I blinked and forced a smile, lifting my gaze from the untouched plate of chow mein in front of me. The restaurant hummed with soft jazz and easy laughter, the delicate clink of silverware underscoring other people’s contentment. But all I could focus on was my own heartbeat.
“I’m fine,” I said, surprised by how naturally the lie slid off my tongue. I was getting way too good at this.
He smiled and reached for his wine glass.
Chukwuma was everything my parents had always described as perfect. He was handsome, successful, and also from a good family. He was the sort of man who looked right on paper and even better in photographs. Yet sitting across from him felt like watching my life happen to someone else through thick glass.
“You’re not eating, honey.”
The endearment made my skin crawl, though I managed not to flinch as I picked up my fork and took a bite, forcing myself to chew even though the pasta tasted like nothing.
We were at Tamberma restaurant, one of those upscale places in Victoria Island where Lagos society came to see and be seen. He had called it a romantic evening, his chance to officially propose since he hadn’t actually given me a ring. His mother had already called mine to share the news before he’d even asked, and I had come to understand that this was how things worked in his world.
Everything was planned. Everything was supposed to be proper. Everything was decided in advance by a committee which included his mum and elder sister.
I touched the enormous diamond ring on my left hand and felt my chest tighten.
Three carats of other people’s desires, glittering on my finger like a beautiful shackle.
“Can I ask you something?” My voice came out smaller than I intended, but I pressed on.
He nodded, still chewing. “Of course.”
“Do you ever feel like your life was chosen for you before you even had a chance to decide what you wanted?”
His fork paused halfway to his mouth, but only briefly.
“Well, I think that’s how it works for everyone from good families. Our parents guide us because they know what’s best. I mean, they’ve lived longer and seen more.”
The knot in my stomach pulled tighter.
“But what if what’s best for them isn’t what’s best for you?”
He actually laughed, but it came out indulgent and dismissive.
“Happiness comes from doing your duty, Kelechi. And to be honest, I like to think that everything else is just selfishness dressed up as freedom.”
I winced.
“Oh, and do you think it’s possible to have a good marriage without both parties being in love?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
He shrugged nonchalantly.
“I am a firm believer that love grows over time. Respect and compatibility are the things that make marriages last.”
Respect and duty.
Doing what’s expected.
All the lessons I had absorbed since childhood. All the reasons I was sitting here wearing his ring and planning a wedding I didn’t want.
None of it explained the emptiness clawing at my ribs, or why thinking about Marley felt like coming up for air.
I leaned forward.
“Would you want to spend your life married to someone who was hiding half of themselves from you?”
