Chapter 29

The morning sun barely warmed Zara as she sat by her window, staring out blankly at the street below.

She hadn’t slept much the night before — every time she closed her eyes, flashes of her conversation with Regan haunted her.

The words repeated themselves in her mind, over and over:

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think it meant anything serious.”

Her heart ached with humiliation.

No matter how much she tried to act tough, the truth was she felt discarded, like a fool.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

She glanced at it — a message from Kemi.

Kemi: You awake? Should I come over?

Zara thought for a moment, then replied:

Zara: Give me like two hours. I’ll come to yours instead. I need a change of environment.

Kemi replied with a string of heart emojis. Zara forced a smile.

At least she still had friends who genuinely cared.

Dragging herself up, she got dressed in jeans and a loose T-shirt, tied her braids into a messy bun, and slipped out quietly.

Her parents were downstairs — her father reading the newspaper and her mother cleaning the living room — but she didn’t feel like explaining anything.

By the time she reached Kemi’s place, the air was heavy with the smell of pancakes and fresh coffee.

Trust Kemi to always make food when emotions ran high.

“You look like crap,” Kemi announced the moment Zara walked in.

“Wow, thanks,” Zara muttered, tossing her bag on the couch.

“You’re welcome. Now sit down, eat pancakes, and tell me everything.”

Kemi pushed a plate toward her, then plopped down beside her, legs folded under her.

Zara poked at the food, appetite nonexistent.

“Honestly, Kemi, I don’t even know how to explain it,” she said after a long sigh. “I feel like I was used.”

Kemi frowned. “You weren’t. Men are just cowards when they start catching feelings. He’s scared. Simple.”

Zara snorted. “Scared of what? I didn’t ask him to marry me. I didn’t even want this stupid arrangement in the first place!”

Kemi sipped her coffee thoughtfully.

“Maybe… he cares more than he’s letting on. Maybe he’s scared because he knows he hurt you, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.”

Zara shook her head firmly.

“No. If he cared, he wouldn’t have downplayed what happened between us. He made it seem like I was just… a mistake.”

Her voice cracked slightly at the last word, and she quickly looked away.

Kemi reached out and squeezed her hand.

“Listen to me,” Kemi said softly. “You are not a mistake. You’re Zara freaking Tunde. Future top model, future icon, future boss lady.

If he can’t see that, that’s his loss.”

Zara smiled tightly.

“I know. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

They sat in silence for a while, Kemi rubbing comforting circles on her back.

Finally, Zara straightened up.

“You know what? I need to focus on my dreams. Modeling. Traveling. Living my life.

If this marriage thing shatters tomorrow, I swear, I’ll throw a party.”

Kemi laughed. “Abeg invite me o.”

They giggled for a while, but underneath the laughter, a sadness lingered in Zara’s heart.

She could pretend all she wanted — pretend she didn’t care — but deep down, she knew Regan had carved a place in her heart without her permission.

And now, she didn’t know how to erase him.

Meanwhile, across the city, Regan sat in his office at Kareem Group, staring blankly at his laptop.

He hadn’t been able to work all day.

The guilt gnawed at him, relentless.

He knew he had hurt Zara.

He had seen it in her eyes — that brief flash of betrayal before she masked it with anger.

He clenched his fists.

Maybe he should have told her the truth about Imani. Maybe it would have been better than lying and pushing her away.

But how could he?

How could he look into Zara’s eyes and tell her that his ex was pregnant — and that he might be the father?

How could he destroy whatever fragile thing they had just begun building?

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

He couldn’t lose Zara.

Not now.

Not when he had finally realized how much she meant to him.

But at the same time…

How could he keep this secret from her for long?

The walls were closing in, and soon, there would be no way out.

That night, Zara lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.

Her phone buzzed again.

Regan: Can we meet tomorrow? Please.

Her heart skipped.

She stared at the screen for a long moment, debating whether to respond.

Finally, with trembling fingers, she typed back:

Zara: Where and when?

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she knew one thing —

She was tired of running.

It was time for answers.

Real answers.

Even if they broke her.

His phone buzzed sharply on his desk, dragging him from his thoughts.

It was Imani.

With a heavy sigh, he picked it up.

“Hello,” he said flatly.

“Hey stranger,” Imani’s voice came through, sweet but mocking. “You suddenly forgot I exist, abi?”

Regan pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have the strength for her games.

“What do you want, Imani?” he said tiredly.

“I want to see you. Tomorrow,” she said. “We have unfinished business.”

“I already arranged to meet Zara tomorrow,” he said. “I won’t be chanced.”

There was a sharp, bitter laugh on the other end.

“So you’d rather meet with your arranged wife-to-be than the woman carrying your first child?”

Her voice turned venomous. “You know, Regan, you’ve always been a coward when it comes to real responsibilities.”

Regan’s jaw tightened.

“Imani, don’t start.”

“Start what? Telling you the truth?” she snapped. “You think you can just sweep this under the rug? I’m carrying your blood, Regan. Whether you like it or not.”

“I didn’t say it’s not my responsibility,” Regan said through gritted teeth. “But that doesn’t mean I’m abandoning my life. I have obligations too.”

“Obligations?” Imani laughed bitterly. “You call playing house with that little princess of yours an obligation?

The same girl you’ll eventually leave once you realize you can’t keep pretending you’re in love?”

Regan swallowed hard, fighting to stay calm.

“I’m not doing this with you,” he said. “I have a lot on my mind already.”

“Good. Then add this to the list,” Imani hissed.

“Meet me tomorrow at Eko Hotel, 1 p.m., Room 305. And you better show up. Unless you want the whole city to know your dirty secrets before your fancy wedding even happens.”

Regan stiffened.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Call it whatever you want,” she said coldly. “But if you care about your little reputation — and that of your perfect family — you’ll be there.”

There was a long pause.

“Why Eko Hotel?” Regan asked quietly, a bad feeling settling in his gut.

“Because I want you to come to me,” she said.

“I want you to see — really see — what you’re about to lose.”

Before he could respond, Imani’s voice dropped to a chilling whisper:

“Come find out why your real wife wants to see you.”

And with that, the line went dead.

Regan dropped the phone onto his desk and buried his face in his hands.

The walls were closing in fast.

Tomorrow was going to be hell.