I woke up slowly, as if my body didn't trust the world enough to do it all at once.
For a few seconds, I forgot where I was. Then the dull ache crept in—my arm first, then my cheek, then the heaviness in my chest that felt worse than any bruise. Lia's ceiling came into focus above me, unfamiliar and too quiet. The events of the night before rushed back without warning, sharp and merciless.
The shouting.
The words.
The door closing behind me.
I turned my face toward the wall, swallowing hard. My reflection stared back at me from the wardrobe mirror across the room. I looked smaller somehow. Fragile. Like someone I didn't recognize.
I pulled the sleeve of Lia's oversized shirt down, hiding the faint discoloration on my arm. I wasn't ready to look at myself fully yet.
The smell of tea drifted in from the kitchen.
"You're awake," Lia said gently when she stepped into the room. She didn't rush me with questions. She never did. She just sat on the edge of the bed and placed a warm mug in my hands.
I wrapped my fingers around it, letting the heat ground me.
For a while, we sat in silence.
My thoughts kept drifting—against my will—to Femi. To the way his voice had sounded the night before everything went wrong. Calm. Thoughtful. Unrushed. I felt a strange bitterness rise in my throat.
How could something so soft lead to something so violent?
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," Lia said quietly.
"I do," I replied, surprising myself. "I just… don't know where to start."
She waited.
So I told her about my parents. Not every detail....but enough. Enough for her eyes to darken with anger, enough for her hand to tighten around mine.
When I finished, my voice felt thin and tired.
"And all this," I added softly, "is because of him."
Lia frowned slightly. "Who?"
"Femi". I responded.
She leaned back, studying me. "Okay," she said carefully. "Tell me about him. Properly this time."
I took a breath.
"His name is Femi Caldwell," I began. Saying it out loud made my chest tighten. "He's… older. Early-Forties. Very composed. He works in Oil and gas sector, atleast that is what he told me. He's wealthy, but not in a loud way".
I stared into my tea as I continued. "We met at the party....you remember. The one you dragged me to. I wasn't even planning to talk to anyone that night."
Her lips curved knowingly. "And yet."
"And yet," I echoed. "We talked. Not small talk. Real conversation. Books. Ethics. Life. He asked me questions that made me think. Not like he was testing me—more like he genuinely cared what I thought."
I swallowed.
"He listens," I said quietly. "Really listens. When I speak, I don't feel like I need to perform or impress him. I don't feel like I'm being measured."
Lia's gaze softened. "That sounds dangerous."
"It feels dangerous," I admitted. "Because with him, I feel… seen. Like I'm more than who I'm dating, or who my parents expect me to be."
I hesitated, then added, "He never touched me. Never crossed a line. Everything about him is subtle. Intentional."
"And your parents know all this?" Lia asked.
I shook my head. "They don't know anything. I not sure of what they heard or know. But I'm certain they don't know his name or his age . All they cared about was the fact that I was seen with a man . And they decided what that meant about me."
Silence settled between us.
"And Daniel?" Lia asked gently.
The question made my chest ache.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Things with Daniel have been shaky for a while. He's been distant. Defensive. And now… I feel like I'm living three different lives. The daughter trying to be obedient. The girlfriend trying to hold something together. And this version of me that comes alive around Femi."
I pressed my lips together, emotion rising fast and unexpected.
"I don't know who I'm allowed to be," I said, my voice breaking. "Or who I want to be."
Lia pulled me into her arms, and this time I didn't fight the tears.
My parents' voices echoed in my head.
Daniel's unspoken expectations weighed on my chest.
And somewhere in between, Femi's quiet presence lingered—steady, patient, unresolved.
I had never felt so torn in my life.
And I had no idea which part of me would survive this.