Where the Ocean Found us...

CHAPTER ONE Twenty Years Amaka stood in front of the mirror, fastening a small gold necklace around her neck. Her suitcase was already packed. She had been preparing for the trip for days, although she had deliberately tried not to make too much of it. It was only a vacation. A few days away. A chance to breathe. She picked up her perfume and sprayed a little on her wrists before reaching for her phone. There were several unread messages, but she ignored them and opened the WhatsApp group she shared with her children. The group was simply called My Babies. It had been created years ago, when Chidi and Nnenna were still teenagers. Now they were grown. Chidi was twenty-four. Nnenna was twenty-two. Amaka sometimes looked at them and wondered where all those years had gone. She typed: Amaka: I am off for my little holiday. Please take care of yourselves while I am away. I will call when I arrive. She smiled before sending it. Almost immediately, Chidi replied. Chidi: Mom, you deserve this. Have fun. Call us when you arrive. Then Nnenna replied. Nnenna: Mummy, please enjoy yourself. You really deserve the break. Call us when you get there ❤️. Amaka smiled. Amaka: Thank you, my babies. I love you both. She put her phone down. The room suddenly felt quiet again. She looked around her bedroom. Everything was in its place. The cream curtains. The neatly arranged dressing table. The expensive bed they had bought years ago. The photographs. The memories. Twenty years. The thought came without warning. Amaka sat down on the edge of the bed. Twenty years. She and Femi had been together for more than two decades. Their story had not begun with money or comfort. They had children before they got married. Chidi had come first, followed by Nnenna, and somewhere in the middle of raising two young children and trying to build a future together, marriage had eventually become the natural next step. They had grown up together. At least, that was how it had always felt to her. When they started, life was simple. They were not poor, but they were certainly not living the kind of life they lived now. They had dreams bigger than their bank accounts. Femi was ambitious. He had entered the banking world determined to make something of himself, and slowly, steadily, he climbed. One promotion became another. One opportunity led to another. His responsibilities grew. So did his income. Eventually, the man who once counted every major expense was travelling for work, wearing tailored suits and sitting in rooms where decisions involving millions were being made. He had done well for himself. Very well. And Amaka had been there through it. She remembered the early days. The small celebrations. The first major promotion. The excitement when they could finally afford things they had once considered luxuries. The first time they moved into a bigger home. The first expensive car. The holidays. The house in Lekki. They had built a beautiful life. At least, from the outside, it was beautiful. And perhaps that was why the ending was so difficult to accept. There was another woman. Amaka already knew. There was no mystery left. No detective work. No question of whether Femi had fallen in love with someone else. He had. And eventually, he had left. Just like that. After twenty years. Amaka picked up one of the photographs on her dresser. It was an old family photograph. Chidi was still young. Nnenna was sitting beside him, smiling widely. Femi was behind them. Amaka stood beside him. They looked happy. She stared at the photograph for a long time. She was not thinking about the other woman. Not really. She was thinking about everything that had come before her. The years. The children. The home. The life they had built. How could twenty years become something you simply walked away from? That was the part she could not understand. She put the photograph down. Her phone rang. She looked at the screen. Kemi. Her best friend. And, conveniently for Amaka, her therapist. She answered. “Hello.” “Are you ready?” “Yes.” “Everything packed?” “Everything.” “Passport?” “Yes, Kemi.” “Good.” Amaka smiled. Kemi was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “How are you really?” Amaka sighed. “I am fine.” “No.” “What?” “You are functioning. That is not the same thing as being fine.” Amaka laughed softly. “You really cannot switch off the therapist part of your brain, can you?” “Not when you are my best friend.” Amaka leaned back against the headboard. “I just keep thinking about it.” “About Femi?” “About everything.” She paused. “Twenty years, Kemi.” “I know.” “I keep remembering how we started.” “You built a life together.” “Yes.” Her voice became softer. “And now it is just over.” Kemi did not rush to answer. That was one of the things Amaka appreciated about her. She never tried to fill silence simply because silence made people uncomfortable. Finally, Kemi said, “You need to get away.” “I am getting away.” “No. I mean really get away.” Amaka smiled. “I am going to Accra.” “Exactly.” “I have never been.” “Even better.” Amaka looked at her suitcase. “I just want to clear my head.” “Then let yourself.” “I am not trying to forget anything.” “You do not have to.” “I know.” “You do not need to decide what happens next with your life.” Amaka was quiet. “You just need to give yourself permission to breathe.” She closed her eyes. Those words stayed with her. Permission to breathe. Maybe that was what she needed. Not answers. Not another conversation with Femi. Not another explanation. Just space. A few days where she could wake up without thinking about what her marriage had become. A few days where she could walk into a room and simply be Amaka. Not someone's wife. Not someone's mother. Just herself. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For what?” “For telling me to go.” Kemi laughed. “I have been telling you for weeks.” “I know.” “And please, when you get there, enjoy yourself.” “I will.” “Go to the beach.” “I will.” “Eat good food.” “I will.” “Buy something unnecessary.” Amaka laughed. “Definitely.” “And please do not spend the entire trip sitting in your hotel room thinking about your husband.” Amaka smiled. “I will try.” “No. Don't try. Do it.” They both laughed. After the call ended, Amaka sat quietly for another minute. Then she stood. She picked up her handbag. Her eyes moved around the bedroom one last time. There was sadness there. But not the kind that made her want to stay. She was ready to leave. Her phone buzzed. She checked the family group. Another message from Chidi. Chidi: Seriously, Mom. Go and enjoy yourself. We will be fine. Then Nnenna added: Nnenna: And don't forget to send pictures! 😂❤️ Amaka smiled. Amaka: I promise. She locked her phone. Then she picked up her suitcase and walked out of the room. Outside, the Lagos afternoon was warm and busy. The driver was already waiting. Amaka placed her suitcase in the boot and got into the car. As they pulled away from the house, she looked out through the window. For twenty years, she had built a life. Now, for the first time, she was leaving that life behind for a few days without knowing exactly what came next. She was not running away. She was simply going somewhere new. And perhaps, somewhere along the way, she would remember the woman she had been before life became so complicated. Amaka leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Accra was waiting.