I stood at the kitchen counter, wiping down the countertops for what felt like the hundredth time. I couldn't stop my hands from trembling, even though I knew I had no reason to be nervous. But today, something felt different. The air in the house felt heavier, like a storm was waiting to break. The house, once my refuge from the world, now felt suffocating. I was living in a nightmare, a dream I couldn't wake up from.
It had only been a few weeks since my traditional marriage to Obinna. It had been lavish—beautiful, even by the standards of anyone who could afford it. His family had pulled out all the stops, and for a brief moment, I thought maybe my life was finally turning around. I had come from nothing, and now, I was in the middle of a world that was brimming with riches and possibilities.
But now, all of it felt like a cruel joke.
Obinna, my so-called husband, hadn't looked at me the way I'd hoped. Not once had he treated me as his wife. It was as if we were strangers bound by some unspoken agreement, but never bound by love or care. I often wondered if I had made a mistake. He'd been so charming, so attentive when we first met at the restaurant where I worked. His eyes had followed me every day, and I thought maybe—just maybe—he saw something in me that others didn't. I had been so desperate for any sign of affection, I'd let myself believe it was love. But now, all I saw was indifference.
He had never treated me like the woman of the house, not once. I couldn't count the number of nights I had spent in his bed, in his arms, and yet when the morning came, it was like nothing had happened. He never even spoke to me in the day. He didn't acknowledge me when I passed him in the halls or when I did my duties around the house. My presence was insignificant to him. The worst part? The others in the house—his staff, his friends—had no idea I was his wife. To them, I was just another maid. And I had been instructed—no, ordered—to keep our marriage a secret.
I felt like I was suffocating, my heart crushed under the weight of all the lies. I would catch myself staring into the mirror sometimes, wondering how I'd become this version of myself—the woman who had dreamed of a life of luxury, only to be handed a life of misery disguised as comfort. I thought of my family—their struggles after my father's death. I thought of how I'd worked so hard to help them, and now, here I was, married to a man who could have given me everything but instead chose to make me his secret.
That day, the storm I had been dreading finally hit.I was in the kitchen, scraping leftovers into a plastic container when I overheard voices coming from the hallway. I wasn't supposed to eavesdrop, but curiosity gnawed at me, and I couldn't help myself. The sound of Obinna's voice, deep and unmistakable, made my heart race.
"Everything has to be perfect for tonight. The guests, the reception, the new wife…" His voice trailed off, but I caught the last part clearly—the new wife. I froze.
What did he mean, the new wife? Was I imagining things? Was this a bad dream, a cruel twist of fate?
My breath caught in my throat as the room suddenly became unbearably hot. I leaned against the counter, trying to steady myself, but my heart was racing in my chest, my mind a whirlwind of confusion.
"New wife?" I whispered, barely able to speak. "What new wife?" I wanted to confront him, to ask him what the hell was going on, but I was too scared. The truth was too painful to bear. The last few weeks had been a constant battle to hold on to whatever pride I had left, and now it seemed like everything was falling apart.
I waited, and eventually, Obinna's voice returned to the hallway, and I heard him speaking to one of the staff members. His tone was cold, his words sharp and commanding. I felt like I was drowning in his indifference. That night, as I served dinner, the truth hit me like a slap in the face. I overheard another conversation—this time, it was a more intimate discussion between Obinna and one of his closest associates. They spoke in hushed tones, but the words were clear.
"Her family's powerful. They're well-known in high society," Obinna said, his voice distant. "They'll be pleased with her as my wife." My stomach twisted into a knot. His new wife was from an influential family? A powerful family, someone whose name would be spoken in the same breath as his? I wanted to scream, to demand an explanation, but I stood there, frozen in place. The truth was sinking in: I wasn't his wife. I was nothing more than a pawn in some game I hadn't been told I was playing. The hours passed, and everything seemed to slow down. The staff had been preparing for the party all week, and the air in the house felt charged. I couldn't focus on the tasks I was supposed to be doing. I was too busy thinking about the woman who was now coming into my life.
She was going to be the center of his world, the one he showed off to his friends, the one he would take out in public. She would be the one to replace me—the real wife, the one he would cherish and love.
But I… I would still be here, in this house, a shadow. A secret. A fool. My hands shook as I served the food, my heart breaking more with each passing second. But it wasn't until the doorbell rang and the sound of the guests arriving reached my ears that I finally understood the full extent of the betrayal. Obinna's new wife was here.
I hadn't even been told about the party, and now, I was supposed to serve her—my replacement. My world felt like it was crumbling around me, piece by piece. How could I stand there and serve her, knowing that she was everything I was not?I couldn't.
I couldn't stay. The pain in my chest was unbearable, and the weight of it all was more than I could carry. I needed to escape—needed to find some semblance of dignity again.I ran away that night.
Not to my family, not to my siblings. No, I couldn't bear to go back there. I couldn't let them see me like this. But I couldn't stay here, either. Not in a house where I had been nothing more than a plaything for a man who couldn't even look me in the eyes.
I ran because I had nothing left to lose.