Amechi sat under the mango tree behind the compound, the early evening breeze brushing his face like a soft apology from life. But no wind, no silence, no scent of rain-soaked sand could quiet the war inside his chest.
Since Oge's recovery from the hospital incident, something in her had changed—or maybe it was him who had changed. She still smiled, still held his hand, still whispered "I love you" in that sweet voice. But it didn't feel the same anymore.
The sacrifice he made—giving up his dream to travel abroad—was eating him up quietly, like termites in a wooden chair.
He remembered what Mama Emma told him days ago, arms folded, voice firm:
> "Nwannem, (my brother) love is sweet, but it shouldn't cost you your whole future."
He didn't answer her that day. He couldn't. His heart was too full of confusion. But now, those words played in his head like a broken radio.
---
It was around 4 PM when he decided to take a walk to Oge's street.
He told himself he was just passing by, that he wouldn't stop or check anything—but his heart knew better. He wanted to see her, to make sure everything was still okay. Maybe she'd surprise him with her usual hug and loud laughter. Maybe she was missing him too.
As he neared her compound, he slowed down, heartbeat rising.
Voices.
Laughter.
Familiar... and not so familiar.
He moved closer, staying behind the wall like someone caught between bravery and shame. He peeped through the space between the wooden planks of the gate.
There she was.
Oge.
Smiling.
Laughing.
But not alone.
A young man, broad-shouldered, wearing a white tee and designer slippers, sat beside her, holding a bottle of malt in one hand and tapping her arm as they talked.
His hand touched her shoulder. She didn't flinch.
Then her laughter—soft, familiar, dangerous.
Amechi's heart dropped.
This wasn't a cousin. Not a friend. This wasn't someone asking for help.
This was flirting.
This was comfort.
This was betrayal.
He stepped back from the gate slowly, like someone carrying a glass of water too full to spill. Not one sound. Not one scream. Just silence… and pain.
---
He didn't remember how he got home.
All he remembered was sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling, eyes open but blind to the world.
The fan spun lazily above him, slicing the air like the thoughts slicing through his mind.
> "Was I just a tool? Did she love me at all? Or was I just the fool who gave too much?"
For the first time since the hospital, Amechi felt real anger—not loud or explosive—but quiet, heavy, and cold. The kind of anger that doesn't break walls but breaks trust.
He picked up his phone.
There was a voice note from his friend Chisom.
> "Guy! That your babe oge, I dey that pepper soup joint for Corner Street. She and one guy dey play love like say na film. Guy, no vex say I talk… but you need to know."
He didn't reply.
He didn't even finish listening.
What was there to say?
Everything was now clear.
The sacrifice.
The silence.
The dream he buried like a dead bird, all for someone who was already flying away with another.
---
That night, she came.
Oge.
Wearing the yellow dress he bought her last Christmas, her hair packed in a puff, eyes glowing like nothing was wrong.
"Hi baby," she said, standing in the doorway.
He didn't answer immediately. Just looked at her.
"I missed you," she continued, stepping closer. "You didn't call today."
Still, silence.
"Amechi… talk to me nau," she said, laughing nervously. "Why are you acting like you saw a ghost?"
He looked at her, long and slow. "Because I did," he said. "And she's standing right in front of me."
She blinked. "What are you saying?"
"You know exactly what I'm saying, Oge."
She looked away. "Please don't start…"
"Start what?" His voice was steady. "The truth?"
She tried to walk past him into the room. He blocked her path gently.
"I saw you," he said. "You and that guy. At your compound. Laughing like nothing happened."
Her lips parted, but no words came.
"Same yellow dress I bought you. Same girl that told me she'd die if I ever left her," he said, voice tightening. "Yet, you're playing love with someone else while I'm here living with regret."
"Amechi, it's not what you think."
He laughed bitterly. "Then what is it, Oge? Tell me. Convince me."
"I was just talking—"
"And he just touched your hand for talking? You laughed like he's the one that saved your life in the hospital. Like he's the one that gave up everything for you."
Her eyes welled up. "I didn't mean for it to happen."
"But it did."
She stepped back, voice shaky. "I was scared. You were pulling away from me, acting distant. I didn't know where I stood anymore. He was just—"
"Comfort?" he asked sharply. "So, while I was dying inside, you found comfort?"
Silence again.
He sighed, hands shaking. "You wore a mask, Oge. A beautiful one. You made me believe in something that wasn't even real."
She wiped her tears. "I didn't lie about my feelings."
"But you acted them."
That line struck her.
He continued, softer now. "You know the worst part? I would've given up that visa a second time if you had just loved me honestly."
She sobbed, but he didn't move.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He nodded. "I'm sorry too. For believing you were ready for the kind of love I was offering."
She turned to leave but paused at the door. "So, this is the end?"
He looked at her one last time. "No… this is the beginning. For both of us. But not together."
She left, slowly, like someone walking away from a home they once believed in.
---
That night, Amechi sat with his mother outside.
The moon was full. The street quiet.
"You look lighter," she said, sipping her pap.
"I feel emptier," he replied.
She smiled gently. "Sometimes God removes things from our hands so we can carry better things."
He didn't say anything, but her words sat with him.
He looked up at the sky, wondering what version of himself he'd be now.
One with a broken heart.
But maybe a wiser one.
---
✍️ Amechi wrote in his journal:
"Love made me a dreamer.
But truth woke me up.
I didn't lose her…
I found myself."
To be continued in chapter 6
Please family remember to add to
Collection/library I love you all.