The Woman He Married
1076 Words
🔥 Episode 4
Tunde didn’t sleep that night.
How could he?
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same things—
The videos.
The bank transfers.
Amara’s smile in that footage.
And those four words burned into his mind:
CHECK HIS PHONE.
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By morning, the house no longer felt like his.
It felt like a trap.
And somehow…
He was already caught in it.
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A loud knock echoed through the living room.
Tunde stiffened.
Then walked slowly to the door.
When he opened it, Detective Ibrahim stood there again.
But this time—
He wasn’t alone.
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A woman stood beside him.
Mid-thirties.
Sharp eyes.
Composed.
The kind of person who didn’t miss details.
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“This is Inspector Adaeze Okafor,” Ibrahim said. “She’s joining the case.”
The woman gave a slight nod.
“Tunde.”
Not Mr. Tunde.
Just Tunde.
Direct.
Uncomfortable.
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“I hope you’re ready to answer more questions,” she added.
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They didn’t sit this time.
Adaeze preferred to walk.
To observe.
To study.
Her eyes moved across the living room, picking up things Tunde didn’t even notice anymore.
Photos.
Furniture.
Tiny details.
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Then she stopped.
At the wall.
Where a large framed wedding photo hung.
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Tunde followed her gaze.
It was their wedding day.
Amara in white.
Radiant.
Perfect.
Smiling like nothing in the world could ever go wrong.
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Adaeze tilted her head slightly.
“How long were you married?”
“Three years,” Tunde replied.
“How long did you know her before that?”
“…A year.”
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Adaeze turned slowly.
“Only a year?”
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Something in her tone made Tunde uneasy.
“Yes,” he said. “Why?”
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She didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she reached into her bag.
And pulled out a file.
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Thin.
But heavy with meaning.
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She handed it to him.
“Open it.”
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Tunde hesitated.
Then took it.
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Inside were documents.
Printed.
Organized.
Official.
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The first page had a name on it.
Not Amara Okoye.
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Nkechi Eze.
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Tunde frowned. “What is this?”
“Keep going,” Adaeze said.
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He flipped the page.
Another identity.
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Zainab Bello.
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Another page.
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Lara Johnson.
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Tunde’s hands began to shake.
“No… no, this doesn’t make sense…”
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Adaeze watched him closely.
“Those are all the same person,” she said quietly.
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Silence.
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“The woman you married,” she continued, “doesn’t officially exist.”
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The words hit like a bomb.
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“What are you talking about?” Tunde demanded. “Amara is real. I married her. I lived with her!”
“Yes,” Adaeze said. “But which version of her?”
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Tunde stepped back, shaking his head.
“This is insane…”
⸻
Adaeze took the file from him and flipped to another page.
Photos.
Different hairstyles.
Different looks.
Different identities.
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But the same eyes.
The same smile.
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Amara.
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“She’s been using multiple identities for years,” Adaeze said. “Different cities. Different men. Different lives.”
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Tunde’s chest tightened.
“…Different men?”
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Adaeze held his gaze.
“Yes.”
⸻
The room spun slightly.
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“You’re not the first,” she added.
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That hurt more than everything else.
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Tunde laughed suddenly.
A broken, disbelieving sound.
“No… no, you’re wrong. You don’t understand her. She wouldn’t—”
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“Wouldn’t what?” Adaeze cut in. “Lie? Manipulate? Disappear?”
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Tunde went silent.
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Because now—
Every memory felt… questionable.
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“Three years ago,” Adaeze continued, “a man in Abuja reported his wife missing.”
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She flipped another page.
A photo.
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Tunde’s breath caught.
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It was Amara.
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But under a different name.
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“Six months later,” Adaeze said, “another man in Port Harcourt filed a fraud complaint.”
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Another page.
Another photo.
Same woman.
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“Money missing. Identity erased. No trace.”
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Tunde’s legs felt weak.
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“This… this can’t be real…”
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Adaeze stepped closer.
Lowered her voice.
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“But it is.”
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Silence.
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Then—
Tunde’s mind snapped to something.
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“The money,” he said suddenly. “The transfers on my phone… she did that, didn’t she?”
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Adaeze didn’t answer immediately.
But her silence was enough.
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“She used you,” Ibrahim added quietly. “Set you up to take the fall.”
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Tunde’s breathing became uneven.
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“No… no, why would she do that?”
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Adaeze’s expression hardened slightly.
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“Because that’s what she does.”
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A long pause.
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Then she added—
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“But this time…”
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She glanced at Ibrahim.
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“…something is different.”
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Tunde looked up.
“What do you mean?”
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Adaeze exhaled slowly.
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“In all her previous cases,” she said, “she disappeared quietly.”
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She stepped closer.
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“No messages.”
“No clues.”
“No games.”
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Her eyes locked onto his.
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“But with you…”
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She pointed toward the mirror upstairs.
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“She left a trail.”
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Tunde felt a chill run down his spine.
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“Why?” he whispered.
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Adaeze didn’t look away.
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“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
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Then—
Bello rushed in from outside, slightly out of breath.
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“Sir… we’ve got something.”
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Everyone turned.
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“What is it?” Ibrahim asked.
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Bello swallowed.
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“We traced the car from the footage.”
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Tunde’s heart jumped.
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“And?”
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Bello hesitated.
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Then said—
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“It was registered…”
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A pause.
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Heavy.
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“To a man who was reported dead two years ago.”
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Silence crashed into the room.
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Tunde blinked.
“…What?”
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Bello nodded slowly.
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“And that’s not even the strange part.”
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Ibrahim frowned. “What do you mean?”
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Bello looked at Tunde.
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“Because the name on the registration is…”
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Another pause.
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Long enough to make the tension unbearable.
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“…Tunde Okoye.”
- Writer
