My name is Zara.
And I had the kind of love people write songs about.
Emeka and I — three years.
Long distance. Lagos to London.
Every night call. Every "goodnight baby." Every "I miss you so much it hurts."
I believed all of it.
Then last Tuesday...
His mum called me.
Not to check on me.
Not to say hello.
She called me to apologize.
"Zara my daughter... I thought you knew."
I thought I knew what?
She went silent.
Then she said —
"Ask Emeka about the girl in the picture he posted on close friend