It was a scorching Sunday afternoon at home, and the power supply had been out for roughly 6 days. My roommate and I had turned the garage into our relaxation spot, sitting on an abandoned sofa near the window to catch any breeze that might come our way.
We had been laughing and gossiping about so many things—her dreams of starting a barbecue business and my struggle to adjust to a city so different from where I grew up. Everything felt just like a normal, easy moment for her.
But I knew I had to tell her. My secret had been sitting heavy on my chest for weeks, threatening to choke me. As I glanced at her vibrant face, I wondered how she would react. “Would she understand? Would she even want to remain in this garage with me after I told her?”
I breathed in and out, trying to stabilize my heartbeat, but my voice was evident that what I was about to say was a tomb. "There's something I need to tell you."
She paused mid-laugh, "What is it? You sound too serious."
I fiddled with my all-back hairstyle, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. "I was the one that told your man what happened on your... birthday."
Her mouth opened in shock, but no words came out. My own words hung in the air like a thundercloud waiting to burst. The silence was followed with high tension, broken only by the sound of children playing kite outside.
"But… I asked you that day, and what... did you say?" She finally managed, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"Yes," I said, feeling a mix of guilt as I let it out. "I didn't mean for all this to happen. You know how desperately I'm in need of clearing most of my bills. He promised to help me clear the bills if I told him what happened that day. I had no choice but to do so knowing that the bills would be off my shoulders."
She sat back, looking disappointedly at me as if trying to process the bomb I just dropped. It felt bad as I watched her struggle to absorb the info. I had built my six months of life here with her doing everything together. She had been my backbone in a city I knew nothing about, and now I was pulling the rug from under both our feet.
"I thought you agreed to cover me up?" she said, her voice soft but trembling. "I told you how I wanted this to be a secret he should never have a glue of, and you promised and crossed your heart. And what did you do—snitched on me because of your problems?"
The guilt gnawed at me. She was right. We had spent months figuring out how to live in Bauchi and achieve our goals—how to be each other's family. And now I was the one that spoiled everything; she lost her trust in me and her relationship in the mud.
"I didn't plan for this," I said quietly. "I told you how bad I hate owing people, coupled with how long the debt has been. And... I couldn't say no. You know how hard things are."
She shook her head, and I saw the tears she was trying to hide. "So, it's about survival then. Everyone for themselves."
Her words hit me like a slap. In her eyes, it probably looked like betrayal. I knew I shouldn't have done what I did but I couldn't help it. Telling her guy she left Bauchi on her birthday to visit a guy 1,000 kilometers from our residence. All for the benefits that would come with the visit.
The rest of the afternoon passed in silence. She left the sofa for the sitting room, the bombshell still echoing in the air between us.
That night, as we shared the bed, I realized something: even though I had dropped the bombshell, She couldn't leave the house because our rent wasn't due. We continued our daily lives, but there was a limit to what she could tell me; everything about how we used to live changed.
Though it took some time for them to reconcile, seeing they got back together after a long time not being in good terms was the happiest thing for me.What happened to me? I lost their trust even though they didn't say it to my face.
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