That afternoon, while I was eating lunch, my phone rang.
The number was unfamiliar.
“Hello?”
“Is this Ella?”
“Yes. Who is speaking?”
A woman laughed softly.
“You don’t recognize my voice? I’m Nonye.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you want?”
“I thought we should talk woman to woman.”
I almost ended the call, but anger kept me listening.
“Talk about what?”
“Your husband.”
I closed my eyes.
“He is still my husband, Nonye.”
“Legally, perhaps. But things are changing.”
Her confidence was unbearable.
“I don’t understand why you’re calling me.”
“Because I don’t want you to keep disturbing Kelly. He has enough problems already.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“Your man is the one who married me. If he has problems, perhaps you should ask him why he created them.”
Her voice suddenly became sharp.
“Listen, Ella. I’m pregnant with his child. A child you couldn’t give him in six years. Do you understand what that means?”
