Forever To Silence Episode 3

The day everything changed didn’t start like a disaster. It was quiet. Too quiet. I woke up with a strange heaviness in my chest, the kind that comes when your spirit senses something your mind is not ready to accept.

I hadn’t heard from Folarin in three days.

No calls. No messages. Nothing.

I tried to stay busy cleaning the house, washing clothes, forcing myself to eat but my phone never left my hand. Every vibration made my heart race, every silence felt like rejection.

That evening, just as I was about to give up hope, my phone rang.

His name.

My hands shook as I answered. Relief washed over me for a second until I heard his voice. It was calm, too calm. No affection. No apology. Just distance wrapped in politeness.

“We need to talk,” he said.

Those four words have ended many lives, and mine began to bleed the moment I heard them.

I asked if he was okay. He ignored the question. I asked if something was wrong. He sighed deeply, like I was exhausting him.

“You’re too emotional,” he said.

“You put too much pressure on me.”

“I need space.”

Space.

I reminded him that I was his wife, not his enemy. I reminded him of the sacrifices, the money, the prayers, the nights I cried alone. My voice broke as I spoke, but he remained unmoved.

Then he said it.

“I don’t think this marriage is working.”

The words hit me like a slap. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. My world spun as memories flooded my mind—our wedding day, the promises, the laughter, the dreams we shared.

I asked him if there was someone else.

There was a pause.

Silence can scream louder than confession.

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t confirm it either. Instead, he said, “I’ve changed. I’m not the same man anymore.”

Changed how? Changed for who?

I begged him to remember us. To remember love. To remember God. I told him I was willing to do anything to fix the marriage.

That was when he said something that broke me completely.

“You helped me when I needed you. I appreciate that. But I want a different life now.”

Different life.

So that was it. I was a season. A stepping stone. A sacrifice that no longer mattered.

The call ended shortly after. No fight. No closure. Just a goodbye wrapped in cold gratitude.

I dropped the phone and screamed until my throat burned. I cried until my eyes swelled shut. For the first time since I met Folarin, I felt truly abandoned.

That night, I didn’t pray. I didn’t cry anymore. I just stared into the darkness, asking myself one painful question:

Was I ever loved or was I only useful?

Continue reading Episode 4