‘I also think that you should forgive Odenigbo,’ he said, and pulled at his collar as though it was choking him. For a moment, Olanna felt contempt for him. What he was saying was too easy, too predictable. She did not need to have come to hear it. ‘Okay.’ She got up. ‘Thank you.’ ‘It’s not for him, you know. It’s for you.’ ‘What?’ He was still sitting, so she looked down to meet his eyes. ‘Don’t see it as forgiving him. See it as allowing yourself to be happy. What will you do with the misery you have chosen? Will you eat misery?’
