CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE: THE THINGS THAT HURT
The next morning, I woke up with a headache.
It was not severe, but it was enough to make me want to stay in bed for another hour.
Unfortunately, the hostel had already come alive.
Girls were moving around, pulling on uniforms, searching for socks and arguing over who had used whose bucket.
Gift was standing beside her bed, struggling with the sleeve of her shirt.
"You're awake."
"Unfortunately."
She laughed.
"You look tired."
"I am."
She studied my face.
"Did you sleep at all?"
"Not properly."
"Because of Samuel?"
I sighed.
"Everything is because of Samuel these days."
Gift smiled sympathetically.
"Maybe you two just need to get through this period."
"I hope so."
I stood up and began dressing.
The assessment was getting closer.
Everyone was stressed.
Perhaps that was all this was.
Perhaps when the pressure disappeared, things would return to normal.
I held on to that thought.
I needed something to believe in.
When I reached the classroom, Samuel was already seated.
He looked at me.
"Morning."
"Morning."
He smiled.
"Your hair is rough."
I touched my hair immediately.
"What?"
He laughed.
"I was joking."
I stared at him.
"You're annoying."
"There she is."
I smiled despite myself.
For a few minutes, it felt normal again.
I sat beside him.
He pushed his Mathematics notebook towards me.
"Look at this question."
I leaned closer.
"What about it?"
"I think I've finally understood it."
"Finally?"
"Don't insult me."
I laughed.
He laughed too.
That tiny moment made my heart feel lighter.
Maybe we really could fix things.
Maybe all we needed was patience.
The first lesson went smoothly.
The second did too.
But during the third lesson, our teacher returned our previous assessment papers.
I looked at mine.
I had done well.
Not perfectly, but well enough.
Samuel looked at his.
His expression changed.
"What did you get?" I whispered.
He shook his head.
"Don't ask."
I looked at him.
"Is it bad?"
"Very."
"How bad?"
He showed me.
I stared.
"You didn't do badly."
He looked at me.
"I should have done better."
"You were stressed."
"That is not an excuse."
"Samuel—"
"I should have done better."
I could hear the frustration in his voice.
I lowered mine.
"It is only one assessment."
He looked at me.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
"I don't want to."
The words hurt.
I turned away.
He immediately sighed.
"Sorry."
I said nothing.
During break, Samuel left the classroom with some boys.
I watched him go.
I did not follow.
Daniel and Gift stayed behind.
Daniel was looking through his notes.
Gift was eating.
"You're not eating?" Daniel asked me.
"No."
"You should."
"I know."
He pushed a piece of bread towards me.
"Take."
I looked at him.
"I don't want it."
"You haven't eaten properly since yesterday."
I frowned.
"How do you know?"
"You look tired."
Gift looked at me.
"He's right."
I reluctantly took the bread.
"Thank you."
Daniel smiled.
"No problem."
Samuel returned a few minutes later.
His eyes immediately went to the bread in my hand.
Then to Daniel.
He did not say anything.
He sat down.
I could feel the tension beside me.
After a few seconds, he asked, "Where did you get that?"
"Daniel gave it to me."
Samuel nodded.
"Okay."
His tone was flat.
I looked at him.
"Samuel…"
"I'm fine."
I closed my mouth.
Again.
That word.
Fine.
It was beginning to mean everything except fine.
After break, I tried to focus on class.
But Samuel barely spoke to me.
When I asked him something, he answered briefly.
When I made a joke, he smiled without really listening.
By the end of the lesson, I was tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
I packed my books.
Samuel stood.
"I'll see you later."
I looked at him.
"Where are you going?"
"Prep."
"We have lunch first."
"I know."
"So?"
He looked at me.
"I need to go somewhere."
"Abigail?"
He hesitated.
"Yes."
I nodded.
"Okay."
He walked away.
I stared after him.
I hated that I had started expecting that answer.
At lunch, I sat with Gift.
She watched me for several minutes.
"Say it."
"What?"
"Whatever you're thinking."
I looked down at my food.
"I think I'm becoming tired."
"Of Samuel?"
"Of trying."
Gift was silent.
"I love him," I continued. "But every day, I feel like I'm trying to keep us together by myself."
She looked at me carefully.
"Have you told him that?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to make things worse."
"But keeping quiet is already hurting you."
I looked at her.
She was right.
I knew she was right.
But knowing something and being brave enough to act on it were two different things.
That evening, I waited for Samuel after class.
When he finally appeared, I stood.
"Can we talk?"
He looked tired.
"About what?"
"Us."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Floral…"
"Please."
He sighed.
"Okay."
We moved away from the other students.
I looked at him.
"I don't know what's happening to us."
He looked down.
"I know."
"You know?"
"Yes."
"Then why aren't we doing anything?"
He was quiet.
I continued.
"I feel like every time I try to get close to you, you move away."
"That isn't what I'm doing."
"It feels like it."
He looked frustrated.
"I told you I'm under pressure."
"I know."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to talk to me."
"I don't know how."
"You don't have to know how. Just try."
He looked at me.
"I am trying."
"Then why does it feel like I'm the only one trying?"
He stared at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then he said quietly, "Maybe because you keep trying to fix things that don't need fixing."
I froze.
"What?"
"You keep looking for something wrong."
"Because something feels wrong!"
"Maybe you're making it worse by constantly questioning me."
I felt tears gathering in my eyes.
"I question you because you don't tell me anything."
"I can't tell you everything!"
"I know!"
My voice cracked.
"But I need something. Anything."
He looked away.
"I don't know what to give you."
I swallowed.
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know."
I wiped my eyes quickly.
He noticed.
His expression changed.
"Floral…"
"Don't."
"I didn't mean to make you cry."
"You didn't."
"Yes, I did."
"No."
I looked away.
"I just don't understand you anymore."
He was silent.
Then he stepped closer.
"I still love you."
I closed my eyes.
Those words should have comforted me.
Instead, they hurt.
Because I believed him.
And somehow, that made everything more painful.
That night, I sat on my bed while Gift folded her clothes.
I told her everything.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she sat beside me.
"You're both hurting."
I nodded.
"But neither of you knows how to stop."
"I don't want to lose him."
Gift looked at me.
"You don't have to decide that tonight."
I looked at her.
"What if he decides first?"
She was quiet.
That possibility frightened me.
The following morning, Samuel barely spoke to me.
I did not know whether to approach him.
So I didn't.
For the first time since we became a couple, we spent almost an entire school day beside each other without really talking.
At break, I went with Victoria and Morayo.
They had become much closer to me over the past few weeks.
Morayo handed me a piece of meat from her food.
"Eat."
I laughed weakly.
"Why does everyone keep feeding me?"
"Because you look like you're disappearing."
Victoria smiled.
"You're too quiet."
"I have a lot on my mind."
Morayo nodded.
"Samuel?"
I nodded.
Victoria sighed.
"You know, sometimes two people can love each other and still hurt each other."
I looked at her.
"That doesn't mean they should stop loving each other."
"No," she said. "But love alone doesn't solve everything."
Her words stayed with me.
That afternoon, something unexpected happened.
Samuel came to me.
"I want to apologise."
I looked up.
"For what?"
"For the way I've been treating you."
I remained silent.
"I've been taking my frustration out on you."
"You have."
"I know."
He sat beside me.
"I don't want to become someone who hurts you."
My eyes softened.
"Then don't."
He looked at me.
"I'll try."
I smiled faintly.
"That's all I want."
He took my hand.
For a few seconds, we sat quietly.
Then he said, "Maybe we should spend less time worrying about what everyone else thinks."
"What do you mean?"
"People are always watching us. Talking about us. Asking questions."
I nodded.
"Maybe we should just focus on ourselves."
I smiled.
"That sounds good."
He squeezed my hand.
"I don't want to lose you."
"You won't."
But even as I said it, a tiny voice inside me whispered that promises were easier to make than to keep.
The next few days became calmer.
Not perfect.
But calmer.
Samuel and I talked more.
We studied together.
We laughed again.
For a while, I believed the worst had passed.
I was wrong.
Because on Friday afternoon, after the final lesson, I heard two girls talking behind me.
"I heard Samuel is thinking about leaving her."
I stopped walking.
My heart froze.
The other girl whispered something I could not hear.
Then they both laughed.
I turned around.
"What did you say?"
They looked at me.
Their expressions changed immediately.
"Nothing."
"You said Samuel is thinking about leaving me."
One of them shook her head.
"We were just talking."
"About me?"
"No."
I stared at them.
"Then why did you mention my name?"
They said nothing.
I walked away before I could hear more.
My heart was pounding.
I found Samuel near the classroom.
"Can I ask you something?"
He looked at me.
"Sure."
"Are you thinking about leaving me?"
His expression changed.
"What?"
"Just answer me."
"Who told you that?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Are you?"
He stared at me.
"No."
I searched his face.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Then why are people saying it?"
"I don't know."
I nodded slowly.
"Okay."
He reached for my hand.
I let him.
But the damage had already been done.
For the first time, the fear I had been carrying quietly had been given a voice.
And once a fear had been spoken aloud, it became much harder to silence.
That night, I lay awake again.
Samuel had told me he was not leaving.
I believed him.
At least, I wanted to.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, the question remained.
What if one day he changed his mind?