The moment Nneka said the name Ada, Olu's entire body stiffened.
His jaw tightened, his eyes shifted, and a muscle near his cheek twitched — a small movement, but loud enough to answer her question.
He didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he walked to the chair, picked up his phone from the table, and turned the screen away from her.
That gesture alone confirmed everything.
Nneka's chest felt hollow.
"Olu," she whispered again, "who is she?"
He didn't look at her.
Instead, he took a long breath.
"She's nobody," he said flatly.
"Nobody?" Nneka repeated quietly. "Someone who texts you at night… someone who asks if your wife suspects?"
Olu's eyes flashed with irritation instead of remorse.
"You were reading my messages?" he snapped.
Her heart broke a little more.
"Olu, your phone was on the table. The messages popped up. I didn't touch it."
"You should have minded your business," he shot back.
The words stung like a fresh wound.
Minded her business?
Wasn't he her husband?
Wasn't their marriage her business?
Nneka swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Olu threw his hands up.
"Why are you making a big deal out of nothing? I told you — she is nobody."
"Nobody doesn't call you 'my love,'" she whispered.
For a second, guilt washed over his face, softening the hardness.
But pride — the new pride money had brought — rose up like a wall.
"You're too insecure, Nneka," he said coldly.
"That's your problem."
She blinked.
Insecure?
After everything she had sacrificed?
After all her late nights, her prayers, her hustle, her loyalty?
Nneka felt something inside her crack.
⸻
The Quiet Pain
She didn't argue.
She didn't scream.
She didn't fight him.
She simply stood up and walked to the bedroom.
Olu sat in the living room, scrolling his phone, pretending nothing had happened.
Nneka lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark.
Her heart felt too heavy for her chest.
She remembered when he used to hold her at night.
She remembered when he couldn't sleep without her.
She remembered the promises they made:
"We will build this life together."
"You're the woman of my dreams."
"No matter how life changes, we won't change."
But life had changed.
Money had changed.
He had changed.
And she was losing him… little by little… piece by piece.
She turned to face the wall, tears soaking her pillow silently.
⸻
Morning After
The next day, Olu behaved as if nothing had happened.
He ate quickly and prepared to leave for work.
Nneka whispered, "Can we talk?"
He paused at the door.
"For what? I said it was nothing," he replied casually.
Then he walked out.
The door shut with a quiet thud —
but it felt like it slammed inside her chest.
⸻
A Warning From a Stranger
Later that afternoon, Nneka was in her shop when a woman walked in.
She looked older, maybe in her late forties, with a peaceful but serious face.
"You are Olu's wife, right?" she asked.
Nneka nodded, confused and wary.
The woman sighed.
"My dear, I don't want to interfere, but… I've seen your husband several times at the bar near my house. He goes there with a girl — small, light-skinned, overly dressed. She calls herself Ada."
Nneka's heart dropped again.
"I thought you should know," the woman said softly. "Because you seem like a good woman."
She touched Nneka's arm gently, the way a mother touches a child in pain, then left.
Nneka stood frozen behind her counter.
Her fears were true.
Ngozi's words were true.
Ada's messages were true.
This stranger's warning was true.
The foundation of her marriage was cracking — and she didn't know how much more it could take.
She held the counter for support and whispered to herself:
"God, give me strength…"
But even her voice sounded tired.
⸻
End of Chapter 4