The Hands I Trusted [EPISODE 8]

A few days later, Nkechi appeared at my apartment unannounced.

She didn't ask if I wanted to go out.

She simply threw one of my dresses onto the bed and said, "Get ready. We're going to brunch, and if you cry, you're buying the waffles."

For the first time in months, I laughed.

A real laugh.

The kind that comes from somewhere deep inside you.

Healing didn't happen overnight.

It happened in tiny, almost invisible moments.

I started seeing Mrs. Adebayo every week instead of every other week.

Therapy became less about Tunde and more about Amara.

Why did I ignore red flags?

Why did I confuse inconsistency with excitement?

Why did I believe I had to earn love?

The answers weren't easy.

Sometimes I left therapy feeling lighter.

Sometimes I cried all the way home.

But every session peeled away another layer of pain.

I also started running every Saturday morning at Muri Okunola Park

The first day, I couldn't finish one lap without stopping.

My chest burned.

My asthma reminded me not to push too hard.

But every week I came back.

Soon, running stopped being about fitness.

It became proof that my body could carry me somewhere beautiful without anyone else's permission.