EZINNE

THE SILENT DOSE

The days that followed carried an eerie peace. Chike was calm too calm. His temper, once quick to flare, had cooled into something unsettling. He laughed more, spoke gently, and even surprised Ezinne with small acts of kindness: fresh fruit from the market, neatly ironed clothes, her favorite soup simmering on the stove when she came home.

To Ezinne, it felt like an overdue reconciliation. She told herself maybe he had finally accepted their differences. Perhaps they could remain together, even if marriage wasn’t on the table.

But what she didn’t know was that Chike had already begun.

The first dose was small so small she barely noticed. A faint stomach cramp, a mild dizziness after dinner. She dismissed it as stress from work. Chike, watching her closely, only smiled, pressing a glass of water into her hands.

“You work too hard,” he murmured. “You need to rest more.”

Each night, he increased the dose little by little, careful, deliberate, patient. He became a master of details: stirring the food longer, disguising the bitterness, ensuring she ate enough to swallow the poison but not enough to suspect.

And Ezinne, distracted by deadlines and her own ambitions, never questioned the sudden wave of fatigue that clung to her. Her colleagues noticed her paling complexion, her slower steps, but she waved off their concern with a tired laugh.

“I just need a vacation,” she told them.

At home, Chike’s mask never slipped. He was attentive, doting, always there with a perfect smile. He watched her strength fade day by day, and inside, he felt a dark satisfaction bloom.

Still, at night, guilt sometimes clawed at him. He would lie awake, staring at her fragile frame beside him, his heart torn between love and vengeance. But the whisper in his mind always returned, louder than the guilt:

She betrayed you. She used you. She left you behind.

By the third week, Ezinne’s body could no longer ignore the damage. She collapsed one evening in the living room, her phone slipping from her hand as she gasped for air.

Chike was at her side instantly, feigning panic. “Ezinne! What’s wrong?!”

Her lips trembled, her body weak. “I… I don’t… know.”

He carried her to the bed, his hands steady though his heart thundered in his chest. He knew what was happening. This was the turning point.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, he whispered into her ear, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’ll never leave me, Ezinne. Not now. Not ever.”

And in the silence of the night, while rain lashed against the windows, Chike sat beside her, the poison finally tightening its grip.