AKANNI POV
The room fell silent after her confession.
Not the peaceful kind of silence—but the kind that presses against your ears until you feel dizzy.
I stared at Bukky as though she had spoken in a language I didn't understand.
"He… satisfied you?" I repeated slowly.
She didn't answer immediately. Her eyes were glossy, her arms folded tightly across her chest like she was holding herself together by force.
"You refused me," she said finally. "Night after night, Akanni. You looked at me like I wasn't wanted. Like I was invisible."
I laughed—once. A dry, hollow sound.
"So instead of asking me why," I said calmly, "instead of talking to your husband, you went to another man."
Her lips trembled. "I tried talking to you."
"No," I corrected. "You tried accusing me."
She shook her head. "That's not fair."
"What's not fair," I said, my voice rising for the first time, "is that you stood before my family, knelt, offered wine, swore loyalty—and then climbed into another man's bed a day before our wedding."
Her breath hitched.
"You don't know how it felt," she whispered. "Being rejected by my own husband on our wedding night."
I stepped closer, anger tightening my jaw.
"And you don't know how it felt," I said quietly, "watching you give away what you promised me—thinking I wasn't there."
Her eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
I laughed again, this time bitter.
"I was there, Bukky."
She froze.
"At the hotel," I continued. "Pluto Hotel. I saw everything."
Her knees buckled slightly and she held onto the arm of the couch.
"No… no, you're lying."
"I wish I was," I replied.
Her mouth opened, then closed. Tears spilled freely now.
"You saw… everything?" she asked faintly.
"Yes."
She sank onto the couch, sobbing.
"Oh God… Akanni…"
"You didn't regret it," I said flatly. "Not that night. Not after. You were shocked—but not remorseful."
She looked up at me sharply.
"That's not true."
"Then why didn't you tell me?" I demanded. "Why did you let me marry you believing you were saving yourself for me?"
She covered her face with her hands.
"I was scared," she cried. "I thought I would lose you."
I nodded slowly.
"And yet you lost me anyway."
She stood abruptly and rushed toward me, grabbing my arms.
"I still love you!" she sobbed. "It was a mistake—one night, one weakness. Demi kept pushing, and I was confused and hurt and—"
"And satisfied," I finished for her.
She flinched as if slapped.
"That's cruel."
"No," I said softly. "That's honest."
She dropped her hands.
"So what now?" she asked weakly. "Are you going to punish me forever?"
I looked at her—really looked.
The woman I loved.
The woman who broke me.
The woman who still stood in front of me expecting grace.
"I was willing to forgive you," I said slowly, "if you had told me. Even after the wedding. Even a week later."
Her breath shook.
"But you didn't," I continued. "You let me starve emotionally while you ran back to the man who hurt us both."
She whispered, "I didn't think you knew."
"That was your mistake," I replied.
Silence fell again.
She wiped her face. "So… what do you want?"
I turned away.
"I want the truth," I said. "Every detail. Every lie. Every meeting. Until there's nothing left between us."
"And if I tell you everything?" she asked.
I paused at the door.
"Then maybe," I said without turning, "we can decide whether this marriage is still alive—or already dead."
I stepped out, leaving her alone with her truth.