A month ago, Lagos -Nigeria.

Cherophobia.

"If you learn to live in the dark, your pupils get adjusted to being that way; if exposed to light, the eyes hurt and can't stand the engulfing nature of purity anymore. Happiness to me is like daylight to those eyes."

 -JIA.

Leticia.

"*Yaba, yaba, yaba," called the bus conductors at the entrance of the market. "Sister, you de go? (Sister, are you going?)" One with a strong smell of tobacco beckoned on her.

"No, thank you," she replied, walking with brisk steps, not wanting to inhale the nicotine oozing from the man any further.

"Taxi," she called, and the cabman stopped.

"Where you de go? (Where are you heading to?)" He asked.

"Campbell estate, *Lekki," she replied.

"Na Drop? (Is it Direct?)" She nodded in response and slid into the back seat of the car.

The soft pitter-patter of water drops on the car window, and the swoosh-swish sound of the wiper made her to divert her attention to the outside world.

Light showers poured down on the road; adults, children, and teens alike hawking different things to be able to make a living: not caring about the drizzle dropping on them. Staring out of the car window, she wondered what it would feel like to be in their shoes.

No, it was not the fear of having no food to eat for she knew the taste of hunger already as she had experience working minor jobs in her university just so that she could have something for her upkeep. Rather, it was the feeling of making a living for oneself, the feeling of being accepted that she clamoured for. Letica always wanted to be accepted, to be identified with, but some things will forever remain as 'wants'. 

She smiled at the lively and bustling streets of Lagos, 'the city that never sleeps', wishing she could be part of the hustle.

A major part of her was happy, but there was the cherophobic feeling also. Her happiness stemmed from the fact that her husband was making efforts for their non-existent relationship.

'Husband,' she thought with a sigh. She had gotten married to Maverick Wagner when she was just nineteen, with a five-year age gap between them.

His mother, Mobolaji Wagner was more of a mother figure to her than her biological mother, and she was forever thankful to the woman. When she turned eighteen, her mother called her back home from school only to inform her that she had found a suitable husband for her. The man in question was a forty-something-year-old man with two wives already, and she was going to become his third. She, as usual, consented and left as she knew better than to argue with her mother.

She recalled how she cried to her only friend, Michelle, explaining what happened. Michelle's mother, Mobolaji, happened to overhear their conversation and proffered a solution.

Since the Wagners were a family known for their companies and affluence in the country, Mobolaji confronted her mother, asking her to marry Leticia to Maverick instead. Of course, her mother accepted the offer wholeheartedly, after all, who wouldn't want to be an in-law to a well-known family? Though she put the condition that they got married right away, and that was how she got hitched to him.

There was no wedding ceremony or celebration of the sort, the marriage was a simple signing of a two-paged certificate that was sent to her as he was out of the country by then. Luckily for her, she was allowed to continue her education. She never saw Maverick in person after their marriage, until a year later when he came back to Nigeria.

Maverick on the other hand was a nice man. It still puzzled her why someone like him accepted their marriage without questions. He was just twenty-four then, getting married to a useless teenager, or 'witch' like her. She had nothing to offer him: not beauty, not money, not class or sophistication, absolutely nothing. Oh yeah, there was something; embarrassment. That was all she was to him.

Leticia knew very well that she was not his type, in fact. Maverick was half-caste; his father was a British man and his mother, a Nigerian. He was tall and lanky with a very beautiful face to compliment it. His skin was very fair, fairer than your average African, and he had thick, dark, curly hair. The colour of his eyes was still unknown to her, all she knew was that it was a mixture of blue, green, and light brown. His face was well sculptured, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, thin lips, and a rectangular shaped face. The man had crossed the border of 'handsome', he was beautiful!

But he accepted an ugly duckling like her. 

At first however, he was a very emotionless and aloof man, only caring about how to restore his father's company when it was nearly brought to ruins after his father's death. He rarely spoke to her except for the occasional 'Good mornings' or 'I'm hungry' and maybe answering her questions or little important discussions. Other times it was work, work, work, and then taking her whenever he was in the mood.

Meanwhile, after three years of living with him, she had fallen completely in love with him. Hers was a case of love at first sight because she had felt that butterfly sensation at the pit of her stomach from the first time she saw him. Sometimes she asked herself if what she felt for him was true love or if it was the idea of him being her husband.

Once, she had blurted out her feelings for him and his response was a slight nod, then his back turned as he strode out of the room. Not that she blamed him though, how could she? The man had never cheated on her-at least to her face, neither had her ever hit her nor had he brought up the discussion of a divorce. That was enough for her to be thankful to him for.

He recently started warming up to her, and she was scared of the new change, scared of getting too happy because she was well aware of the consequences. They call it 'cherophobia' and she was an acquaintance to it.

Leticia was snapped out of her reverie when she heard the sound of blaring horns and the car came to a stop. "Oga wetin happen? (Sir what's the matter?)" She questioned.

"Na hold up oh, one container fall for bridge (It's a gridlock, a container fell off the bridge)," he explained.

"Oh..." she muttered, followed by a sigh. She was going to spend a long time on this bridge. Sighing, Leticia stretched her legs, turning to lean her head on the headrest.

Taking her phone from her bag, she contemplated calling her husband or sending a message. After some seconds of debating, she typed a message, asking him if he was fine and if he had eaten.

She got no reply.

With a sad shrug, she dropped the phone back into her bag and continued to stare out the window. Maybe she should try to overcome her fears and allow happiness to take over her.

If only she knew what was coming next, she would have never allowed herself to succumb to that dreaded emotion.

And... that's a wrap for the first chapter of 'Torn within'. The words in italics are the Nigerian 'pidgin/broken' English, read the words in the brackets following to understand the meaning.

The starred words 'Yaba', and 'Lekki' are places in Lagos- Nigeria, as the book is majorly based there. Although some events will take place in another country.

Please do not forget to vote, leave your comments, share, and follow. Thank you for giving this book a chance.

Yours, Chubiley😉