Zara || A Nigerian Lesbian

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎

𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙰
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

"Maybe we should go inside and talk?" Madam Chinwe's voice was calm as she glanced around the parking lot. The whole place was pitch black, with no lampposts to even help someone see clearly.

All that we had was the exterior lights on the restaurant. "Can you wait for me in the car?" i asked Yasmin, and she was already nodding.

"I'll let my driver know I won't be needing him. I'll be here." Her words were soft for me, but her gaze was fixated on her mother—stern. She simply pretended Yasmin wasn't looking in her direction.

I nodded in agreement and turned to her mother. My head was spinning with thoughts, especially the fact that I was only a pawn and didn't earn this investment. I knew better to think I deserved such a massive investment.

As we walked back into the restaurant, our heels clicking on the pavement as I gathered composure. Taking each step, I reminded myself that Yasmin loved me. She told me she loved me. That was all that mattered—at this moment. No matter the stunt her mother tries to pull, or what she thought she could achieve with her deceitfulness, it would not tear us apart.

More tears gathered in the corner of my eye as we took our seats. You are too emotional.

"There is a story I need to tell you before you make any judgments," Madam Chinwe finally uttered.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I brace myself for what's to come. I had no choice but to listen to her, even if all she had done was lying and deceiving the woman I love and me. There was no need to be angry at her, not after Yasmin and I had sorted out our differences.

"Years ago, as I am sure Yasmin should have told you, my late husband did something horrible. Before that, no one in my family thought he was a good man for me because he didn't come from money, but I knew he loved, and that was all that mattered to me."

Yasmin and I never discussed her family dynamics, so it was all new to me.

Her words were torn from her throat because she barely spoke as tears filled her eyes. "I cared for my husband, but he never attempted to make use of his life responsibly, and that was stupid. I told him that every day of his life, I was cruel and evil towards him. But I still loved him, but because we were going through hard times, I told him I didn't love him—I even said worse."

She tried to focus on something, maintaining her poise—tears still leaked from her eyes.

"I would never forget what I made him do the night he took his life."

Why was she telling me all this? I knew she and Yasmin had issues, but I didn't have a clue that the problems were this deep.

"It was all my fault. I drove my husband to do what he did. After I told him..." She closed her eyes and didn't finish. When she opened them, she shook her head and continued. "When I told her father that Yasmin was having an affair with a woman, while she was still married to Emenike, I blamed her him. I told him it was his irresponsibility that drove Yasmin to the arms of another woman. Even if I knew she was always drawn to women even before she was married. The night he killed himself, he made sure he got rid of Yasmin's lover. And all he could say to me was 'Her lover is dead, I will be dead, your life will be as miserable as you made mine.'"

"I am so sorry," I whispered, feeling my own tears accumulating.

She cut me off, waving her hand. "Yasmin heard us arguing that night, and she overheard him talking about how he paid for her lover to be killed. I had already lost my husband, and now I was going to lose my daughter. She hated me and was angry that I didn't stand up for her or even let her know about her father's plans. It happened so fast. My entire world was crashing all at the same time. After her father's death, Yasmin always acted out, and I would always tell her she was like her father. I thought hard love was the best way to communicate with her—I was wrong. I was very wrong."