EZINNE

THE LAST BREATH

The morning sun broke through the curtains, casting streaks of light across the room. Ezinne stirred weakly, her skin pale, her breath shallow. Chike hovered by her side, every muscle in his body tense. The time had come.

She tried to sit up, but her strength failed her. “Chike…” Her voice was a whisper, thin as smoke. “Something… is wrong with me.”

He brushed her hair back gently, his eyes fixed on hers. “Shhh. Don’t worry. I’m here.”

But his heart was anything but calm. He had envisioned this moment for weeks, yet now that it was here, the weight of it pressed on him like an iron chain. He wanted her gone, yes, but part of him still clung to the memory of the girl who once looked at him with unshaken trust.

For a brief moment, his resolve wavered. He could still save her. He could confess, rush her to the hospital, beg for forgiveness.

But then her words from that night at the restaurant echoed in his mind, sharp and cold as a knife:

“I’ve gone beyond your level.”

His jaw clenched. No, there was no saving this.

Chike stood, walked to the kitchen, and prepared what would be her final meal. He stirred the food with care, mixing in the last, most potent dose of poison. When he returned, she was lying on the bed, eyes half-closed, barely conscious.

“Eat,” he said softly, raising the spoon to her lips.

Ezinne obeyed, too weak to resist. She swallowed slowly, each mouthful dragging her closer to the edge.

Minutes passed. Then her body convulsed violently, her eyes wide with fear as she clutched at her stomach.

“Chike help me!” she gasped, her voice breaking, her nails digging into his arm.

He held her close, whispering against her ear, his tone a chilling mix of sorrow and triumph. “I love you, Ezinne. I gave you everything. But you threw it all away.”

Her body shuddered one last time, then went still.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Chike laid her gently on the bed, tears sliding down his face. For a long moment, he sat there, staring at her lifeless body, the weight of his actions sinking in. He had won but victory tasted like ash in his mouth.

Panic soon replaced sorrow. The reality of what he had done crashed over him. If anyone found out, he would lose everything. He couldn’t stay.

He packed hurriedly, stuffing clothes into a bag, his hands trembling. He avoided looking at her, though he felt her presence pressing into his back like a shadow that would never leave.

Before leaving, he stood at the doorway, looking at the room that had once held their dreams, their love, their laughter. Now it was nothing but a tomb.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, even though he no longer believed it.

Then he fled into the night, disappearing into the city’s endless streets.

But no matter how far he ran, one truth would follow him forever:

Love had raised Ezinne.

Betrayal had destroyed her.

And Chike had poisoned not just her body but his own soul.