Chapter 3: Trapped in Fear

After my matriculation, I convinced myself things would get better. Dami apologized over and over for the way he'd ruined my day, and I wanted so badly to believe him. I wanted to believe in the love we shared, to believe his anger was just a phase and something we could overcome. And for a while, it seemed like we did.

On the surface, everything looked fine. We laughed, we shared meals, and we had those quiet moments of affection that made me think maybe this was normal. Maybe this was just a rough patch every couple went through. But underneath it all, fear was growing inside me and slowly, quietly, until it became a constant companion.

We lived together in my small school apartment, but it never really felt like home. Every step I took felt calculated and every word measured. I was always careful, afraid of doing something that would set him off. The room we shared felt more like a cage, and his presence became a weight I carried everywhere.

I stopped going out. If my friends invited me anywhere, I made excuses. Even when I needed to go to class, I felt his eyes on me and questioning, suspicious, possessive. And if I dared to leave without him, the interrogation when I got back was almost worse than the fights.

The worst part? I kept it all a secret.

My family had no idea what I was going through. I didn't want them to worry, and I didn't want to admit the truth that the person I had chosen, the person I loved, was hurting me. It was easier to pretend everything was fine. The only people who knew were Dami's younger sister, Ugo, and his elder brother, Andy. They had seen the signs, and they'd tried to talk to him but nothing changed.

Sometimes, I wondered why they didn't do more. But I also knew why. Dami was stubborn, and his temper was unpredictable. Confronting him often made things worse. So they settled for offering me quiet support, hoping I'd find the strength to leave.

But I wasn't ready. Not yet.

One day, just before Dami was supposed to travel, he got a phone call that sent his mood spiraling. He reared dogs a hobby he was deeply passionate about and one of them had fallen sick. The dog was on the brink of death, and the news devastated him.

When he left for his trip, I thought maybe the time apart would help. Maybe he'd come back in a better mood. But when he returned, the sadness in his eyes had turned into something darker. He was distant and cold, his silence heavy and oppressive.

I tried everything to cheer him up. I cracked jokes, put on his favorite movie, and even offered to give him a massage but nothing worked. He barely acknowledged me, his answers short and clipped.

Finally, I decided to give him space. I went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, hoping a good meal might ease his mood. I was stirring the pot when my phone rang.

It was Mike, my coursemate.

"Hey," he said warmly. "Have you written the physics assignment yet?"

It was an innocent question, but the moment Dami heard Mike's voice, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew heavy, and I felt the storm coming before I even turned around.

As soon as I ended the call, Dami was there and his face twisted with anger.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"It's just Mike," I said quickly. "My coursemate. He was asking about"

"I told you to stop talking to guys!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the small apartment.

"Dami, it's not like that"

But he wasn't listening. Before I knew it, he was on me with his hands gripping my arms tightly. I struggled, trying to break free, but he was too strong.

"I warned you!" he hissed, his face inches from mine. "But you never listen!"

My heart pounded as panic flooded my body. When he released me, I stumbled back, my eyes darting toward the kitchen door. I didn't know what he was going to do next, but I knew I couldn't stay to find out.

When he turned toward the kitchen counter, I saw my chance. Without thinking, I bolted, running barefoot out of the apartment and into the night.

The cool air hit my face, but I didn't stop. I ran down the street, my feet slapping against the pavement, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Behind me, I heard his footsteps heavy and fast.

"Come back here!" he shouted.

But I didn't. I couldn't.

I turned a corner and kept running until my legs burned and my vision blurred. Finally, when I was sure he wasn't behind me anymore, I ducked into a quiet alley and fumbled for my phone. My hands were shaking so badly that it took me three tries to dial Ugo's number.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice soft with sleep.

"Ugo," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please… help me."

She was wide awake in an instant. "Where are you?"

I gave her my location, and she told me to come straight to her lodge. She didn't ask questions and not yet. She just told me to come.

When I finally reached her place, she pulled me inside and locked the door behind me. I collapsed onto her bed, my body trembling, and for the first time that night, I let the tears fall.

Ugo didn't push me to talk. She just sat beside me, rubbing my back, waiting until the sobs subsided.

"You can't keep living like this," she whispered eventually. "You know that, right?"

I nodded because I did know. But knowing and doing something about it were two very different things.

"I love him," I whispered. The words felt hollow even as I said them.

"I know," Ugo said softly. "But love shouldn't hurt like this."

That night, I slept at Ugo's lodge that's if you could call it sleep. Every sound made me flinch, every shadow made my heart race. I kept expecting Dami to show up, to drag me back, to punish me for running.

But morning came, and the sun rose without incident. I was safe. For now.

Still, I knew I couldn't stay there forever. I had to go back. And the thought of facing Dami again filled me with a dread so deep it was hard to breathe.

Ugo tried to convince me not to return. She offered to let me stay with her, to help me talk to my family but I wasn't ready. I was still clinging to hope, still believing that maybe things could change.

When I finally walked back into my apartment, Dami was waiting. He looked up from the couch, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Where did you go?" he asked, his voice quiet but dangerous.

"I needed some air," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stood and crossed the room in three steps, his hand cupping my face with a gentleness that made my stomach twist.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "I don't know what gets into me sometimes. I just… I love you so much. And the thought of losing you drives me crazy."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted so badly to believe this was love and that the pain was worth it.

So I stayed.

But deep down, I knew the fear wasn't going away. And the next time he snapped, I wasn't sure if I'd be lucky enough to escape.