I didn’t know Friday evening would be the beginning of the end. It was just a phone call — short, sad, and unfinished — but it changed everything.
Ndichu called me, and in a sad tone suggested that we meet the next day over dinner. Every effort I made to ask why he sounded down wasn’t answered.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” was the only thing he said.
I tried to imagine what he was going through, I tried all kinds of guesswork, but nothing made sense, so I decided to wait.
Come Saturday evening.
I dressed for the part. A lovely new black dinner dress, a dress I had saved for such a special occasion. Meeting Ndichu was always a special moment, but this specific dinner dress was meant for a special dinner at some new restaurant.
I arrived slightly earlier at the rooftop restaurant. I chose a lovely corner seat, ordered a glass of wine, and waited for him. I admired the stars, they shone so bright, and the moon was out. A perfect evening for couples. The soft love music created a romantic mood. Everything was perfect that evening.
And then he arrived — Ndichu — the man I loved wholeheartedly.
From his appearance, I could tell something was wrong. His shoulders had dropped. No hug, no kiss, nothing. He sat down, hands on his chin, and stared into space.
The waiter brought him back to life.
“Kindly get me the cocktail menu,” he said softly.
I hadn’t uttered a word. The menu came, he ordered his drink, and started sipping without saying what was happening.
“What’s wrong? Why are you quiet?” I asked softly.
“It’s about us.” He paused and took a sip. “I haven’t fully healed from the heartbreak. I’m still in pain. I’ve been hiding it for long, and I’ve now decided to face the reality head-on.”
These words pierced me. I knew something was wrong, but I never guessed it was about us.
“What do you mean? Are you suggesting a breakup?” I asked, a lump choking me.
“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t do this over the phone. That would be disrespectful.”
I felt a certain unexplainable weight on my chest. My world was collapsing right in front of someone I dearly loved. I felt suffocated.
“But we’ve been happy for a year plus. You’ve been happy. Is there anything wrong I ever did that you can’t mention?”
“Nothing… it’s nothing you did. You’re an incredible woman. And maybe that’s what makes this harder. It took a lot for me to reach this point, and I’ve been fighting this inside me for weeks. But I feel like I’m insulting you by trying to heal on you. You don’t deserve to carry pain that isn’t yours.”
He paused, swallowed hard, and looked away.
“I want the best for you. For me too. I just… I can’t anymore.”
I wiped a tear. I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask the heavens what wrong I ever did to be punished like this.
“But we were happy. The best for me was you. How do I let go?” I asked in tears.
“You will. I know you’re strong. I’m really sorry I disappointed you, but this is necessary for us both.”
I didn’t argue.
He wasn’t rejecting me for another woman.
He wasn’t rejecting me for a new opportunity.
He wasn’t even rejecting me for something I did wrong.
He was rejecting me for a wound he refused to heal.
A heavy silence followed. The air was heavy. Ndichu avoided my gaze. I wanted to remind him that we were happy, that we vowed to stick together, but I couldn’t find my voice or the right words.
After what seemed like an eternity, he requested to leave.
“I can drop you off, or I can order a taxi for you,” he suggested.
I didn’t have the strength to stand and leave. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want anyone beside me. I just wanted to breathe.
“I’ll get a taxi. You may leave,” was all I managed to say.
He paid the bill and left.
Ndichu left me broken with many questions. He wasn’t just calm, he was kind. I’ve met kind men before, but Ndichu surpasses them all. Even on that last date, when everything between us was quietly breaking, he was still gentle in his tone, patient with his words, and considerate in every small gesture. There was no anger, no bitterness, just a good man trying to end something without causing more pain.
And there I was, uncertain whether I’d get another man as good as him. There I was, losing him to a past that refused to heal. I did my best to make him happy, but my best wasn’t enough to keep him. To keep us.
I stared at the people around me. All seemed happy. The air was filled with love.
Suddenly, a man went on his knee and proposed to his woman. Everyone was happy and clapping. I didn’t celebrate because I was sad. I was alone wishing that was me. That was what I always wanted, but here I was, waking up smiling, and ending the evening with tears.
I noticed that even in my heartbreak, the streets were still buzzing, people were still smiling, the moon was still shining, and the world hadn’t paused for me to heal.
Life had to go on.
I texted my friend, “He left,” and she responded after a few minutes, “It will be well.”
I stumbled on the song “Love Is All Around” by Wet Wet Wet, and I couldn’t help remembering how I reminded him countless times that it was one of my favorites. The lyrics were just perfect for us.