, Kazmir,” I said with a dry smile. “Why brin’ up somethin’ I don’t think I want to hear you say?” My mood was ruined but my composure was well maintained.
His mood was ruined, also.
“I’m sorry, baby. But you said somethin’ that caught my attention when we went to a restaurant to eat for the night. And it got me thinkin’ we have some progress you don’t want to share, isn’t it? I don’t know, just sayin’.”
What was he sayin’?
“What is it ’bout?” I had to ask. My mood was still ruined but I felt a bit better. “What did I say? Remind me. Who knows? It could help me recall one or two things.” I cried and he adjusted a little on the chair.
“You said it’s been a long while since you visited that restaurant, Nyssa.” He said and I nodded. “How come you know it’s been a long time if you don’t remember your past? I am quite confused and need clarity.”
A smile on my countenance, and I adjusted a little. “I don’t understand, Kazmir. I haven’t been to a restaurant since I got back from the hospital and it’s been over two months. If I haven’t been to a restaurant for over two months, then it’s been a long time compared to my days before the accident.”
“Oh!”
He nodded.
“I believe you, but are you tryin’ to say there is nothin’ you have recalled from that part of your life?” He asked and I shook my head, wonderin’ also if there was anythin’ at all I recalled apart from bein’ the artist behind the paintin’ in the art studio.
Do I tell ‘im? If I do, how do I defend my point? No way, from the look of things.
“I don’t recall anythin’, Kazmir.” With a nod in conclusion, I picked up the fork and started eatin’ again. “The meal is nice. Thank you, too. But you should resume work as soon as tomorrow. I don’t like the fact that you have missed work three times in less than two weeks and it is ’cause of me.”
“I’m not complainin’, am I?”
“Well, I am.”
The next mornin’, Kazmir was gettin’ dressed for work. A look of satisfaction was written on my face as I thought ’bout what to do when he was away. As soon as he left, I watched a few shows before makin’ up my mind to go on with the paintin’ I almost made the last time I visited the art studio.
In the space, I noticed a few changes.
Changes I have ne’er noticed like the board stayin’ in a different place, and the table with drawin’ pens taken to another part of the room. Some drawin’ tools were missin’ also, and now that I thought ’bout it, I walked to the end corner where the bag of drawin’s was kept – takin’ out the piece from the bag.
“Wh-what happened to you?” As if the piece could hear me speak, I asked and got on my feet. How did the self-portrait break? The last time I checked, I had kept it in a very safe spot and there wasn’t supposed to be a development like this, so what happened?
I looked around the room, searchin’ for a camera and there was nothin’.
By the time I got back to the spot where the broken piece stayed, I was almost tearin’ up.
How did this happen?
Who else could have done this if not Kazmir?
Why did he do this?
What if he didn’t?
What if someone was playin’ games with us?
What if this person doesn’t want me to find out the truth – perhaps somethin’ connectin’ me to the past and before the accident?
I picked up the pieces and walked to the end corner where the bag was – fixin’ them back in the bag. This time around, I was very certain that somethin’ was goin’ on. There was a soul out there strugglin’ to make me remain in the present, but I refused to remain in the present alone.