That night, sleep was a stranger. I lay in the dark, phone still warm in my palm, her words replaying over and over like a stubborn song I didn’t want to learn. “I gave up my slot for you.” “I thought you’d come to scatter it.” “He was married in the US… two kids.”

Each sentence felt like a knife being slowly pulled out… then pushed back in. I stared at the ceiling, the fan’s shadow spinning lazily on the wall as power went out. Somewhere outside, a generator coughed to life, but inside my head, the only noise was her voice. “Your father’s money… wasted.”

“Your loyalty… mocked.” “We must save another sister.”

And then that last message, the photo. Me and Chijioke. My cheek grazing his. His hand secure at the small of my back. Our bodies in sync under the dim wedding lights.

The caption mocked me. “This is not what I expected.” Not what she expected. Not what I expected either.

Because suddenly, I cared about how it looked. My mind wandered to the lipstick thing in Chijioke’s room. Bright red. The text: Has she seen the lipstick?

Had I been played? Was he part of the same circus my ex was running? Or was he another unsuspecting clown like me? I tossed. I turned. I imagined my ex, tucked into bed beside his new bride, smiling in his sleep like a man who’d won. Meanwhile, I was here, unshowered, hair in a scarf, dignity somewhere between the kitchen sink and the trash bin. At 3:14am, I found myself scrolling through old photos. The three of us, me, him, and the life I thought we were building. Birthdays. Lunch dates. The trip to Calabar.

And now, just… ruins. Her words kept circling back: “This was just the wedding party. The legal paperwork is next week.”

“If we can stop that, we can save her.” Could I really do it? Could I ruin the man who had ruined me? And if I did…

Would Chijioke be standing beside me? Or standing in my way? By morning, my eyes were burning. But my heart had settled on one thing: I wasn’t going to let this slide. Not this time.

By 9:00am, I’d replayed the voice note at least five times.

Her voice wasn’t shaking. No desperation.

This wasn’t a woman begging me to believe her, it was someone sure of what she was saying. And she knew me too well. “I thought you’d come to scatter it…”

“Do you even know he was married in the US… two kids…” Those words felt like acid. I sat at my dressing table, staring at my phone. Part of me wanted to block her and pretend this was all a hallucination brought on by bad suya. But another part, the part that had been humiliated, discarded, and replaced in less than eight weeks, wanted to text back:

“We need to meet?”

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. A knock on my door interrupted me. Three short raps. Not the hesitant, “I’m lost” kind. This was confident. Like the person on the other side already owned the moment. I opened the door.

Chijioke. “Morning,” he said, casual… too casual. He had on that crisp, dark blue shirt, sleeves rolled, collar slightly open. The kind of shirt that says I’m here for business… but I could stay for pleasure. I folded my arms. My mouth was wide open in shock.

“How do you know where I live?” He stepped in without waiting to be invited, glancing around like he was checking for hidden cameras. “Do you live alone?” He asked. “None of your business” I retorted.

He started at me for a long time, I felt my knees almost give way. Oh Common! Nma behave yourself…This guy could be trouble! “Someone is trying to get me to turn against you” That caught me off guard. “What do you mean?” He pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found a screenshot. It was a DM. From a different account than the one that messaged me. “You don’t know her like we do. Be careful. She’s trouble.”

Attached…

A zoomed‑in photo of me from the wedding, laughing in his direction. Something inside me twisted. Which kain wahala be this? Sheebi I could have just stayed home yesterday. Why did I go and complicate my life like this ? “Who could this be?” I asked. “No idea…I thought you might have an idea” He said. I studied his face. No smirk this time. No easy charm. Just… watchfulness. Like he was weighing whether to trust me. And then he dropped it: “I think the bride is behind this.” I blinked.

“What?” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Yes that’s the kind of thing she does. She can be quite childish. I know she thinks she is in love, but she can go to any length to protect the love.” He took another step and my stupid heart was already doing a backflip. So the bride was pissed that he had gotten too cozy with me and sent one of her minions to plant stuff in his room before I could wake up and while he was in the shower. I listened to everything he said. But somewhere I got lost and was just watching his beautiful lips moved. He touched me and I jerked out of my Reverie

“I think there are many things we have to talk about” “ I would like us to get to know each other better”

I didn’t answer him immediately. He stood there in my living room, shirt sleeves rolled, voice dripping with that calm confidence. I gave him a polite smile. The kind you give a stranger who thinks you owe them a favour. “I’ll… think about it.” The truth? I wasn’t sure of who he really was. As much as my heart was betraying me, my brain needed to stay in control. The mystery woman had given me a mission: Save the bride. And right now, Chijioke was still part of the same circus.

I wasn’t about to dissapoint myself again like I did yesterday. He lingered a little longer, making small talk. Something about the weather. The traffic. The coffee at some place in Maitama. But every word felt like a chess move. It felt like he was studying me. Measuring my reactions.

Trying to see if I was holding something back. I was. Everything

When he finally left, I locked the door and exhaled. The room felt bigger without him in it, but my mind was still crowded. Crowded with questions… … and that photo of us dancing. I sat at my desk and typed:

“We need to meet?”

It took less than two minutes for the mystery woman to reply:

“Today. 5pm. Wuse. Alone.”

She attached a location pin. An unmarked café. The kind of place you’d pass ten times and never notice.

“Alone.”

I read it twice. Then again. The instruction wasn’t just about secrecy, it was a warning. If she thought Chijioke could be trusted, she wouldn’t be this adamant. I closed my eyes for a moment. The night before replayed in my head, the lipstick in Chijioke’s room.

That text: Has she seen the lipstick?

The photo caption: This is not what I expected.

All roads seemed to lead back to him. And yet… I couldn’t shake the feeling that he might also be a road to the truth. By 4:15pm, I was dressed. Black jeans. Loose top. Sunglasses big enough to cover my face. I told myself it wasn’t fear, it was preparation. At 4:45, my phone buzzed. Chijioke.

“Where are you?”

I stared at the message. Typed back: “Busy.”

And for the first time since this whole madness started, I felt like the one holding the cards. I slipped my phone into my bag, grabbed my keys, and headed for Wuse. Whatever happened today… I’d finally see the face behind the voice.

Nma’s Diaries….Life…Lessons…And everything inbetween