The Beginning of Always
Ayo met Zainab on a rainy Sunday at a bookshop in Lekki.
He wasn't looking for love, he just wanted to escape the noise of the city. But there she was. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, reading a book upside down, humming a tune like the world was hers to keep quiet.
She looked up, caught him staring, and smiled.
"Do you read… or you just like watching people who do?"
He laughed. That was the first time in years he felt seen.
Three months later, they got married under a tree in her late grandmother's compound in Abeokuta. It was intimate. No fancy lights. No long speeches. Just love, raw and present.
For five years, it was perfect at least from the outside. Zainab, a school teacher. Ayo, a growing entrepreneur in real estate. They were that couple goofy, intentional, deeply affectionate.
But somewhere in the fourth year, something started to shift.
2. The Space Between
It was subtle at first.
Ayo started staying out later. Business trips doubled. His texts grew shorter. The cuddles became quick hugs. The kisses turned into forehead pecks.
Zainab felt it. Women always do.
But she didn't want to seem insecure. She told herself it was just stress. That he'd come back around. That maybe she needed to be more supportive, more exciting.
So she started dressing up more. Left notes in his car. Cooked his favorite meals. Planned surprise date nights.
But he was never really… there.
One night, while he was in Abuja for "work," Zainab saw the notification flash on his iPad.
She hadn't meant to look. But the message stayed:
"Can't wait to see you again. Last night was everything. ❤️"
She stared at it for a long time.
Not shocked. Just… quiet.
That's the thing about betrayal it doesn't always hit you like a slap. Sometimes it seeps in like cold water, slow and chilling.
3. The Other Woman
Her name was Amara.
Zainab found her on Instagram. She was stunning dark-skinned, modelesque, free spirited. The kind of woman who posted long captions about healing, growth, and being a "soft babe."
Ayo was commenting under her posts. Liking her bikini photos. He wasn't even hiding it.
Zainab never confronted him.
Instead, she waited.
When he came home that weekend, she served him dinner, smiled like everything was fine. Let him undress. Let him kiss her. Let him hold her like nothing had changed.
But it had.
Zainab cried in the shower that night. Cried without sound.
She wasn't crying for the betrayal.
She was mourning the death of who they used to be.
4. The Breaking Point
It came on a Sunday morning.
Ayo stood at the doorway, suitcase by his side, guilt all over his face.
"I need time," he said. "To figure myself out."
She looked at him, calm and composed. "And her?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
"I hope she gives you what you're looking for," Zainab whispered.
And with that, she stepped aside. Let him go.
He left their apartment smelling like fresh bread and bergamot candles.
He left her with silence and a wedding ring that now felt heavier than ever.
5. Life After Love
Zainab didn't crumble not the way people expected.
She went back to teaching, started journaling again. She picked up yoga. She cut her hair. She smiled more.
Her friends thought she was healing fast.
But healing doesn't mean you're not broken. It just means you're choosing to keep walking.
She started posting again photos of sunsets, her students' art, coffee dates. She was creating a life… not to prove anything, but to survive.
Ayo watched from afar.
He didn't block her. Didn't unfollow.
Just watched.
Meanwhile, his life with Amara wasn't as he imagined.
Amara was bold, beautiful… and distant.
She didn't laugh at his jokes the way Zainab did.
She didn't remember how he liked his tea or remind him to call his mother.
She loved him, maybe. But not in that soft, knowing way Zainab did.
He started comparing.
Then he started regretting.
But by then, time had done what time does it moved on.
6. The Letter
Exactly one year after he left, Ayo got a letter in the mail.
No sender name. No return address. But the handwriting was familiar.
It was from Zainab.
Dear Ayo,
You once told me I was your peace.
That with me, you felt seen, felt safe.
But you left anyway.
I won't ask why. I don't need the answer anymore.
I just wanted you to know… I still think of the man I married.
Not with anger, not with longing. Just… with softness.
Because he was real. And what we shared, for a while, was real too.
I hope you find what you were chasing.
And I hope, one day, you forgive yourself.
Ayo didn't realize he was crying until a tear hit the paper.
7. The Unexpected
Two months later, Ayo saw her.
He was at a friend's gallery opening in Ikoyi. And there she was Zainab. In a white dress, holding hands with someone else.
Tall. Well-dressed. The type of man who looked like he wrote poetry at midnight and opened car doors.
They looked happy.
She hadn't seen Ayo. Or maybe she had… and chose not to.
He stood there for a while, frozen in a crowd that kept moving.
That night, he didn't sleep.
He didn't call Amara. Didn't text anyone.
He just sat in the dark…
finally understanding what it meant to lose something good
because you didn't know how to appreciate it when it was yours.
8. Full Circle
Months passed. Amara moved to Ghana for work.
They tried to keep it going, but Ayo let it fade.
He tried to reach out to Zainab once sent a message.
"Just checking in. I hope you're okay."
She replied, hours later.
"I'm more than okay. Thank you."
Short. Final. Peaceful.
He smiled. It hurt, but it felt right.
9. The Truth He'll Carry
Ayo still visits the bookshop in Lekki sometimes.
He walks past the aisle where he first saw her.
No one sits on the floor reading upside down anymore.
But the memory stays.
He carries it like a photo in his pocket
folded, faded, but never forgotten.
He called it love.
But love doesn't leave.
Not like that.