Hungry

The alarm rang at exactly 4:00 a.m. Queen groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow.

It felt like she had only closed her eyes a few minutes ago. Beside her, James sat up immediately. “Get up.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “What time is it?” “Gym time.”

Queen stared at him in disbelief. “It’s four in the morning and I have to be at the office before 7a.m.”.”i am tired and sleepy” She closed her eyes again.

James pulled the blanket off her body. “Do you want to be in this relationship or not?”

The question immediately woke her up. Queen slowly sat upright.

Her muscles still ached from yesterday’s workout. Her head felt heavy.

Her stomach was already empty. “Can I at least have breakfast first?”

“No.” The answer came too quickly. “You burn more fat on an empty stomach.”

Queen swallowed. “James—”

“You said you’d do whatever it takes.” There it was.

The reminder. The promise she had made while kneeling on the floor begging him not to leave.

The memory still made her stomach twist. Slowly, she climbed out of bed.

“What about you?” she asked. James was already lying back down.

“What about me?” “Aren’t you coming?”

He laughed. “To the gym?” “Yes.” “No.”

He pulled the blanket over himself.

“I don’t need to lose weight.”

Queen stared at him. For a moment she wanted to argue.

Instead, she simply nodded. Five minutes later she was leaving the apartment while James drifted back to sleep.

The gym was nearly empty.

Only a few people occupied the treadmills. Most of them looked energized.

Motivated. Determined. Queen felt none of those things.

She felt hungry. She climbed onto a treadmill and started walking.

After ten minutes her stomach growled. After twenty minutes she felt dizzy.

After thirty minutes she wondered if she might actually pass out.

Her phone buzzed. James. How’s the workout?

Queen quickly replied. I’m tired. His response arrived immediately.

Good. That means it’s working. She stared at the message.

Then put her phone away and continued walking.

By the time she reached work, she was exhausted. She hadn’t eaten.

She hadn’t properly slept. And she still had an entire workday ahead of her.

Her stomach growled again. She reached for her bag.

Inside was the apple she had packed the night before.

Before she could take a bite, her phone buzzed.

James. Again. Did you eat anything?

Queen sighed. Not yet.

A few seconds later:

Good. Try to hold out until lunch.

Her stomach immediately protested. I’m hungry. The typing bubble appeared.

Then: Eat cucumber.

Queen stared at the message.

Just cucumber? Yes. It’s mostly water. She looked at the apple. Then at the message.

Slowly, she put the apple away.

Around noon, Ava appeared at her office carrying two takeaway bags.

The smell hit Queen immediately. Jollof rice. Fried chicken.

Plantain. Her stomach practically screamed. Ava narrowed her eyes.

“When was the last time you ate?” Queen hesitated.

That was enough to answer. “Oh my God.”

“Ava—” “No.”

Ava dropped into the chair opposite her desk. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean absolutely not.” Queen rubbed her forehead.

“I’m trying to lose weight Ava, I have a wedding I must attend and for me to attend I have to lose a bit of weight.”

“By  starving Ava replied??” Ava stared at her.

Then slowly reached across the desk and grabbed her phone. “Ava.”

Too late. She was already reading James’s messages.

The longer she read, the angrier she became. “‘Eat cucumber’?”

Queen winced. “‘Drink water if you’re hungry’?” More silence.

“‘A hungry stomach is a shrinking body’?” Ava looked horrified.

“Is this man okay?” 

“He’s helping me.” Ava slammed the phone onto the desk.

“No.” Several coworkers looked over.

She didn’t care. “This is not helping.”

“He’s trying to kill you.” “He is controlling you.”

Queen immediately shook her head. “No.”

“Yes.” “No.” “Queen.”

Ava leaned forward.  Her voice softened.

“When was the last time you ate because you were hungry and not because James allowed it?”

Queen opened her mouth. Then closed it again. Because she honestly couldn’t remember.

Ava the boss ask to send for you, her colleague said.

That evening, Queen returned home exhausted. The moment she stepped inside, James was already at her apartment smiling. “Perfect.”

Something about that smile made her nervous. “What?”

“I’ve been craving spaghetti.” Queen blinked. “Okay.”

“Can you make some?” She stared at him. For a second she thought he was joking.

He wasn’t. “James.” “What?” “I haven’t eaten all day.” He shrugged. “So eat cucumber while you cook.”

Queen laughed. A broken sound. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” James was already scrolling through his phone. As though this conversation was completely normal.

As though asking a starving woman to prepare food she wasn’t allowed to eat made perfect sense.

Slowly, Queen walked into the kitchen.

She chopped onions.

Prepared the sauce. Boiled the pasta. Cooked the meat. The smell was torture.

Her stomach growled so loudly she thought she might cry. James wandered into the kitchen halfway through. “That smells good.”

Queen forced a smile. “I’m glad.” “You aren’t eating any, right?”

The question stunned her. “What?” “The pasta.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You know how many calories are in that?”

Queen looked at the pot. Then at him. Then back at the pot.

“No.” “Exactly.” He kissed her forehead.

“That’s why I’m looking out for you.” Looking out for her. The phrase made her feel sick.

An hour later, James sat comfortably at the dining table eating a second plate.

Meanwhile, Queen sat across from him chewing slices of cucumber.

She had never felt more pathetic in her life.

The next few weeks followed the same pattern. Gym at 4 a.m. Work. Hunger.Cucumber.

Water. Gym again. Sleep. Repeat.

Queen expected the scale to reward her suffering. It didn’t.

Somehow, despite the starvation, despite the workouts, despite constantly feeling dizzy and exhausted, the numbers barely moved. Some weeks they didn’t move at all.

Other weeks they increased. Only by a pound or two.

But to James, it might as well have been fifty. The first time it happened, he stared at the scale in disbelief. “What is this?”

Queen’s stomach tightened. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

James stepped off the scale and looked at her. “You gained three pounds.”

“I’ve been doing everything you asked.” “Clearly not.”

The accusation came immediately. Without hesitation.

“I swear I’ve been trying.” “Trying?” James laughed bitterly.

“Trying doesn’t make someone gain weight, Queen.”

“I haven’t cheated.” His eyes narrowed.

“Really?” “Yes.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Queen stared at him.

Hurt. Humiliated. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying somebody doesn’t gain weight by eating cucumbers and drinking water.”

The implication hit instantly. “You think I’m lying?” James folded his arms.

“I think you’re hiding something.” The words cut deep.

For the next week, he questioned everything she ate.

Every meal. Every snack. Every bottle of juice. Every cup of coffee. Every single thing.

“Send me a picture.” “What?” “Of your lunch.” Queen blinked. “James…”

“Send it.” And she did. Every day. Like a child reporting to a parent.

Like a criminal proving her innocence. Nothing was ever enough.

If she ate a salad, he complained about the dressing.

If she ate fruit, he complained about the sugar.

If she skipped lunch, he told her to drink more water.

Nothing pleased him. Nothing satisfied him.

One evening, after another disappointing weigh-in, James completely lost his temper.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Queen stood quietly beside the scale.

Already knowing what was coming. “You gained another pound.”

She looked down. “I don’t understand.” “Oh, I understand perfectly.”

His voice was ice cold. “What does that mean?” “It means you’re sneaking food.”

“No.” The denial came instantly. “No, I’m not.” James laughed.

A cruel, mocking sound. “Then explain this.” “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” Tears burned her eyes.

“I’ve been waking up at four every morning.” “Not enough.”

“I’ve been going to the gym.” “Not enough.”

“I’ve been starving.” “Clearly not enough.”

The words struck like a slap.

Queen felt her heart break a little more.

Then James said something that made her blood run cold.

“Maybe I should put a camera in the kitchen and every corner of your apartment, i need to monitor what you eat.”

She froze. “What?”

“A camera.” His expression remained serious.

“That way I’ll know exactly what you’re eating when I’m not here.”

Queen stared at him. Certain she had misheard.

“You can’t be serious.” “I’m very serious.”

“You want to monitor me?” James rolled his eyes.

“See? This is why nothing changes.”

“What?”

“You make everything sound worse than it is.” Queen couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You want to put a camera in my house.” “Our house.”

“No, James. My house.” He ignored that completely.

“If you’ve got nothing to hide, what’s the problem?” The words felt suffocating.

As though the walls were closing in around her. As though she was no longer his girlfriend.

Just a project. A problem.

A number on a scale. James shook his head.

“I am trying so hard to help you.” Queen looked away.

. “I don’t know what else to do.” His voice softened.

The manipulation she knew so well. The same pattern every time.

Cruelty. Then concern. Insults. Then affection. Threats. Then love.

“You know why I’m doing this.” Queen remained silent.

“Because I care.”. “Because I love you.”

“Because I refuse to watch you ruin your life.” Queen closed her eyes.

Exhausted. Broken.

And for the first time, truly afraid. Not of losing James.

But of what she was becoming while trying to keep him.