Confession
793 Words
After lunch, they carried their plates to the kitchen and returned to the sitting room with two glasses of chilled zobo.
The afternoon had grown quieter. The music had stopped playing, and the only sound was the ceiling fan spinning gently above them.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Fáde traced the rim of her glass with her finger.
"You've gone quiet," Shola said.
"So have you."
He smiled nervously.
"I've been trying to find the right words."
She looked at him.
"For what?"
Shola took a deep breath. He had imagined this moment countless times, yet now that it was here, every rehearsed sentence had disappeared.
"Do you remember the first day we met?"
Fáde nodded.
"I thought you were beautiful."
She laughed softly.
"You didn't even know my name."
"I didn't need to. Something about you stayed with me."
The laughter on her face slowly faded.
"I told myself we should just be friends," he continued. "I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted to know the real Fáde—the woman behind the smile, behind the strength, behind everything you've been through."
He paused, searching her eyes.
"And the more I got to know you... the more I realized I wasn't just looking forward to our conversations."
He reached for her hand carefully, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted to.
She didn't.
"I look forward to every morning because I know I'll hear your voice. I catch myself smiling whenever your name appears on my phone. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. And when something goes wrong, you're the first person I think of."
A gentle silence settled between them.
"Fáde..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I love you."
She lowered her eyes, overwhelmed by emotions she had tried so hard to hide.
"No one has ever said those words to me like they truly meant them."
"I do mean them."
A tear escaped before she could stop it.
Shola gently wiped it away with his thumb.
"You don't have to answer today," he said softly. "I just wanted you to know how I feel."
Fáde looked into his eyes and smiled through her tears.
"I've been afraid of falling in love."
"I know."
"I've been afraid of being hurt."
"I know."
She squeezed his hand.
"But somewhere along the way..."
She took a slow breath.
"I fell in love with you too."
Neither of them rushed to speak again.
They simply sat there, hands intertwined, smiling at each other as though the world outside had disappeared.
For the first time in a very long time, Fáde felt accepted—not for who people wanted her to be, but for who she truly was.
Fáde's smile slowly faded.
There was something she had been carrying for weeks—something too heavy to hide, yet too painful to say aloud.
She gently withdrew her hand and lowered her eyes.
"Shola..."
"Hmm?"
"If I tell you something about my past, will you promise to let me finish before you say anything?"
He nodded.
"I promise."
She took a long breath.
"You told me you love me. Before I answer with all my heart, you deserve to know who I really am."
The room grew still.
"I am a mother."
Shola's expression softened, but he remained silent, remembering his promise.
"I have four sons."
The words lingered in the air.
"My first son came into my life because of a mistake I made when I was too young to understand the weight of my choices. I thought I was grown, but I wasn't. A child was born from that decision, and no matter how painful the memories are, I have never stopped loving him."
She wiped away a tear.
"My second son was born to a man I truly believed loved me. At the time, I thought I had finally found the kind of love that would last. I trusted him with my heart, but life didn't unfold the way I had imagined."
She paused before continuing.
"My youngest are twin boys. Their laughter is one of the greatest gifts God has given me. They remind me every day that even after heartbreak, life can still bring something beautiful."
She looked directly at Shola, her voice trembling.
"I'm not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me."
She swallowed hard.
"I'm telling you because I don't want to build a relationship on half-truths. If my past is too much for you, I'd rather know now than later. I can live with rejection, but I can't live with pretending to be someone I'm not."
Silence filled the room for awhile.
Fáde stood up slowly.
"I think I should go."
- Writer
