Not The Man I Came For

The question

The storm had worsened by morning.

Nadia woke to the sound of rain hammering against the window and wind rattling the frame. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was—the unfamiliar room, the quilt that smelled faintly of lavender, the grey light filtering through the curtains. Then everything came flooding back.

I'm getting married.

Be my best man.

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the pillow.

She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Colton's face—the excitement in his voice, the way he had looked at her like he was sharing the best news of his life. And she had smiled. She had hugged him. She had told him she was happy for him.

She had done all the right things.

And now she felt hollow.

A knock at the door made her sit up quickly, her heart lurching.

"Nadia?" It was Adaeze's voice, gentle and concerned. "Breakfast is ready. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes," Nadia called back, her voice steadier than she felt. "I'll be down in a minute."

She forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face and studied her reflection. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but not swollen. She hadn't cried. That was something, at least.

You can do this, she told herself. You've survived worse.

But had she? She had survived Mr. Adeyemi taking credit for her work, surviving the slow erosion of her confidence, surviving years of pretending that friendship was enough when she wanted so much more. But this—this was different. This was the death of a future she had been quietly building in her mind for years.

She dressed carefully, choosing a simple blouse and trousers, something that wouldn't draw attention. Then she went downstairs.

The kitchen was warm and bustling. Adaeze stood at the stove, flipping something in a pan, while Chiamaka sat at the table with a cup of tea and her phone. There was no sign of Colton.

"Good morning," Nadia said, sliding into a chair.

"Good morning, dear." Adaeze glanced at her, and something flickered in her eyes—concern, maybe, or recognition. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not really. The storm kept me up."

"The storm." Adaeze nodded, but her gaze lingered a moment too long. "Yes. It's been a bad one."

Chiamaka looked up from her phone. "Did Colton tell you the news?"

Nadia's grip tightened on the edge of the table. "He did."

"Isn't it exciting? Amara is amazing. You'll love her."

Amara.

The name was a knife twisting in her chest. Amara—the woman Colton had chosen. The woman who had everything Nadia had spent years wishing she could be.

"When are you going to meet her?" Chiamaka continued, oblivious to the way Nadia's hands had started trembling. "She's coming next week, right?"

"I think so," Adaeze said. "Colton said she had some work to finish up in Abuja first."

Nadia's throat constricted. Abuja. The same city where she lived. The same city where she had spent years building a life, never knowing that Colton was falling in love with someone else.

She thought about all the times he had called her, all the evenings they had spent together, all the moments she had mistaken for something more. Had Amara been there? Had she been waiting in the background while Colton and Nadia laughed and talked and pretended their friendship was the most important thing in the world?

"I need some air," Nadia said, standing abruptly.

Adaeze looked up, concerned. "But you haven't eaten—"

"I'm fine. I just—" She forced a smile. "I'm still tired from the flight. I'll be back in a little while."

She was out the door before anyone could stop her, stepping into the covered porch just as a c***k of thunder split the sky. The rain was coming down in sheets, and the wind whipped around her, cold and sharp.

She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, and tried to breathe.

You're being ridiculous, she told herself. He was never yours. He never promised you anything.

But that didn't matter. The heart didn't care about logic. The heart cared about the way he had looked at her when she stepped off the plane, the way he had said you look beautiful, the way she had let herself believe, just for a moment, that this was the beginning of something new.

She heard the door open behind her.

"Thought I'd find you out here."

Colton.

Nadia didn't turn around. She couldn't.

He came to stand beside her, leaning against the porch railing, his shoulder almost touching hers. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

"You're quiet," he said finally. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired."

"Liar."

She turned to look at him, and her breath caught. He was watching her with that familiar expression—concern mixed with affection, the way he always looked at her when he knew something was wrong but didn't want to push.

"I'm not lying," she said.

"You are. You've been quiet since last night." He paused. "Is it the wedding? Did I—did I say something wrong?"

"No." The word came out too quickly. "No, Colton. It's not you."

"Then what is it?"

She looked away, out at the rain-soaked hills. "I'm just... surprised. You never mentioned Amara. Not once."

"I know." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but things happened so fast, and I wasn't sure how you'd react."

You weren't sure how I'd react.

Because some part of him knew, then. Some part of him had sensed that his news would hurt her, even if he didn't understand why.

"I'm happy for you," Nadia said, and she meant it. That was the worst part. She meant it. She wanted him to be happy, even if it meant watching him build a life with someone else.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

He studied her for a moment, and she forced herself to meet his gaze, to keep her expression neutral. She had spent years learning how to hide her feelings. She could do this.

"Good." His face relaxed into a smile. "Because I really need you for this. The wedding, I mean. I know it's a lot to ask—being my best man—but I can't imagine doing it without you. You're the person I trust most in the world."

The words were meant to be kind. They landed like stones.

"I'll do it," Nadia said.

"You will?"

"Of course." She smiled, and it felt like swallowing glass. "I'd do anything for you, Colton. You know that."

He pulled her into a hug, and she let herself sink into it for just a moment. Just one moment, and then she would let go.

"Thank you," he murmured against her hair. "I knew I could count on you."

Count on me.

She closed her eyes and said nothing.

---

The storm continued through the afternoon, growing worse with each passing hour. The power flickered twice before finally going out, and Adaeze lit candles while Chiamaka tried to find updates on her phone.

"No service," she announced, frustrated. "The storm must have knocked out a tower somewhere."

Nadia stood by the window, watching the rain pour down in sheets so thick she could barely see the hills. Her own phone was useless—no signal, no way to call Maya, no way to hear a familiar voice telling her that everything would be okay.

She thought about telling Maya. About the wedding, about the best man request, about the way her heart had shattered on the porch while Colton smiled and thanked her for being such a good friend. Maya would be furious. Maya would tell her to leave, to come home, to stop torturing herself.

But Nadia couldn't leave. Not yet.

She had promised.

You're the person I trust most in the world.

How was she supposed to walk away from that?

Dinner was a quiet affair, the candlelight casting strange shadows across the walls. Colton was distracted, checking his phone every few minutes even though there was no service, and Adaeze kept glancing at the window with a worried expression.

"The roads will be flooded by morning," she said. "You might be stuck here for a few days."

"I don't mind," Chiamaka said. "I brought enough clothes."

Nadia said nothing. She was thinking about Abuja—about her apartment, her work, the life she had left behind. She was thinking about how badly she wanted to be there instead of here, surrounded by Colton's family, pretending to be happy about a wedding she couldn't bear to attend.

"I should check on the car," Colton said, pushing back from the table. "Make sure it's not flooded."

"I'll come with you," Nadia said, surprising herself.

He looked at her, puzzled. "You don't have to—"

"I need some air."

They stepped out onto the porch together, and the wind hit them immediately, cold and fierce. The rain had eased slightly, but the sky was still dark, and the trees were bending under the force of the storm.

Colton checked the car quickly, then turned to Nadia. "You've been quiet all day."

"I told you, I'm tired."

"That's not it." He moved closer, his face serious. "Something's wrong. I can tell."

She looked at him—really looked at him—and for a moment, she considered telling him the truth. Not everything, not the full weight of her feelings, but something. Enough to make him understand why she was struggling.

But then she imagined his face. The confusion, the pity, the awkward way he would try to let her down gently. She imagined losing him entirely, losing the friendship that had been the most important thing in her life for years.

She couldn't do it.

"I'm fine," she said. "Really. I'm just worried about getting back to Abuja. I have work."

"Work." He nodded slowly. "How's that going, by the way? Still dealing with your boss?"

The change of subject was a relief. "Still dealing with him."

"He's still taking credit for your designs?"

"Always."

Colton shook his head. "I don't know how you put up with it. If I were you, I would have quit a long time ago."

"Quitting isn't an option." Nadia wrapped her arms around herself. "I've worked too hard to get where I am. If I leave, I lose everything."

"You'd find something else. You're talented, Nadia. Everyone knows it."

Everyone except the people who matter, she thought. But she didn't say it. She just shrugged and looked out at the storm.

"You know what your problem is?" Colton continued. "You're too patient. You let people walk all over you because you're afraid of making waves. But sometimes you have to make waves. Sometimes you have to fight for what you deserve."

"I know."

"Do you? Because you've been saying that for years, and nothing's changed."

She turned to look at him, stung. "That's not fair."

"I'm not trying to be fair. I'm trying to be honest." He stepped closer, his voice softening. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Nadia. But you don't act like it. You hide. You wait. You let other people take what's yours."

The words hit too close to home. She thought about the wedding, about the best man request, about all the years she had spent hiding her feelings because she was too afraid to risk what they had.

"That's easy for you to say," she said quietly. "You've never had to fight for anything."

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Colton's expression flickered—hurt, then understanding.

"Maybe not," he said. "But I know what it's like to be afraid of losing something important."

She looked at him, surprised.

"I was terrified when I met Amara," he admitted. "I thought I wasn't good enough for her. I thought she'd realize she could do better and leave. But she didn't. She stayed. And I realized that the only way to get what you want is to stop being afraid and go after it."

Nadia's throat tightened. "That's beautiful, Colton."

"It's the truth." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Whatever you're afraid of, Nadia—whatever's holding you back—just remember that you deserve more than you think you do."

She looked down at their joined hands. His grip was warm, reassuring, the touch of a friend who cared about her.

Nothing more.

"I should get some sleep," she said, pulling away. "It's been a long day."

"Okay." He smiled. "Goodnight, Nadia."

"Goodnight."

She walked back inside, past the candlelit living room where Adaeze sat reading, past the stairs that led to her room. She didn't stop until she was behind the closed door, her back against the wood, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

You deserve more than you think you do.

She pressed her hand to her mouth and slid down to the floor.

The storm raged on outside, and Nadia sat in the dark and wondered how she was supposed to survive the rest of this trip.

---

End of Chapter Three