Anna sat on a weathered wooden bench at the train station, her designer luggage stacked neatly beside her. A cool breeze stirred the pages of a newspaper held by a man seated nearby, while a mother reprimanded her two sons for their reckless play. A couple, lost in their own world, captured a selfie, and two friends chuckled over something amusing on their phone. The world around her moved in its usual rhythm, yet within her mind, time stood still.
Her train was scheduled to arrive in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to determine the course of her future.
She was adorned in an elegant yellow and white Versace dress—a gift from her husband, David, to mark their first month of marriage. A Cartier bracelet gleamed on her wrist, a present she had bought for herself on her last birthday. Her Louis Vuitton purse rested atop her suitcase, and on her feet were rare Chanel heels. She had chosen this attire deliberately, intending to make a statement. But who was she truly trying to convince? Him? Or herself?Anna’s marriage was only three months old, yet already it bore the weight of a lifetime of disillusionment. She had stood by David for four years, disregarding the warning signs that had presented themselves along the way. Rumours of his infidelity had surfaced repeatedly, whispered among friends and acquaintances, but she had refused to heed them. Love had blinded her; trust had bound her.She recalled the day she introduced David to her family. Her parents had beamed with pride, their voices rich with Igbo praises:
“Nwaanyi oma, i mechara m anya! O di gi nma! O di ka odi, o di mma!”(A good woman, you have pleased me! He is a good man! It is as it should be, all is well!)
But all had not been well.
Even on her wedding day, a murmur had reached her ears—that David had been intimate with one of her bridesmaids. She had dismissed it, unwilling to taint what should have been the happiest day of her life. Now, however, she knew the truth. The man she had chosen was not the man she had believed him to be.Her business trip had been planned for four days, but she had successfully concluded her work in two. Eager to surprise her husband, she had booked an early flight home. He had dropped her off at the airport, kissed her goodbye, and told her he would miss her. That very morning, she had spoken to him before boarding her flight. He had assured her that he was about to enter a business meeting.Yet, when she arrived home, the sounds filtering from their bedroom told a different story.
Laughter. Whispered words. Moans.
Her heart pounded as she pushed open the door.
There, in the bed they shared, was David—entwined with another woman.
The breath fled from her lungs.
She did not scream. She did not cry. She simply turned, packed a bag, and left.Her father’s house had once been a sanctuary, a place of comfort. But this time, it did not embrace her as she had hoped.
The elders had gathered, their voices laced with authority.
"Is he the first man to cheat?" uncle Eke asked, arching a brow.
"He will not be the last," another said with an air of finality.
"Marriage is not easy, nwa m. You must endure," her aunty Nneka insisted, as though endurance were the foundation of love.
Then, David had come—not to apologise, but to reclaim what he considered his.
"When you are ready, come back home," he had said. "I will pick you up from the station."
No remorse. No accountability.Now, sitting at the train station, she allowed herself to ask the question she had been avoiding.
"Do I have to return to him?"
She gazed at her reflection in the glass panel beside her. She was beautiful, intelligent, accomplished. A woman who had given her heart completely, only to be repaid with betrayal.
"I am a complete package—beauty, character, intelligence. Why should I settle for a man who does not even respect me?"
The train approached in the distance, its sound growing loud.Anna made her decision, rose up, picked her luggage turned away from the train bounded for David.Walking from it all.