TIE

Chapter 5

     Emenike’s mind was a chaotic mess. His thoughts raced, colliding with one another as guilt, fear, and frustration surged within him. He needed to do something, to act before everything fell apart. Without thinking, he grabbed his car keys and drove straight to Lara’s place. He wasn’t sure why—only that he had to see her. When he arrived, she was just stepping out of the house, surprise flickering across her face when she saw him.“Emenike! What are you doing here so early?” Lara asked, casually placing her belongings in the car. The calmness in her voice, the ease with which she spoke, only made the storm inside him worse. He had no words for her. The anger that had pushed him to drive there had dulled, replaced by a deeper sense of dread. The weight of his choices sat heavy in his chest, threatening to suffocate him.Without answering, Emenike walked toward her and hugged her tightly. He didn’t care about her questions or the confusion written on her face. For a moment, he let himself lean into the warmth of her embrace, feeling the dam inside him crack. The tears came without warning, spilling down his face as his body shook. He hadn’t cried in years, not since he was a boy. If his father were alive, he would have called him weak, a fool for letting his emotions show like this. But Emenike didn’t know what else to do.When he finally let go, he wiped his tears, shame washing over him. He was supposed to be strong, supposed to be in control. But here he was, breaking down in front of Lara like a helpless child.“Nkem, are you alright?” Lara asked softly, her voice full of concern. She used the old pet name she’d given him, but Emenike could hardly stand to hear it. All he could think about was how much he regretted marrying Chioma, how much simpler everything would have been if he had let Uncle Obiora marry her instead.“I’m sorry,” Emenike whispered, his voice barely steady. He reached for Lara’s hand, needing to anchor himself to something real. “I’m truly sorry.”“And why are you sorry? Don’t tell me you’ve married another woman,” Lara teased, trying to lighten the mood. But her words cut through him like a blade.“I’m sorry for everything,” Emenike said, his voice thick with guilt. “I know Chioma came to your office yesterday. You have every right to hate me.”“Shh,” Lara whispered, placing her hand over his lips gently. “Come on, let’s go inside.”Like a man walking to his own execution, Emenike followed her inside. They talked for hours, peeling back the layers of unresolved pain, regret, and misunderstandings. By the time the conversation ended, Emenike realized he had spent the entire day with her.Being a polygamist had never been part of his plan, but life had taken him down paths he could never have predicted. Now, all he could do was accept the life he had chosen, thorns and all.*******It was nearly evening, and Emenike still wasn’t back. The guilt gnawed at Chioma like a constant, relentless ache. She knew she had made a terrible mistake by going to Lara’s office, but desperation had driven her to it. What choice did she have? She had to do something—anything—because Emenike was slipping away from her, and the thought of losing him felt like a knife twisting deeper into her heart with every passing moment.Fear gripped her. What would happen to the children if he married someone else? Panic clawed at her chest. What if this strange woman demanded a share of the properties her late husband had left for her and the children? Chioma couldn’t breathe. The thought of her children losing what little security they had sent her spiraling into a pit of dread.Her hands trembled as she picked up the phone. She called the village, hoping, praying. But Nne Agnes wasn’t able—or willing—to speak to Emenike. Chioma felt her control slipping. Panic surged through her veins, rising like a tidal wave. She needed help, an ally, someone to stand with her before everything unraveled. She dialed Nne Adaego, Dike’s mother—her late husband’s mother—and spilled out her fears, her voice shaking with desperation. When Nne Adaego promised to come to Lagos on the next bus, Chioma felt a flicker of hope. But it was fragile, too fragile. She didn’t dare tell Nne Agnes about it. She couldn’t risk it—couldn’t risk losing the only bit of help she had left. Her life was coming apart at the seams, and she was holding on to the last threads.