When Love Wasn’t Enough

CHAPTER ONE When Love Wasn’t Enough Imani hated events like this. Too much perfume. Too many people laughing like life wasn’t hard. Too many couples holding hands like love was guaranteed. She paused at the entrance of the hall, clutching her purse like it could protect her. Her phone was in her hand, the screen lighting up with Bisi’s message. Bisi: Where are you? Don’t tell me you ran away. Imani exhaled and typed back. Imani:Outside. A reply came instantly. Bisi:Enter. And stop standing there like you’re about to confess to a crime. I’m coming. Imani rolled her eyes, but her chest felt tight. She adjusted her purse strap and walked in. Music. Laughter. Bright lights. People dressed like money. The whole place smelled like expensive decisions. She moved deeper into the crowd, forcing her face to relax like she wasn’t spiraling. And then she saw him. Zayd. Tall. Clean. A dark suit that looked like it was made for him. One hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass, speaking calmly to someone like he didn’t have a care in the world. Imani’s stomach dropped. Of course, he looked fine. Of course, he looked like the breakup didn’t touch him. Her eyes stayed on him for one stupid second too long, and as he felt it, Zayd turned. Their eyes met. Everything inside Imani went quiet. His gaze moved slowly over her—hair, dress, face—like he couldn’t stop himself. His jaw tightened. Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Surprise. And something that made her chest ache. Imani looked away first. Always first. Because she refused to let him see what he still did to her. She headed for the drinks table and grabbed water. Alcohol would make her emotional and she wasn’t giving anyone that satisfaction. As she took a sip, heels clicked beside her. “Imani.” Bisi appeared, wearing red like she wanted attention to fight her. She looked Imani up and down and nodded approvingly. “You look hot. Good.” Imani gave a small laugh. “I don’t even want to be here.” Bisi leaned closer. “He’s here.” “I saw him.” “And?” Imani swallowed. “And nothing.” Bisi raised an eyebrow like she didn’t believe her. “Don’t let him shake you. You’re not a small girl.” Imani wanted to say I’m literally shaking, but she just nodded. Bisi hooked her arm. “Come. Let’s greet the celebrants.” They went to the front table. The bride-to-be was glowing, smiling like she hadn’t ever cried over a man. Imani congratulated her, smiled politely, did the small talk. As they turned away, Bisi whispered, “That’s Zayd’s cousin.” Imani paused. “What?” Bisi nodded. “That’s why he’s here.” Something about that felt too close. Too personal. Imani glanced back at the table and noticed a woman sitting two seats away—elegant, quiet, perfect. The kind of woman mothers loved instantly. The woman looked up. Her eyes met Imani’s. And she smiled. Not warm. Not friendly. Just… knowing. Imani’s throat tightened. She turned to Bisi. “Who is that?” Bisi’s face shifted. “Oh.” “Bisi.” “That’s Safiya.” Imani blinked. “Safiya who?” Bisi held her gaze. “Zayd’s fiancée.” Imani froze. Her brain refused to accept it at first—like the words had no meaning. Then they hit. Fiancée. Zayd. Imani’s mouth went dry. She turned, searching for him again. He was walking toward the table. Toward Safiya. He leaned down, said something to her, and Safiya smiled up at him like she owned him. Then Zayd touched her shoulder gently. Like it was normal. Like it was his right. Imani felt something c***k in her chest. Bisi touched her arm. “Imani, I didn’t know—” “Let’s go,” Imani said, voice too calm. “Imani—” “Now.” She turned away, but before she could take two steps, a hand grabbed her wrist. Warm. Firm. Familiar. Her entire body stiffened. “Imani.” She turned slowly. Zayd stood close enough that she could smell him—that same cologne that used to cling to her clothes. His eyes were dark, tense, almost… panicked. “You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said. Imani stared at him, then smiled without joy. “Neither was your fiancée.” His jaw clenched. “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” Imani whispered. “Don’t react? Don’t ask questions? Don’t act like I’m not watching you stand beside another woman like she’s your future?” “Not here,” he said. Imani let out a bitter laugh. “So where? Somewhere private so you can explain properly?” Zayd stepped closer, voice low. “Imani. Please.” Please. That word nearly broke her. “You’re engaged,” she said quietly. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know?” He opened his mouth, closed it. Like he couldn’t find a lie that sounded good. Then he said it. “It’s not what you think.” Imani’s eyes stung. “I came here hoping I’d see you and feel nothing,” she said. “But I still felt you. And that makes me feel stupid.” “You’re not stupid,” he murmured. Imani nodded once. “No. I’m not.” She pulled her wrist free. “I’m just the girl you loved until your family told you to stop.” Zayd’s face hardened. “That’s not—” “Don’t touch me again,” Imani cut in. And she walked away before her tears could fall where he could see them.