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“He’s a good man, and you could do a lot worse. Pedro has approached your papa to ask about your intentions. He is keen to date you.”
Aisha shuddered. “Pedro hit his last wife.”
Mama pursed her lips. “You are making this impossible, Aisha. When people imagine there is a problem, it attracts those with a history, and we only want the best for you and the best is running out. Pedro works hard and has a house of his own. There are worse men.”
“He has two children, and he will want more.”
“There is nothing more beautiful than children, Aisha.”
Would she shame her family by not having children and not getting married? She knew the answer was yes. On every count, she was guilty. But love shouldn’t come with guilt like this. She moved into the centre of the room to create space between them, defeated by her mama’s insistence. She ran her fingers through her hair. In her mind, the screaming tugged at the bars of the cage that trapped her, but she needed to remain calm and give herself more time to adjust. She shook her head. There would never be enough time to adjust to marrying a man. “I will think more seriously about Nicolás,” she said.
“I will tell your father to talk to Pedro and explain that you soon plan to get engaged.” Mama grinned. “I am so excited for you, Aisha. You will be so happy.”
Aisha went back to the stove and stirred the wax vigorously, rage increasing the pressure inside her head as the wax yielded to the heat.
She would make the candles until there was no more wax to cast. She would go to her room and sketch, and she’d think about Gabi and the green, wet landscape of her home and the English elms. The colour of life is green. “Don’t you see the wound I have from my chest up to my throat?” One line alone summed up how she felt. One day, she would claim her life and find release from the pain she suffered. One day, she would be free.
