ON THE WANE

ON THE WANE

Reads 409
Votes 46
Parts 27

Complete Thu, May 19, 20222h 16m

abuse ache death fading growth

.......And don't tell me nothing because we both know everything began to change after that day. You stopped laughing, you stopped smiling ... You changed'. ......... ********** ..........' Are you always this angry?' he asked. ' And do you always force people to marry you?' I countered back turning to face him...... *********** .........' How do you expect me not to tell her. Don't you know how I feel for betraying her already?'........ *********** ......... 'You are my business' he whispered softly. I raised a brow. 'Aww' I said in mock sweetness. 'Was that supposed to make me smile and hug you?'......... *********** .........'Kamara' He called me making me look up at him from where I lay on the bed. ' It gets better' He said to me. *********** ..............I'm your brother, you've always trusted me' ' And I've realized the mistake I made...... *********** Let's know Kammy's story and see how life turned out to be for her.

All Rights Reserved

Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.

You may also like

When Silence Breaks (Hausa Story)

They say a woman's success means nothing if she doesn't end up married. I used to laugh at that. Quietly. The kind of laughter that doesn't escape your lips, because you don't have time for arguments that go nowhere. My name is Ibtihal. I'm twenty-eight. I have two degrees, a corner office in Abuja, and enough money to make my own choices - or so I thought. But in a house where my mother prays more for my marriage than for my health, and my father treats every holiday like a matchmaking summit, my silence eventually became an agreement. Not because I was in love. Not even because I believed in the institution. But because I was tired. Tired of being the "too focused" one. The "still not married" one. The "career is not companionship" one. So I said yes. To a man I didn't know. A man who barely looked at me during the introduction. A man who, as I later found out, had someone else waiting for him - someone he actually loved. But he said yes too, because his uncle - the man who raised him after he lost his parents - asked him to. A year, we agreed. A year of pretending. No expectations. No intimacy. No emotional strings. Just two people performing tradition so the noise would stop. And I was fine with that. More than fine, actually. I didn't want love. I didn't want mess. I wanted space to breathe and be left alone. But then, something changed. It wasn't dramatic. There were no candlelit moments or sudden heartbeats. It was subtle - the way he started looking at me like I wasn't just a deal. The way my name sounded different coming from his lips. The way I began to notice his silence... and miss it when it wasn't there. I didn't mean to fall. And I don't think he meant to either. But here we are - trapped in a marriage neither of us wanted... now tangled in feelings neither of us planned for. And for the first time in my life, I'm not so sure I want to be left alone anymore.

Content Guidelines