5th
315 Words
Chapter Five: “The Door”
She didn’t click the email.
Not right away.
It sat there, bold and unread, like a stranger knocking softly while the ghosts in her mind screamed louder.
Her fingers hovered.
Then retracted.
She closed the laptop.
Not yet.
Because part of her was still searching for him — not to return, not to explain, but maybe… to apologize. To say her pain mattered. To acknowledge the crater he left behind.
But no apology came.
Only more posts.
A honeymoon highlight reel with Lara. Champagne kisses. Beach sunsets. “Grateful for love and loyalty.”
Loyalty?
She laughed once — dry, brittle — and then cried so hard she choked on the air.
Her chest ached in places no doctor could reach.
The days blurred.
She didn’t bathe for two.
Didn’t eat for one.
Didn’t open the curtains for five.
Her phone battery died. She let it.
Her inbox grew. She ignored it.
And still — no one from their circle came to her door.
Except for Amaka.
Her neighbor.
Not a blogger. Not an influencer.
Just a kind woman with a loud laugh and extra jollof rice.
She knocked one morning with a warm plate and said,
“I don’t care what happened. You still deserve to eat, my dear.”
That small act cracked something open.
She ate. Slowly. Tearfully. But she ate.
And that night, she opened the laptop again.
The email was still there.
But this time, she clicked.
"Dear [Her Name],
We know your story. We watched your light dim, but we haven’t forgotten how brightly you used to shine. You don’t owe the world a performance, but you owe yourself a comeback. Not for them. For you.
If you're willing, let’s talk."
Her hand hovered over the reply box.
She wasn’t sure she was ready.
But maybe… she was tired of being not ready.
- Writer
