…Continued from previous week
…Abigail’s Perspective
People used to say Austin was a good guy. A kind neighbour. A responsible young man. My parents trusted him, and that trust opened the door to my heart.
I was raised in a strict home. No male friends. Yet Austin was allowed. He visited freely, spoke respectfully and helped everyone. To the world, he was admirable. To me, he was everything.
We dated in secret for two years. Quiet love. Careful love. Or so I thought.
When I gained admission to study Economics in Delta State, I was happy and afraid at the same time. Austin took me out to celebrate. That afternoon changed my life forever. I was scared. I said no. But I believed his words, his promises, his reassurance. I believed love meant safety.
When I discovered I was pregnant, my whole world shook. I went to Austin first because I trusted him. Because I believed he would stand by me. Instead, he denied me.
He told me to find the father of my child.
Those words shattered me.
I went home and told my parents. They were angry, very angry. My father’s disappointment cut deep. My mother cried for days. But even in their anger, they did not abandon me. They stood by me. They held me up when I was breaking.
When we confronted Austin and he denied me again, I begged him to tell the truth. I begged with tears. He looked at me like I meant nothing.
Read also: Words from a wounded heart
Something broke inside me that day.
The words I spoke were not planned. They came from deep pain, betrayal and humiliation. I spoke because I was wounded not because I wanted revenge.
After that incident, my life paused.
I had to take a one-year gap from school to have my child. It was not easy. The shame was loud but my mother was louder with her love. She stood by me completely. She helped me care for my son so I could return to school later and complete my education.
After my son was born, Austin’s brother and his wife tried to show kindness. They came with gifts, trying to ease the situation. My father always declined politely. He was not rude but he was firm. That chapter was closed.
Not long after, my parents moved out of the rented apartment into their own house. That was the end of that neighborhood. I never saw Austin’s brother or his wife again.
Life went on.
I focused on my child and my studies. I graduated. I healed slowly. I gave up completely on men. My first and only experience with love had nearly destroyed me. I promised myself I would never walk that path again.
Then I attended an Economic and Business Summit. That was where I met my husband. At first, I wasn’t interested. Not even a little. I had built walls too high. I had decided love was not for me. But he was persistent—gentle, respectful, patient. He did not rush me. He did not pressure me. He earned my trust slowly. And when I finally chose him, I never regretted it.
He gave me a new understanding of love. A new lease on life. He loved my son openly and fully, as his own. With him, I smiled again. I felt safe again. I lived again. I had more children. I blossomed. I moved on, not out of spite but because I had to live.
Recently, I received a Facebook friend request. From Austin. I laughed.
That had to be the joke of the century.
After all these years. After silence. After denial. After pain.
I did not accept the request.
Some doors, once closed should remain closed. I forgave him long ago but forgiveness does not erase consequences.
I have also realised that time has a way of telling the truth without saying a word.
