Chapter 6: The Ring in the Grass

I know Yinka Olayemi no go chase me, but I still look back small, I no fit help am.

Street quiet, moon dey cast shadow. I hug myself for night breeze, tears dey dry for cheek. Even though I know he no go follow, hope dey—foolish, stubborn hope.

On my way to pet shop, I get message from Yinka Olayemi:

Phone buzz, screen show him name. I stare, finger dey shake, I no sure if I go answer.

[I give you two days to calm down.]

Words short, sharp. No sorry, no regret—just order, as usual.

[I no get time for your drama.]

I laugh bitter, pain fresh. To him, na just another fight, I go get over am.

When I no reply, another message land:

[Kemi need time to resign.]

I scoff. So na business, nothing more. Marriage don turn to transaction.

The next day, as I reach old house, Yinka Olayemi dey there.

Compound full, relatives everywhere. I spot am sharp for stair, hand pocket, dey look window. I pause for gate, gather mind.

He still calm, reserved, but I notice wedding ring don miss.

Finger bare, only faint tan mark where ring dey before. The sight pain me, another small heartbreak.

Only pale mark remain, reminder say Yinka Olayemi always control.

He decide when to wear ring, when to remove am—just another power move. My anger dey simmer.

I no suppose vex.

I remind myself say na me choose to leave. But pain and pride dey fight inside.

“Little sister, sorry oh, I follow Chairman Yinka come old house chop free food~” When Kemi waka from behind Yinka, I freeze.

She breeze enter, laugh dey fill room. Air shift, everybody eye go her side. I clench jaw, try stay calm.

She wear turtleneck sweater, but fresh red love bites show for neck.

Marks clear, bold, silent win. Belle twist. She adjust sleeve, pretend no see anybody look.

Kemi smile, “Abeg, make we enter first~”

Word sweet, but eye dey challenge me. She brush pass, perfume linger.

She glance Yinka, “Chairman Yinka get small cold, I go the bedroom go bring coat for am.”

She talk like person wey belong, voice light, tease. Fist tight more.

“You still wan wear that dark grey trench coat? I think say e dey for third side wardrobe.”

She sabi house, maybe pass me. I grind teeth, no react.

“Oh, your shirt suppose iron too. Remove am later, I go help you.”

Offer casual, almost like wife. Heart twist at their easy bond.

As Kemi waka fine into house, I laugh, “Your secretary sabi you well sha.”

Word sharp, but I no care. I want make everybody see truth for once.

Then I call, try sound calm: “Little uncle.”

Voice dey shake, but I stand tall. I no go let dem see me break.

As I talk, Yinka Olayemi face cold, like say e dey hold something back.

Eye narrow, lips tight. He turn, refuse see my pain. Always pride first.

After moment, he warn: “Amara, everything you get, na Olayemi family give you.”

Word sharp, reminder of my place. Shame wan crawl, but I no bow.

“If not, you fit survive with only that pet shop?”

He dismiss my work with wave. My sweat, my struggle—no mean anything.

“Even jealousy get limit.”

He sneer, dare me challenge am. Blood dey boil, I hold tongue.

That’s when I realise—na why he remove ring, bring Kemi come old house today: he vex say I slap am, push am away last night, and no beg or reply am.

I piece am together—pride wound, need remind me who get power. Kemi presence na message: “I control everything.”

He dey remind me say everything I get come from am.

House, car, business—all na him name. But my spirit, dignity—na my own.

But he no understand—I never want house or car before.

My dream simple: peace, love, maybe children. All these things mean nothing without respect.

I look am, remove wedding ring, throw am for ground.

It land for grass, lost like my hope. I no even bother look for am.

I watch ring roll small, then enter grass.

For moment, nobody move. Sound of ring loud pass any quarrel. I stand straight, no bend for anybody again.

Ignore Yinka Olayemi angry face, I waka enter living room.

Feet light, almost float. People dey murmur, but I keep eye for door. Nobody fit shame me for claiming my life.

“Grandma.” I half-squat, smile for Grandma for wheelchair. “I get something to tell you.”

Her eye wide, concern and pride mix. I hold her hand, squeeze small.

“I wan divorce Yinka Olayemi.”

Word clear, strong. Room quiet, every ear dey wait my next word.

As I talk, before Grandma fit reply, I hear teacup scatter for door—

Sharp sound cut silence. Head turn, eye wide. My decision heavy for everybody.

[Gbosa!]

Crash echo, final, no turning back. Old ways don break.

What I see next—Yinka Olayemi face, white like chalk.

He stare me, colour drain. For first time, I see fear—not anger, not pride, just fear. And I know, for that moment, I don collect my power back. One uncle hissed, another auntie started whispering, but I no send anybody.