Amaka's heart was a battlefield, torn between the love she felt for Jidenna and the growing shadow of doubt that refused to be ignored. She spent days replaying the moment she saw the message, questioning its meaning and whether it was her place to dig deeper. But as each day passed, her anxiety grew. She couldn't let it go. She needed answers, and if Jidenna wouldn't give them willingly, she'd find them herself.

One evening, while Jidenna was out for a late studio session, Amaka sat alone in their living room. The house was silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock. Her gaze fell on Jidenna's laptop, sitting on the coffee table where he'd left it. Her fingers itched with temptation.

Should I? she thought, biting her lip. Is it wrong to check? Or is it worse to stay in the dark?

After minutes of internal debate, she gave in. She opened the laptop and navigated to his email. Her heart raced as she typed in the password—his mother's name and birth year—a detail he had once casually mentioned. To her surprise and dismay, it worked.

The inbox was filled with the usual: work-related emails, notifications, and promotions. But as she scrolled further, her eyes landed on an email thread with a subject line that sent her pulse racing: "Can't wait to see you again."

She clicked on it, her breath hitching. The emails were from Tasha—the same name from the message she'd seen on his phone. The exchange was brief but damning. Tasha had written about a night they had spent together, thanking him for his "company" and mentioning how much she looked forward to the next time. Jidenna's reply was casual, almost dismissive, but it didn't deny anything. He had written, *"It was great catching up. Take care."

Amaka's hands shook as she closed the laptop. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions: anger, betrayal, confusion. She had her first piece of evidence, but it wasn't enough. She needed more, something undeniable, before she confronted him.

Over the next week, Amaka's investigation became almost obsessive. She began watching Jidenna more closely, paying attention to his phone calls, his texts, his behavior. She'd wait until he was in the shower or asleep to go through his phone, his emails, his social media. Every notification, every name she didn't recognize, became a potential clue.

One evening, while scrolling through his Instagram DMs, she found another message that caught her attention. It was from a different woman, someone named Anita, who had sent a string of heart emojis and a message saying, "Last night was magical. When can we do it again?"

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Amaka's stomach churned. She took a screenshot of the message and sent it to her own phone for safekeeping. Her doubts were no longer just doubts; they were rapidly becoming certainties.

Despite her growing suspicions, Amaka maintained a facade of normalcy around Jidenna. She didn't want him to know what she was doing, not until she had all the evidence she needed. But the effort was exhausting. Her smiles felt forced, her laughter hollow. Even their moments of intimacy—which had once brought her so much joy—now felt tainted by the secrets she carried.

One night, as they lay in bed, Jidenna turned to her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Amaka, are you okay?" he asked. "You've been so quiet lately. Is something bothering you?"

Amaka forced a smile, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Jidenna. Just a lot on my mind with the wedding planning and all."

He nodded, pulling her close. "I know it's stressful, but we'll get through it together. You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?"

The irony of his words wasn't lost on her. She buried her face in his chest, hiding the tears that threatened to spill. "I know," she whispered. "I know."

The turning point came when Amaka decided to follow Jidenna one night. He had told her he was meeting with his manager to discuss a new project, but her gut told her otherwise. She waited until he left, then grabbed her car keys and followed him, keeping a safe distance.

Jidenna drove to a high-end hotel in the city center. Amaka parked a few blocks away and watched as he entered the building. Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited, debating whether to go inside. After a few minutes, her curiosity got the better of her. She slipped into the hotel lobby, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of him.

She spotted him near the elevators, talking to a woman who was unmistakably Tasha. They were standing close, their body language far too intimate for her liking. Amaka's chest tightened as she watched them laugh, their heads bent together as if sharing a private joke.

She stayed hidden, her fists clenched at her sides, as they got into the elevator together. Her mind raced with questions and accusations. She wanted to storm after them, to confront Jidenna right then and there, but she held back. She needed to be smart about this.

When Jidenna returned home later that night, Amaka was waiting for him, her expression calm but her eyes cold.

"Hey, babe," he said, kissing her cheek. "You're up late."

"Couldn't sleep," she replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "How was your meeting?"

"It was good," he said, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath her composed exterior. "We made a lot of progress on the new project."

Amaka nodded, her smile brittle. "That's good to hear."

As he headed to the bedroom, she stayed behind, her mind racing. She had seen enough to confirm her suspicions, but the confrontation would have to wait. For now, she needed to gather her thoughts, to decide how to approach the man she loved and the lies he had wrapped them both in.

And as she sat alone in the living room, staring into the darkness, one thing became clear: their relationship would never be the same again.