When Love Finally Hurts

Chapter6

Chapter Six – Shame in the Market

Saturday morning, I just... couldn’t do it anymore. The walls in my room felt like they were closing in, squeezing the breath out of me. I told myself, Girl, you need air. You need food. You need to see something other than your own shadow.

So, I threw on some old clothes, wrapped a scarf around my head (didn’t even care if it matched, to be honest), grabbed my basket, and headed for the market.

Hot, sticky air slapped me in the face the second I stepped outside. The street was already alive — traders yelling prices, women going full Nollywood over tomatoes, kids zipping through legs with plastic bags bouncing behind them. Somewhere, someone was frying akara, and the smell mixed with dust and sweat and... life. My stomach grumbled, but my head was all over the place.

Calm? Yeah, right. I wouldn’t recognize calm if it danced naked in front of me.

I was poking at some tired-looking ugu when I heard that voice. You know, the kind that makes your spine curl. “Janet?”

My neck almost broke from how fast I turned. Sandra. Of course. Because why wouldn’t she be here, right? She looked like she was on her way to a music video shoot — tight jeans, white top, not a single bead of sweat on her perfect face. She had two girls with her, dressed to match, both looking at me like I was the punchline.

That smile she gave me? Please. That wasn’t a smile, it was a warning.

“Ah, our Janet,” she basically shouted, making sure every trader within three stalls heard. “Shopping small-small as always?”

My hand froze on a bunch of spinach. “Sandra,” I managed, like my own name was a bone stuck in my throat.

Her backup dancers started giggling, extra loud.

Sandra moved closer, eyes glinting with that brand of wickedness only she could manage. “So, how’s life now? Still in that shoebox room? Still sewing those tiny dresses nobody wants?”

I could feel all the staring — the traders, the customers, even the woman selling onions stopped slicing. My face was burning.

I tried to sound cool, but my voice was weak. “Sandra, abeg, just leave me.”

Think she listened? Nope. She actually leaned in, her expensive perfume almost choking me. “Leave you? Why? Maybe I should help you. I can give you money for pepper. Now that Alex has upgraded, you need a new hustle.”

Her crew cackled like evil parrots.

My throat felt like it was closing, but I forced the words out. “You think you’ve won, Sandra. But my story isn’t finished. I will rise again.”

She squinted at me, smile sharp as a razor. “Rise? Janet, you couldn’t even keep your own man. You? Rise? People like you stay down.”

And something inside me just... snapped. I straightened, looked her dead in the eye. “So why are you so obsessed, Sandra? If you’ve won, why are you following me around, eh?”

For a second — just one — her mask dropped. Then she laughed, flicked her wrist at her friends. “Let’s go, girls. We’re done here.”

They strutted off, leaving a cloud of whispers behind. Everyone had seen it, everyone had heard. I stood there, rooted, cheeks on fire. I swear, I could’ve disappeared if I tried hard enough.

Paid for my sad little basket and ran home before I lost it completely.

Back in my room, I dropped everything and just slid to the floor. Ugly, messy tears. The kind that choke you and make your nose run. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t I just catch a single break?

Then my phone lit up. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Who now? Another message?

Nope. It was Alex. Ha. As if that made it better.

I stared at his name for ages, hands shaking. Finally, I opened it.

Alex: “Janet, I heard what happened at the market. Why can’t you just walk away? Must you always cause drama?”

That one hurt. Like, really hurt. He was blaming me? Are you kidding? My tears got even messier.

I typed back, fingers shaking: “I didn’t start it, Alex. She came for me. She made a show of it.”

He went silent for a bit and then: “Sandra said you provoked her. Janet, please, let’s not do this. We’re done. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

I dropped the phone like it burned. Sandra had twisted it all, and Alex — i***t — swallowed her story whole.

That night, Tonia showed up. She found me on the floor, eyes puffy, face streaked. “Janet!” she cried, dropping her bag and hugging me. “What happened again?”

I told her everything. The market. The humiliation. Alex’s text — all of it.

Tonia’s whole face changed. “That girl is wicked, and Alex is a fool. But listen. Don’t let them break you. Use this pain. Build something from it. Show them you’re more than this nonsense.”

Her words hit me hard. For the first time in ages, I felt something flicker. Maybe hope, maybe just anger — but it was alive.

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed again.

I wiped my eyes, reached for it. Another message:

“You will never escape her shadow. Even if Alex leaves her, he will never return to you. Accept it… or suffer more.”

My heart stopped. Tonia snatched the phone, her eyes huge. “Who is this witch? Janet, you need to find out — fast. Before it gets worse.”

Her voice echoed in my che

st. Before it gets worse.

But how do you fight an enemy you can’t even see?