LOVE AND LIES

The Night My Lies Almost Failed Me

I should have prepared for the dinner. For the lies. For him. But I did not. Because I never do.

From that day, we did not speak again, not until the day before the cook date.

We reached out to each other at the exact same time. Like something unseen had decided we were not done yet.

His message came in first, calm, polite and controlled. Still wrapped in that perfect English of his.

This time, I matched him. I had studied him. Learned him. Adjusted myself to him. I smiled when I saw his name. That should have been my first warning. We confirmed the date. No hesitation. No overthinking. Just one decision. He was coming over.

You would think I spent the days before learning how to cook naan bread. I did not. Not even once. No recipes. No practice. No backup plan. Nothing.

I like chaos. I like last-minute pressure and, more than anything, I am used to getting away with lies. So somewhere deep inside me

A quiet voice whispered; ''You will get away with this too.''

The day of the dinner came with an audience. Tracy had guests, Catholic female leaders visiting from Manchester and Russell. One of their church leaders was coming with them. They all knew each other ; Tracy, Kiara, Russell and the ladies.

This was no longer just dinner. This was exposure. We rushed home from work and stopped at Tesco. Rice, chicken and everything we needed or at least what we thought we needed.

We arrived at the same time as the guests. No time to breathe, think, or fix anything. Perfect, because I do not plan lies. I live in them.

Tracy and I moved quickly in the open kitchen cleaning, chopping, pretending we were in control. We had tried making naan bread before. It came out in strange shapes. Amoeba shapes. Embarrassing but edible.

Tracy took the dough and I let her, because I had no idea what I was doing. She had more confidence than me.

Then he walked in, Kiara and suddenly everything slowed down. He stood by the counter watching. Not judging, just observing and, for some reason, that made me more nervous. I focused on what I knew, butter chicken. That was mine. I could win awards for best chef with this curry. That day, I cooked like I needed to prove something. Maybe to him. Maybe to myself.

Laughter filled the room. Voices blended. Conversations flowed and then it happened. One of the girls asked him if he was planning to join the seminary. He laughed softly and easily.

Then he said: ''Lilly is my girlfriend.''

The room laughed. Everyone knew it was a joke.

His tone made it obvious; light, careless, playful, but I did not hear a joke. I heard something else.Something I was not supposed to believe.

I held onto those words. Tightly. Dangerously. Like they meant something. Like they were real. Like they were mine and in that moment something shifted inside me. I stopped pretending and I started feeling.

While I cooked, smiled and nodded at conversations, my mind was somewhere else. Building a future. That did not exist. Yet.

Then came the questions; sharp, unexpected and dangerous.

'' Lilly, if Kiara is your boyfriend, where is his family based?'' one of the ladies asked.

I froze.

I did not even know his full name. That night, I learned it. Liguan Kiara Morgan. Born in Stoke-on-Trent.

I stored it immediately. Like I always do. Information is power and lies need structure.

He moved closer again. Picked up the dough. Rolled it out perfectly, clean, round, effortless.

Then he laughed, saying he did not want a shapeless naan like the one Tracy once posted on her w******p status.

Just like that, my lie disappeared. He fixed it without knowing. He saved me without trying.

The night was not done with me. Russell spoke casual, too casual. He mentioned Calvin. Said he had seen us together.

Then he asked: ''Are you dating him?''

Silence.

I had one chance to tell the truth. I did not take it.

I said Calvin was my cousin. That our mothers were sisters. Another lie because Kiara needed to see me one way. Single, Available and Untouched.

The night ended quickly after that. He had a meeting, so I packed a takeaway for him.

I walked him to the Underground station. This time, I reached for a hug. He hesitated, just slightly. But he still hugged me because he is kind.

Later that night, he sent a courtesy text to say he got home safely. Then he texted again saying the food was good.

I did not know if he meant it, but I knew one thing: I wanted him. Not a part of him. Not a moment. All of him. Even if it meant building everything on lies.

That night I went to bed knowing I had found something dangerous. My Aheri, my beloved.

But the truth is, the moment he called me his girlfriend even as a joke, I made a decision. I would become exactly that. No matter the cost.

The more I lied to become his, the closer I got to losing him.