Stay with Me

by Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀

It’s not that I’ve become attached to this place. I will not miss the few friends I made, the people who do not know the woman I was before I came here, the men who over the years have thought they were in love with me. Once I leave, I probably won’t even remember the one who asked me to be his wife. Nobody here knows I’m still married to you. I only tell them a slice of the story: I was barren and my husband took another wife. No one has ever probed further, so I’ve never told them about my children.

I closed my eyes, but tears still forced their way past my eyelids. Moomi sighed. “I have been good to you, I beg you in the name of God. Yejide, have mercy on me. Have mercy on me.” She held me then, pulled me into her arms and muttered words of comfort. Her embrace held no warmth. Her words sat in my stomach, cold and hard, where a baby should have been.