A mysterious parcel was delivered to her doorstep. Brown-wrapped, unmarked and oddly heavy, there was no name, a return address and her house number scrawled in red ink. Amoke stood frozen at the entrance, her heart thudding. She looked around but saw no delivery man, no neighbor in sight.
She carried it inside cautiously, hands trembling. Was this connected to the anonymous calls? Should she open it? Or call someone especially her husband?
She sat on the edge of the couch, the box resting like a loaded secret on the table. For a few minutes, she simply stared at it. Then she reached for her phone, hovering between calling her husband or Semi but just before she could dial, a text came in from an unknown number: "Now you know where to begin. Open it."
Without hesitation, she tore open the glued envelope, eager to uncover its contents. Inside, she found a collection of photographs and handwritten letters, each one stirring a mix of confusion and anxiety.
Pausing for a moment, she turned the pictures over and her heart skipped. There was her husband, standing beside an unfamiliar woman, heavily pregnant.
Her fingers trembled as she picked up another photo, they looked like a couple. The woman had her arm around her husband's waist, while he touched her bulging belly. She felt the air leave her lungs.
Was this recent? Had this been going on behind her back? Her mind raced, trying to remember any trips, late nights, unexplained absences. She reached for the letter tucked beneath the pile, its handwriting neat, deliberate. Slowly, she unfolded it, bracing herself.
"Dear Amoke,
I know this will hurt, but you deserve the truth…"
Her vision blurred. Her world, once certain, was unraveling photo by photo, word by word.
Saying nothing to those closest to her, she embarked on a secret search, drawn into the web of a family no one knew existed.
Each night, when the house had quieted and her husband was fast asleep, she sat alone with the pictures turning them over again and again, trying to memorize every face, every background, every small detail. Why is the heavily pregnant woman being cared for by her husband? And most of all why was her husband smiling so effortlessly, as though he belonged with her? She dared not ask him, not yet. Instead, she started her own quiet investigation beginning with the address on the envelope, it is located in a town three hours away. A place she had never been, but one that now held answers she was desperate to find. One Saturday morning, she lied, told her family she had a business seminar in the city. By noon, she was seated in a dusty taxi, staring out at the blurred landscapes, her heart heavy with dread and curiosity. The closer she got, the more questions swarmed her mind.
Who sent the envelope? Was it a warning or a trap?
And if she found them, what then?
She got to the said address, her breath hitched before she could knock. The house was a modest bungalow tucked behind a colorful garden with dark curtains drawn tightly over the windows.
She reached for the doorbell, but her hand trembled. What if someone recognized her? What if they were expecting her? Just as her finger hovered over the bell, the door was opened by a maid. She smiled widely as if she has been expecting her. She was asked to wait in the living room while she dashed out to call her. Soon, she arrived. The atmosphere was a tensed one, she became nervous. Across the hallway stood a large portrait on the wall, they were both smiling. Then she asked her inner self, "Is this the punishment for cheating on him? Is this the price I have to pay?"
The weight of guilt pressed on her shoulders, making it hard to breathe. Her mind flashed back to the night of her mistake, the moment of weakness she had buried so deep, hoping it would stay forgotten. But now sitting in the house of her husband's other life, it all felt like karma unraveling in real time.
Tears welled up in her eyes. "This is too much," she whispered to herself. "Too hard to bear"
She stared at the woman stunned, the photograph didn't do justice to her looks. In person, she was strikingly beautiful, effortlessly elegant, even during pregnancy. There was a quiet confidence in her eyes, the kind that didn't need words to be felt. The silence between them was deafening, charged with questions neither dared to ask aloud.
The woman finally broke the silence, her voice calm but heavy with emotions. She explained why she sent the package. According to her, her conscience had never let her rest, each time she looked at her belly, she was reminded that her child's father belonged to another woman. She had tried for years to reach out, she said, even mentioning that she had been present at Semi convocation party, hoping for a chance to speak even though her husband was unaware.
Amoke remained silent for several minutes, her mind racing with questions. When she finally found her voice, she looked at the woman and asked quietly, "How did it all happen?"
The woman let out a long sign, as though unburdening years of guilt.
"It started at the hotel," the woman said, her eyes fixed on the floor. "I met him there with his friend, they were both drunk at the bar. He had no idea what happened that night until the next morning."
She paused, swallowing hard.
"I won't lie. I was at fault. Afterwards, I found out he worked in the same hotel, so I traced him. It was during that search I discovered he was married... but by then, the deed had already been done." She paused, searching Amoke's face for any sign of forgiveness but found none.
She continued
"Despite going to the hotel every day, I never saw him again," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Then, about a month later, I started feeling strange. I went to the hospital, and the doctor confirmed I was pregnant."
She let out a shaky breath before continuing.
"I had no choice than to reach out to the hotel and ask for his contact. When I finally got through to him, I reminded him of what happened between us… and told him it had led to a pregnancy."
"We met and he told me of his decision about the pregnancy. He also told me how you were unable to give him a child. He rented an apartment and started taking care of me. I was blinded with love and affection. He was everything I wished for.
Amoke's heart tightened and she finally spoke, her voice steady but cold "Does his mother know about this"
The woman nodded slowly. "Yes. He told her few days ago." A sharp pang hit Amoke's chest. She looked away for a moment, her thoughts spiraling. "So that was it" she said to herself. "That was why mama suddenly changed towards me, why the hostility disappeared without explanation. She knew, all along."
"I will soon give birth so i knew I had to let you know. Please find it in your heart to forgive me" she pleaded.
Amoke felt her throat tighten as a whirlwind of emotions churned within her. Betrayal, humiliation, grief, her fingers curled into her palms as she fought back the tears threatening to fall. She rose from her seat slowly, her legs almost giving way beneath her. Her heart felt heavy, like it carried years of pain compressed into a single, devastating truth. Yet, in the midst of the storm, there was a strange calmness, a quiet resolve forming in her chest. She realized she could no longer keep holding on to a love that had long been shared in silence with another. Amoke didn't speak again. She simply picked up her bag, gave the woman one last look, not of hatred but of painful acceptance and walked away, the weight of everything trailing behind her like a shadow she could no longer outrun.
Her husband's POV
After the incident at the hotel, he thought it had ended with that drunken night but everything came crashing down the day he received a call from an unknown number. The voice on the other end delivered news that shattered his composure: she was pregnant. His world tilted. Still, he knew he had to take responsibility. To prevent his home from crumbling completely, he rented an apartment for her and began supporting her quietly. Outwardly, he balanced both lives, but inwardly, he was drowning. Every time he looked at Amoke -her warm eyes, her tired smile, he was haunted by guilt and when he looked at the pregnant lady he had outside his marriage, the weight grew heavier.
He knew about the package in which she tried to hide it but her silence gave her away. That silence was far more piercing than any confrontation he had prepared himself for. He had delayed the truth for months, convincing himself he was shielding her. But in truth, he had been shielding himself, from shame, from consequences, from collapse. He had watched her carry the pain of their childlessness alone, watched as his mother's disappointment chipped away at her spirit and still, he said nothing. When the other woman got pregnant, panic consumed him. Rather than confessing, he dug deeper into secrecy, managing two homes and calling it responsibility, when it was really fear. Now, it was all unraveling.
He had heard of Amoke's visit to the woman. He expected rage, a scene, but none of that happened. What struck him most was the quiet grace with which she handled it all. No shouting, no threats, just silence. He sank into his chair and buried his face in his hands.
"I betrayed her," he whispered.
His phone vibrated on the table. It was his mother. He didn't pick up. He couldn't because what he feared most wasn't Amoke's anger, it was her silence and deep down, he knew that silence might just mean the end.
His phone couldn't stop vibrating, he knew he had to pick his mother's calls. With a heavy sigh, he picked up.
"Mama" he said quietly
"Why have you ignored my calls all day!" she snapped.
"I know. I've just been overwhelmed."
There was a pause on the line. "Overwhelmed? Has Amoke done something?"
"No," he replied, rubbing his forehead. "She found out about everything. The other woman, her pregnancy, the apartment. She went to meet the woman."
Silence fell on the other end.
"I never wanted things to turn out this way," he continued. "I was trying to hold it all together. I thought I was protecting her, but I see now that I was just lying to her, to myself and Mama… she didn't say anything. Not one word, that silence is killing me."
He expected a scolding but Mama's voice came low, subdued.
"I won't lie to you," she said slowly. "I was angry when Amoke didn't give you a child. I was hostile to her and Semi, I thought she would leave quietly one day."
"Mama…" His voice broke, pain and guilt mixing.
"But now I see I was wrong," she said, surprising even herself. "The woman stayed. Through the shame, through the silence, through you. And I have treated her like an outsider in her own home."
She sighed deeply. "You must fix this. Not for me. Not for Semi. For her, if you lose her, you'll lose more than a wife, you'll lose your peace."
He dropped the call and wept like a baby. He left the house to be with his friend.