The Quiet Wife 2

Chapter Two: The Message “Ada, it’s been weeks. I don’t know what’s happening with you anymore. I miss you. Please talk to me.” Ada stared at it like a foreign object on her screen. Tonia — her closest friend during university — the one who used to pull her into laughter during their hardest hostel days, had been trying for weeks to reach her. Ada hadn’t replied. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t know how to explain… this version of herself. But today, she finally typed back: “I’m sorry for the silence, Tonia. I’ve just… had a lot going on. Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow?” The reply came almost instantly. “YES! Name the place. I’ll be there.” A small, tired smile crept onto Ada’s lips. Maybe it was time. Maybe she needed this. (Flashback: Years Ago – University Days) It was 2009, and the sun was hot enough to fry akara on the hostel stairs. Ada was younger then — not in age, but in spirit. She had dreams so big, even the dusty campus roads couldn’t limit her. She and Tonia would sit under the mango tree outside Hall B, sipping sachet water and scribbling dreams in a notebook. “One day,” Ada had said, “I’ll have my own women’s magazine — all about real life, no sugarcoating.” “And I’ll be your fashion editor,” Tonia added, laughing. They believed in each other like sisters. Back then, Ada's voice had life. Passion. Fire. She wasn’t afraid of anything. (End of flashback) Later That Night Ada sat on the edge of the bed, pen in hand, journal on her lap. The generator hummed outside. Chuka was in the other room. And she was here, writing not for therapy — but for survival. She didn’t bother with quotes or fancy words tonight. She just wrote the truth. “Dear Diary, I feel like I’ve disappeared into someone else’s life. I used to want so much. I used to dream. Speak. Fight. Now I just serve. Clean. Endure. I’m not even angry anymore. I’m numb. But today, I replied to Tonia. And tomorrow, I’ll have lunch with someone who remembers me… Maybe that’s how I’ll start finding myself again. One step. One lunch. One truth at a time.” She closed the book. For the first time in weeks, her chest didn’t feel so tight. Tomorrow, she would talk. And for once, someone would listen. But today, I replied Tonia. And tomorrow, I’ll have lunch with someone who remembers me… Maybe that’s how I’ll start finding myself again. One step. One lunch. One truth at a time.” She closed the book. For the first time in weeks, her chest didn’t feel so tight. Tomorrow, she would talk. And for once, someone would listen.