Lies Between Us
Ben carefully placed the test kit on the bathroom sink, as if unsure of what he was doing.
“Just try,” he said, eyes fixed on the floor. “Maybe this time it’ll be positive.”
Zara didn’t say a word, just nodded as she picked up the kit and closed the door behind her.
Now sitting on the bathtub’s edge, her fingers trembled as she held the test. The dim light from the bedroom filtered in. The house felt too quiet, as if it were bracing itself for what would come.
She didn’t check the result—she already knew what it would say.
A gentle knock on the door stopped her thoughts.
“Zara?”
“Are you okay?”
Ben’s voice was low and steady. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her nightshirt, forcing herself to respond.
“I’m fine,” she said, though she knew it wasn’t true. Slowly, she opened the door, avoiding his eyes. Ben stood there barefoot, his T-shirt rumpled, worry all over his face.
He didn’t ask about the test. Instead, he opened his arms. After a brief hesitation, she stepped into his embrace.
They stood there, two people clinging to a future that always seemed just out of reach.
“My mom called,” Ben murmured into her hair.
Zara didn’t respond.
“She’s planning dinner on Sunday. She wants us to be there. Says it’s… important.”
That word again—“important.” It meant trouble coming from his mother.
Zara pulled back slightly. “Do I have to go?”
Ben exhaled softly. “She’s been asking a lot of questions lately.”
Zara turned and walked away. “About my womb, right?” she said, not bothering to hide the bitterness.
“Zara, wait—”
“Don’t.” She lifted the test, holding it up for him to see. “Another negative. But that won’t stop her, will it?”
Ben remained silent, and in that quiet, his silence said more than anything he could’ve. Zara turned to him, her voice softer now. “Do you still believe we’re in this together?”
He held her gaze longer than usual, and for just an instant, something shifted in his expression. It was gone before she could figure out.
“Always,” he replied, but the words came too quickly and easily—like a line he had rehearsed too many times.
~ ~ ~
Sunday came faster than they had expected. Zara put on a simple dress, gathering her braids into a low bun. She wore little makeup — dressing up and looking nice felt wrong for a night that promised judgment instead of comfort
Ben drove in silence, fingers tapping a slow, familiar rhythm on the wheel — a nervous habit Zara had learned to read. He looked either anxious or just tired, lately it was hard to tell which.
His parents mainland duplex was airy and spotless, with marble floors that gleamed under the light and furniture that seemed too precious to sit on. Framed quotes about legacy and family lined the walls, but they felt more like reminders obligation than signs of warmth.
His mother greeted them with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Zara,” she said, kissing her cheek. “You look lovely.”
Zara offered a polite smile in return. “Thank you, ma.”
She led them into the house and straight to the dining room, where a variety of dishes had been carefully set out on the table. Ben’s father sat at the head of the table, offering a brief nod as they came in.
Soon, they began to eat in silence, a silence so thick that the clinking of cutlery felt painfully loud. Every so often Ben’s father tossed a dry remark about politics, his mother spoke about a wedding she had heard of, her voice soft and detached—as if she were speaking so she could have something to say.
No one mentioned the distance between Zara and Ben, though it was on their minds. Zara pushed her rice around, she had already lost her appetite before they even arrived.
“I ran into Mrs. Adeyemi,” Ben’s mother said as she sliced the grilled fish. “Her daughter just had twins.”
Zara set her fork down slowly.
“Oh,” Ben said, trying to sound casual. “That’s wonderful.”
His mother looked at Zara. “She was married only a year. Some people are simply… blessed.”
Zara pressed her lips together. She could have replied, but stayed silent.
“We’re doing everything we can,” Ben cut in, words tumbling out.
His mother hummed. “That’s what we keep hearing,” she said.
Zara swallowed hard, the air felt dense and suffocating, and her hands wouldn’t stay still.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, already on her feet. “Bathroom.”
She hadn’t planned to eavesdrop, but the voices still drifted into her ears, and something inside her went still.
“We can’t wait forever, Ben,” his mother said, tone hard. “You’re thirty-eight. You need to think about your future.”
“We are,” Ben said, voice tight. “We’ve seen doctors. We’ve tried—”
“And what if it’s her?” she cut in. “What if she can’t have children? Then what?”
Zara’s breath caught.
Then, as if on cue, his father said, “There’s a girl in Abeokuta. She’s from a good family and has already been tested.”
She stepped back, hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. She nearly knocked over a vase but caught it just in time. Without waiting to hear what Ben might say next, she quickly walked away.
~ ~ ~
The drive home was quiet. Ben kept stealing glances at Zara, hoping she hadn’t heard what was said. He reached out for her hand, but she gently pulled away.
When they got home, she opened the car door and stepped out without a word, walking past Ben. She headed straight inside, her footsteps quick as she made her way to the bedroom. A moment later, Ben hurried in after her.
“Zara—”
“How long?”
Ben stood still.
“How long?” she said again, quieter this time. “How long have they been planning to replace me?”
“That’s not—”
“How long, Ben?” Her voice cracked on the last word.
He ran his hands over his face. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t agree to any of it. You have to believe me.”
She looked at him with wet eyes and a barely steady voice.
“Tell me the truth… do you even want to stay?
Do you still want me?”
He stood there, words stuck in his throat, unable to find a way to speak. Then finally he spoke, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
In that moment, something inside her broke.
“Get out.”
“Zara—”
“I said, get out.”
He turned and left the room just as she slammed the door in his face. Afterward, she finally broke down.
Later that night, while he was asleep upstairs, she sat alone in the kitchen, holding a folded piece of paper. The fluorescent light flickered softly overhead, and somewhere outside, the sound of a generator could be heard.
She carefully unfolded the paper, eyes scanning the familiar date, the name of the clinic, and the doctor’s hurried handwriting.
She stared for a long moment before reaching for a matchbox. Her hands were steady as she struck a match and lifted the tiny flame to the corner of the paper.
The little flame flickered and popped softly in the quiet room. She watched it burn before dropping the paper into a metal bucket.
~ ~ ~
Three days had passed since their fight. The silence between them was heavy, like something neither knew how to break. Unless she spoke first, Ben stayed quiet. Zara went about her days like he was a stranger in the room.
At night, they faced away from each other, the past lingering like a quiet weight between them.
When his mother called and said, “We need to talk. Just family. Come Friday,” neither of them asked why. They both knew it wasn’t going to be good.
Friday showed up gloomy and slow. The silence during the drive said more than words ever could. When they got to the house, it felt off—too still, like it was waiting for bad news.
The living room felt empty and cold, no food or warmth in sight—just people sitting quietly, like they were waiting for something bad.
Zara noticed a man she didn’t know—wearing glasses and a clean white shirt, a leather folder on his lap. He looked like a doctor. Somehow, she already had the feeling he wasn’t just a visitor.
She felt a tight knot in her stomach.
She asked, voice shaky, “What’s going on?”
Ben looked toward his mother. “Mom?”
She got up, smoothing her skirt as she spoke. “You’ve both suffered enough. We want the same thing—a child. A future.”
Zara felt her heart pick up pace.
“So,” she said, “we decided to act. We called in a specialist, Dr. Karo, and ran some tests.”
“What?” Zara whispered, shock hitting her. “You did what?”
He adjusted in his chair and opened his file. “I checked the test results and did a few exams—nothing invasive.”
“Samples were taken during regular check-ups,” his mother said quickly. “Nothing that could hurt.”
Ben’s mouth dropped open. “You tested me?” He stood up quickly. “You had no right.”
“I had no choice,” she said sharply. “Before this family falls to pieces.”
She blinked, feeling the heaviness of the moment. Everything around her was still, and her fingers clenched the chair’s arm.
Ben’s father spoke quietly but firmly. “That’s enough. Let’s all take a moment and let the doctor finish.”
Clearing his throat, the doctor looked up. “You were both tested. The results are ready.”
Ben’s jaw tightened, while Zara didn’t move a muscle.
She said softly, “I don’t want to hear it.”
Ben muttered, “Me neither.”
Still, the doctor continued.
“All I’m going to say is this—” He looked from one to the other. “One of you isn’t telling the truth.”
The room fell completely silent.
Ben glanced at Zara, and their eyes met.
A dog barked somewhere outside. Life went on beyond those walls. But inside that room, something had broken.
Maybe for good, maybe just for a little while.
No one knew for sure.
