The following morning hung over her like a thick fog of confusion as Amara got ready for the meeting. She had not slept much, and her brain was tossing her between fear and desire. The message she had sent to Farida was a lifeline, an opportunity to untangle the knots in her chest and answer the questions that haunted her.
As the café came into view, Amara's stomach churned. The morning crowd had thinned, so it was pretty quiet compared and normal. She entered, looking for Farida, who was already sitting at the same corner table where they had last met.
Farida's face softened at the sight of Amara and she offered a faint smile. Amara slipped into the seat opposite her, anxiety dancing beneath her skin.
"Thank you for coming," Farida said gently, her voice as soothing as a familiar melody.
Amara nodded and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug even though she hadn't ordered yet. "I wasn't sure if I should."
Farida's gaze met hers and kept on it. "But you did. That has to mean something."
Their conversation got interrupted by an uninvited presence. A figure loomed over their table, a tall woman with pointed features and very sharp eyes. Amara had never seen her before, but Farida was clearly familiar with the woman, and her face paled instantaneously.
"Farida," the woman said, her low and steady voice edged with menace. "I didn't expect to see you here. Or that you'd be so…comfortable."
Farida stiffened, her jaw tightening. "Chioma, this isn't the time."
Amara's eyes flicked between the two women, her confusion mingled with her unease. "Farida, who is this?"
Chioma smiled and slightly leaned forward. "I know everything about the extracurricular activities of Farida. And I guess you might be one of them."
Amara felt the blood drain from her face as she asked "What are you talking about?"
Farida stood up suddenly, the chair scraping on the floor. "Chioma, enough!"
Chioma didn't flinch; her eyes were still on Amara. "Your husband would not like the amount of time you have been spending with Farida, would he?"
Amara's heart raced as panic gripped her. "You don't know anything about me or my husband."
"Oh, but I do," Chioma said, drawing a small envelope from her bag and pushing it across the table. "Think of it as a warning. Stay away, or I make sure your so called perfect world will fall apart."
Farida reached for the envelope, but Chioma quickly pulled it back and smiled. "Ah, ah. This one's for Amara."
Amara's shaking hands reached the envelope. There were photographs inside, grainy, yes, but clear. She and Farida were outside the café laughing, touching, and very close to each other. In one photograph, Farida had just placed her hand over Amara's.
Her breath hitched. "How… How did you…?"
Chioma shrugged. "Just let say that I am gifted in reading the unspoken language of people."
As Chioma walked away, Farida reclined in her seat with a worried expression on her face. "Amara, I'm so sorry. She's…"
"Who is she?" Amara demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.
Farida hesitated. "She's someone I used to know. A long time ago. We were... involved. When it ended, she didn't take it well. She's held on to that resentment ever since."
Amara looked at the pictures, her head spinning. "And now she's picking on me? Why?"
"Because she knows it will hurt me," Farida said, breaking up her voice. "And because she knows you have more to lose."
Such words had heavy implications for Amara. Her marriage, her reputation, her meticulously built life, everything was now hanging by a thread over the brink of revelation.
Amara stood abruptly, her legs shaking. "I need to go."
"Amara, wait—"
"I can't do this right now," Amara interrupted, snatching her bag, and making for the door. She felt Farida's gaze on her as she walked out but didn't turn back.
The walk back home she was in a daze. When she got to her apartment her hands were shaking so bad that she could barely get the key in the door. After she was inside, on the couch, she clutched the envelope tightly.
Her mind raced with possibilities. If Chioma made good her threat, the consequences would be devastating. Daniel would probably never forgive her. Her family would disown her. Still, she could not bear the thought of leaving Farida, either.
That evening, Amara sat in silence while Daniel returned home. He greeted her as warmly as usual, but she could barely summon a smile in reply.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"I'm fine," she replied, too quickly.
Daniel frowned but didn't press the issue. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything."
As he vanished into the bedroom, buzzed Amara's phone lying on the coffee table. A message from Farida.
Farida: Please confirm you're okay. I will take care of Chioma. Don't worry.
Amara looked at the text message, her heart tightening. She wanted to trust Farida, but Chioma's threat was too big to ignore.
Her contemplation got interrupted by Daniel coming back into the living room. "Amara, is everything okay? You seem off these days."
She hesitated, feeling herself being burdened by the weight of her secret. "I'm just worn out, that's what I meant."
Daniel gave a nod as if to say his concern didn't fade. "You know you can talk to me on any issue, don't you?"
The words stung, and Amara forced a nod. "Of course."
That night, while Daniel slept beside her, Amara lay awake looking at the ceiling. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, fear, guilt, longing. She reached for her phone and opened the photos Chioma had left for her, looking at them closely.
Despite the fear they inspired, one part of her couldn't help but dwell on those moments they had captured. The look in Farida's eyes as she had looked at her, the natural ease of their connection; it was all so painfully real.
For the first time, Amara allowed herself to consider that Chioma's threat might not be the worst thing. Perhaps if the truth came out, it would force her to confront life.
That night, Amara lay on the ceiling, her head in a clutter of feelings. The envelope Chioma had left over was still on her nightstand, like a ticking time bomb. Daniel's steady breathing beside her only added to the heaviness of her thoughts. Here was the man society had deemed to be perfect for her, the man she'd convinced herself was the correct choice. But why did his proximity now feel suffocating?
She turned her head to observe him. His face, calm in sleep showed no sign of the raging storm that was inside of her. In that split second she felt what it is like to be him, to live in a world where none of the secrets he carried existed.
But she could not carry the envy forever. The truth about Farida and herself pummeled the walls of her mind, then threatened to burst out in ways she could no longer control.
Her stomach turned as the truth of the situation sank in. If those pictures got to Daniel or anyone else, her whole life would fall apart. Her marriage would end, her family would disown her, and the people she'd spent years trying to please would straight up refuse her.
But another, unwelcome thought intruded: Wasn't she already living a lie? Wasn't she already outcast from her true self, emotionally and spiritually?
Her thoughts raced to Farida, the way she made her felt visible, the way she awakened something in Amara that no one else ever had. That dream, however transient, had been more vivid than any actual moment she'd shared with Daniel.
Amara sighed and buried her face in her hands. It was like standing on a cliff's edge with the ground eroding beneath her. She wanted to hang on, but the possibilities of the unknown, for life with Farida, a life where she could finally be herself, were too strong to ignore.
Farida's earlier message blinked on the phone screen. Amara read it again, and her chest tightened.
Farida: Please let me know you're okay. I'll take care of Chioma. Don't worry.
She wanted to believe Farida. She wanted to think that somehow this could be put right. But Chioma's threat was only the beginning of the trouble. The real problem was the truth that Amara had been hiding not just from Daniel and her family but from herself as well.
Amara typed a reply but paused before sending it. What could she say? That she was scared? That she didn't know what to do now? Or that no matter what, she couldn't stop thinking about Farida?
Instead, she locked her phone and placed it screen down on the nightstand.
Sleep was not easy to come by that night. When it did finally arrive, it brought another dream that left her gasping for air upon waking.
In the dream, she stood in a golden lit field. Farida was there, her silhouette shimmering in the distance. Amara walked toward her, the earth tender beneath her feet. The closer she got to Farida, the more that anxiety in her chest transformed into a liberation overwhelming sense of belonging.
Farida smiled and extended her hand. Amara took it, her skin tingling where their hands met. They stood there, all by themselves, all over sudden the world became silent as if there was no anything else in the world.
Then Farida leaned in, her lips touching Amara's. The kiss was soft, electric, and sealed with all that Amara had been longing for. It was not just a desire but a freedom, an acceptance, and a love.
But just as the moment deepened, a shadow loomed behind Farida. Amara pulled back, her heart racing. Chioma stepped into view, her smirk cold and menacing.
"You think you can escape the truth?" was Chioma's voice with a sharp tone, cutting through the dream like a knife.
Amara tried to call out, but her voice wouldn't come. Farida's grasp on her hand slipped and the golden light disappeared, replaced by a stifling darkness.
When she woke, her cheeks were damp with tears.
Amara sat on the bed's edge, hands over her face. The dream remained, its clarity unwilling to diminish. She turned her gaze to Daniel, still asleep, and felt a wave of guilt. He didn't deserve it, this tangle she had spun, this life built on deception.
Her phone shook, and she quickly took it, fearing that it would ring awake him. It was another message from Farida.
Farida: I'm worried about you. Please talk to me.
Amara hovered her fingers over the screen. She wanted to reply, wanted to tell Farida everything, but the words were too heavy. So she put the phone down and walked to the kitchen.
The sunshine peeping through the windows felt sarcastic, as if the outside world was ignorant of the tempest inside her. Amara brewed herself a cup of tea and sat at the dining table, her mind racing.
It was impossible for her to keep on like this. There had to be a breaking point. Yet what?
Amara was roused from her musings by a knock at the door. She felt as if her heart would pop out of her chest and she was filled with fear. What if it was Chioma?
She hesitated, her breath in her throat, before she opened the door and saw who it was.
It was Farida.
"Farida," Amara whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "What are you doing here?"
Farida stepped in, shutting the door behind her. "I wanted to be with you. I could not just stay where I was any longer."
Amara glanced toward the bedroom and felt a rush of panic. "Daniel's home. He's still in bed."
Farida's face softened a little but didn't waver from her resolve. "Then we talk quietly. Amara, I can't bear the thought of you going through this alone."
Amara sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Farida, you shouldn't have come."
"And you shouldn't have to deal with this alone," Farida retorted, her voice rising.
Farida sat opposite Amara at the dining table, a reassuring yet overwhelming presence.
"Amara," she started, her gaze fixing on hers, "I know this is tough. But you're not alone in this. However things end up with Chioma, we'll sort it out together."
Amara shook her head, crying down her cheeks. "You don't understand, if Daniel finds out… If my family finds out… I'll lose everything."
Farida reached across the table and clasped Amara's hands. "What about you? Your happiness? Your truth? Don't you deserve to have a life that's yours and not the one everyone else dictates?"
The words crashed into Amara like a wave, shattering the barriers she had taken years to construct. She turned to Farida, and her heart ached with fear and longing.
"I don't know if I'm strong enough," she admitted. She barely whispered.
Farida tightened her grip on her hands. "You are. I can see it in you, even if you can't see it yourself."
Before Amara could speak, a noise from the bedroom silenced them both. Daniel's footsteps pounded in the hallway, and fear raced through Amara.
"Farida, you have to go," she whispered urgently, pulling her hands away.
Farida hesitated, her eyes flicking between Amara's. "I'll go, but please think about what I said."
She got up and walked towards the door as Daniel stepped into the kitchen doorway. His eyes popped in surprise at the sight of Farida.
"Farida? What are you doing here?"
Her heart racing, Amara tried to think of an explanation. "She… She came over briefly to bring me something. It's nothing."
Farida nodded, her smile was strained. "Just a quick visit; I am off now," she said with a smile on her face.
Daniel frowned but didn't press further. "Alright. goodbye, then."
Farida shot one last glance at Amara before exiting the door.