Loving Umar iv... The conclusion

TAYO
… The day nurse woke us up. “Agatha? What are you doing all the way here?” Agatha, for that was the child’s name, gave her a sleepy grin. “Morning, nurse,” she said, “I couldn’t sleep and so I took a walk. I wanted to walk so I walked. I was too tired to go back to my room. Agatha hugged me and said, “Love does not…” She scrunched up her face trying to remember the word. “Hurt”, I supplied the word for her and was rewarded with another bright smile. She hugged me again and climbed down the bed. Looking over her head I saw Umar at the door scowling.

TWO YEARS LATER
TAYO
I heaved a sigh of complete gratification as I sank into the bath tub. I was back home, where I belonged. The bathtub was filled with lavender scented water and bubbles. There was a glass of Champagne within my reach and Darwin Hobbs’s He’s Able was straining out softly from the overhead speakers. The lights were off in the bathroom and there were scented candles lit everywhere. The candle light bouncing of the rose colored walls gave the bathroom a warm glow, the way the world looks during the perfect sunset.
The water felt great on my body and I felt all the tension gained from lying on a hard bed wash away into the heat of the water. I sipped my champagne and smiled as I thought about the wonderful day I had and the wonderful night I had ahead of me. The song ended and Asa’s Subway started playing.
As I toweled my self I recalled the scene at the hospital. That was the last time I had seen Umar in two years, and that was the beginning of my empowerment as a woman.
Umar had come to the hospital to bully me into obedience as usual. The minute I saw him grandma spoke up in my head, Now or never Tayo, you know what you ought to do. As if on cue, Agatha looked back at me smiled and said, “Love doesn’t hurt.” She waved and let herself be ushered out by the day nurse. Before Umar could say a word I told him that I was going to go along with his plan. When a confident smile threatened to break forth I told him that the marriage was over. I could not continue to live with a man that did not love me. He started to tell me the usual story about how he really loved me, but sometimes I could be so stupid and I got him so angry. I cut him short and told him, “Love heals. It corrects gently. If you loved me you would have at least owned up. I can’t explain it, but, somehow, now I know that if you ever loved me, you would never have tried to break me, mold me into your idea of a perfect woman. You would have accepted me, mistakes and all and encouraged me and made me feel secure. How can I feel dread anytime the man who claims he loves me draws near? Why should I be afraid that I would offend you? I should want your happiness, not out of fear, but out of, at least respect. I may not know what love is, but I do know it cannot be found in our house and for that reason I am leaving you.”
Umar’s face had contorted and a series of emotions raced through his eyes, then he said softly, “Where do you think you will go. What do you think will become of you. You are nothing without me?”
At that instant it was as though I could finally see my husband, I mean the real Umar. I realized he was afraid! I don’t know what he was afraid of but I knew then that all his actions were motivated by fear, and I also saw, sadly, that there was nothing I could do about it. I straightened up in my sickbed and looked my husband straight in the eye.
“Yes, Umar, I am something without you. I am Omotayo Ladipo. And I will survive, somehow, because I know that I might not be worth as much as a lot of people, but I am worth more than Umar Hassan.” Weakened by that speech I closed my eyes and said, “You may leave now. It would serve to your interest not to show up here again.” I turned away from the door and went to sleep, smiling.
When I got discharged from the hospital, I went straight to my grandmother’s house in Ibadan. She had willed the house to me and that was the place where I felt happiest. I quickly got a new job and I settled in here. I had learned at least one thing by loving Umar: It is sometimes safest to love from a distance. Wish them well, pray for them and by all means help them if they need it, but some people ought to be kept at arms length.
As I walked into my bedroom to dress up for bed the last song on my play list started up. It was Flying Without Wings by Ruben Studdard. I smiled as I realized that was what had happened that day, two years ago; I had taken a huge leap from the top of a steep cliff, and instead of dropping like a stone as I had expected, I had flown. Of course from time to time heavy winds buffeted me and made me long for the security that is marriage, but I held fast and slowly taught myself how to heal. I learned that I am a beautiful, special woman of whom there is no double, I also think I am quite intelligent because in the past two years, I have risen rather in my chosen field, rising to the rank of branch manger in less than two years.
Today is the second anniversary of my emancipation from fear, and I celebrated it by loving my self and the world at large. I spent the day at an orphanage playing with the children, cooking for them, bathing them, telling them stories and suchlike. Tonight I am pampering my self, learning to live with the thoughts in my head. My grandma? She must be resting in peace now because since the day I told Umar to bug off I haven’t heard a word from her. I am free and I am loved, if not by anyone else, then at least by myself and by God, and that is all that matters now.