Cold At Dusk

Chapter Twenty five

Timothy helped  Kamsi carry in the bags to the kitchen from the gate. She had wanted to cook but she had no appetite and her reason for cooking could not be her husband. She brought out a bowl of Ukazi soup from the freezer and microwaved it then she put it in a flask. She made no swallow before leaving the kitchen, leaving whoever had the  soup to sort out himself.

Without going upstairs, she entered one of the guest rooms down stairs. It was the one she packed her materials for painting. She would have loved to use the study room but it was a place Mark stayed often especially on nights he was ignoring her.

This guest room  had bed in it and a wooden cupboard close to the window. It was high enough to serve as a table. She opened up all the windows to let in a sufficient amount of light. She knew the natural light would fade soon as it was close to evening so she put on the bright fluorescent lights in the room. Positioning her canvas on the cupboard she started to draw.. Giving light strokes to the canvas without meaning at first till she realized what she wanted to paint.

She stood infront of the canvas, trying not to feel anything but the need to draw. She shut her mind and locked up her emotions, believing she had cried too much than was healthy for one human.

She did not notice when outside got dark as she stood infront of the canvas. All her concentration was in the art she was bringing to life as she added colours to highlight the half moon in the night. She ran her  brush marking the edges of palm trees in her drawing giving them a darker shade to highlight their presence in the darkness.

She heard the sound of the gate opening and she walked to the front door. She opened the front door and returned to her painting. Standing for so long caused her some aching so she lay on the bed facing the stationary fan for a while before she returned to her painting with new determination. She did not learn it, drawing.. It was a natural gift. The walls of the University classroom only enhanced it.

She was still marking the lines around the trees in her drawing when Mark walked into the room. She had heard the sound of his leather slippers as it descended the stairs. He seemed to have gone to the kitchen before he finally walked into the room.

"Baby" he called then sat on the bed and watched as she worked on her painting in silence.

"You have started painting again? " he asked. He had not been expecting her silence. It would have been easier for him if she said something so he would know what to say in his defense.

"Today was very stressful. Our work load today was something else but we survived. After work, I had to give a colleague a lift since it was.. "

He was interrupted by Kamsi's laughter. A short laugh that came out like a scoff. She wanted to look at him but she knew what she would see still she dared. He looked just like himself, like the faithful husband she thought he was. She could not help wondering how many times he had lied to her with that face and she believed.

"How was your own day? " he asked after a long silence of contemplating on the next thing to say.

Her painting was just the trees and a half moon beyond the trees  without the stars. She looked for a smaller brush to paint the tiny stars ignoring Mark's question.

" Was your own day stressful? " he asked. His eyes moved with every of her movement.

She let out a sigh. She was going to cry no more. She realized Mark derived pleasure from seeing her in pain and she was not going to entertain him any longer.

"I went to the market after work today " she spoke. She turned so he could be seeing her face and she, his.
" I came out from the market and as I waited for a bike to take me home, I saw you. I flagged you down as you drove past me but you did not stop because you were carrying your colleague " She ended with making quotation marks in the air with her fingers as she said, 'Colleague'

Mark shook his head and laughed like she had said something unbelievable.

"firstly, I told you it was my colleague and secondly, I did not see you. I can not see my wife on the road and ignore her na. Are you even hearing yourself? " He said.

Kamsi would have believed him if she was still the woman she was before she landed on the floor with her head and tended to her pains alone. She was no longer that woman and Mark did not realize it yet. She turned back to her painting and began to paint the little stars close to the moon.

" I bought you fish. I noticed you love it so much these days " he said.

She shook her head slightly with a laugh. " Your soup is on the dining. Use your fish and eat it "

As mild as her words were, it shocked him and stilled all of him. He had never met his wife being cold to him. He had never met the woman he met in the guest room before as a fact. This woman was different from the Kamsi that always displayed her emotions before him like goods for sale.

" I will be in the room after eating " he said before leaving the room.

Kamsi moved to the bed and lay letting the tears fall one last time, she thought . His lies had sounded like the truth she used to believe . It hurt all of her to know that the man she had put her happiness on hold for all her years of marriage only knew how to be selfish, controlling, a core dictator without those principles he always spoke of having.

Mark waited for her to walk into the room that night but she did not. She had gone to her own room which she never used until that night . Clothes were piled on the bed so she pushed it closer to the wall to make space for herself. She hugged one of her pillows under the duvet. The cold that night was much but she loved it, she loved that it made her to forget, to loose herself in sleep.