CHAPTER TWO

The Warning

By the time December arrived, Amara had convinced herself that Vince's trip home was nothing more than a visit to his parents.

She had no reason to think otherwise.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

The first few days after Vince left were strangely quiet. She missed him, but she wasn't worried. She had work to keep her busy, and her colleagues made sure she was never alone for too long. They were a loud group of women who could turn almost anything into a joke, especially when it came to their bosses.

Their bosses happened to be Vince's family.

That alone gave them plenty to complain about.

They had their own stories about the family, their own frustrations and their own private jokes. Amara had become close to them because they understood what it was like to work under people who could smile at you one minute and make you feel like an inconvenience the next.

She trusted those women.

They were the people she laughed with during lunch, the people she complained to when work became unbearable, and the people who could tell from her face when something was wrong.

But at that point, Amara wasn't ready to tell them anything.

She was still waiting for Vince to come home.

Then his cousin started acting strangely.

At first, Amara thought she was imagining it.

He was suddenly too friendly.

He complimented her constantly, found excuses to stand near her and seemed unusually interested in everything she was doing. He joked with her, smiled at her for longer than necessary and sometimes spoke to her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

Amara brushed it off.

She didn't think he wanted to sleep with her.

She certainly didn't think he was trying to become involved with her.

She assumed he was simply being friendly.

Until the day he finally told her the truth.

It was the day before Vince's wedding.

Amara had been going about her day as usual when Vince's cousin approached her.

"Amara, we need to talk."

She looked at him suspiciously.

"About what?"

"About Vince."

The moment he said his name, Amara's expression changed.

"What about him?"

He glanced around before lowering his voice.

"Do you actually know why he went home?"

Amara frowned.

"To see his parents."

The cousin shook his head.

"No."

Something about the way he said it made her uncomfortable.

"What do you mean, no?"

"He didn't go home just to visit them."

Amara folded her arms.

"Then why did he go?"

The cousin hesitated.

"He's getting married."

For a moment, Amara simply stared at him.

Then she laughed.

Not because she found it funny.

Because she couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're trying to cause problems between me and Vince."

"I'm trying to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"He went home to marry someone."

Amara's face hardened.

"Don't talk about my husband like that."

The cousin looked frustrated.

"I'm telling you the truth."

"No. You're not."

"You think his family sent him there for nothing?"

"His family is his family. They have nothing to do with our marriage."

He stared at her.

"Amara, they all know."

Her heart skipped.

"Know what?"

"Why he went home."

She shook her head.

"I don't believe you."

"You should."

"I don't."

The argument became louder.

Amara was angry now, not just because of what he was saying, but because a small part of her was beginning to wonder whether there was some truth behind it.

She didn't want to believe him.

Believing him would mean questioning everything Vince had told her.

And Amara wasn't ready for that.

"Stay out of my marriage," she snapped.

The cousin looked at her sadly.

"I tried."

Then he walked away.

Amara stood there, breathing heavily.

She wanted to call Vince immediately.

But she didn't.

Instead, she went back to work.

She smiled when someone spoke to her.

She laughed when her colleagues made jokes.

She pretended nothing had happened.

But that night, when she was alone, the words came back.

He's getting married.

Amara opened a bottle.

She drank.

She didn't drink because she was celebrating.

She drank because she wanted her mind to become quiet.

That weekend, she drank again.

Nobody knew.

She still went to work during the week and behaved as though everything was normal. She still laughed with the girls. She still complained about their bosses. She still answered questions when people asked about Vince.

"He's still away?"

"Yes."

"When is he coming back?"

"Soon."

She kept the lie going because she didn't know what else to do.

Then Vince called.

It was a video call.

Amara looked at the screen and smiled automatically.

For one foolish second, she was happy to see him.

She answered.

"Hi."

Vince smiled.

That was the first thing she noticed.

He looked happy.

He was dressed differently from the way she had ever seen him dressed for an ordinary day. His clothes were formal, carefully chosen. Behind him was an unfamiliar setting, filled with people and movement.

Amara's smile disappeared.

"Where are you?"

Vince didn't answer immediately.

He simply smiled at her.

And then she saw enough.

She didn't need an explanation.

She didn't need someone to tell her what was happening.

The cousin had been telling the truth.

Vince was getting married.

Her husband was standing somewhere in his hometown, dressed for another woman's wedding.

Amara couldn't speak.

She stared at him.

Vince was still smiling.

A happy smile.

Not an uncomfortable smile.

Not a guilty smile.

A genuinely happy one.

And somehow, that was the part that broke something inside her.

She wanted him to look ashamed.

She wanted him to look afraid.

She wanted him to look like he understood what he was doing to her.

Instead, he looked happy.

Amara said nothing.

She simply ended the call.

The screen went black.

For several seconds, she continued staring at her reflection in the dark phone screen.

Still, there were no tears.

She couldn't cry.

She couldn't even understand what she was feeling.

Then everything came back to her.

Six months.

They had dated for only six months before getting married.

Six months.

She remembered how quickly everything had happened.

She remembered believing that their marriage meant something because surely nobody married someone they didn't love.

She remembered how they lived separately and mostly saw each other on weekends.

She remembered visiting him at work and waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing while he barely paid attention to her.

She remembered all the times she had made excuses for him.

He's busy.

He's tired.

He's working.

She remembered every time she had wanted more affection and convinced herself that she was asking for too much.

And suddenly, all those memories looked different.

What if he had never loved her?

What if she had only been useful to him?

What if the marriage had been about getting the permit he needed so he could return home and build the life he actually wanted?

Amara pressed her hand against her chest.

The pain was unbearable.

But still, she didn't cry.

She went to bed that night without telling anyone.

The next morning, she woke up with swollen eyes despite having shed almost no tears.

It was December.

Everyone was getting ready for the festive season. The streets were busy, people were making plans, and the workplace was filled with conversations about Christmas.

But Amara felt like she was watching the world from outside herself.

She got dressed for work.

Only this time, she didn't dress the way she usually did.

Normally, Amara was careful about what she wore because she worked for Vince's family. She always wanted to look respectable. She didn't want anyone to have a reason to complain about her.

She had spent so much time trying to be the perfect wife.

The perfect daughter-in-law.

The respectful employee.

That morning, she looked at herself in the mirror and thought about how none of it had protected her.

So she changed.

She chose clothes she actually wanted to wear.

She fixed her hair differently.

For the first time in a long time, she dressed for herself.

When she arrived at work, her colleagues immediately noticed.

One of them looked her up and down.

"Amara?"

She stopped.

"What?"

"What's going on with you?"

Another colleague laughed.

"Something happened."

Amara tried to smile.

"I'm fine."

They looked at each other.

They knew she wasn't.

One of them pulled her aside.

"Tell us."

Amara looked at the women she had spent so much time with.

For days, she had carried the secret alone.

She had drunk alone.

She had cried alone.

She had pretended everything was fine.

But she couldn't do it anymore.

Her voice broke.

"Vince got married."

The room went silent.

"What?"

Amara swallowed.

"He got married."

One of the women stared at her.

"To who?"

"I don't know."

"How do you know?"

"He called me."

They looked confused.

"Called you?"

"On video."

Amara's eyes filled with tears.

"I saw him."

She finally let herself cry.

"He was dressed for the wedding."

The women gathered around her.

And then the words came pouring out.

She told them about the cousin.

She told them about the warning.

She told them she hadn't believed him.

She told them about Vince's call.

And finally, she told them about the smile.

"That's what I can't forget," she whispered. "He looked so happy."

One of her colleagues wrapped her arms around her.

"You didn't deserve that."

Amara closed her eyes.

For the first time since the call, she allowed someone else to hold her while she cried.

Her colleagues had always hated working for Vince's family.

Now they understood why Amara had been so determined to make the marriage work.

She hadn't just lost a husband.

She had lost the future she thought she was building.

And somewhere beneath the heartbreak, something else was beginning.

Amara was beginning to understand that she couldn't spend the rest of her life trying to earn a place in a family that had never wanted her there.

She just didn't know yet where she would go.

Or who she would become.

She certainly didn't know that, while she was grieving Vince, another man was about to enter her life.

A man she would first know only by a name that wasn't even his own.