Don't Be My Ex✔️

•PROLOGUE•

****

He grabbed my hand and twisted it behind my back, his expression a mix of a sardonic smile and a scowl. "What did you just say?" he yelled as he pushed me back onto the bed.

It was terrifying, watching myself fall. Goosebumps covered my skin, and a massive adrenaline rush propelled me to quickly shift to the safer edge of the bed, out of his reach. This wasn't a common occurrence, nor was it about him being abusive. Kofi wasn't a bad person; my terror stemmed from never having seen him so visibly hurt before.

"I... am... so... sorry... Kofi... I... can't marry... you," I stammered. I won't lie; I despised myself the moment those words left my mouth. But what other choice did I have? He was everything to me, yet I yearned for something more.

Kofi stepped away from the bed and stared out the window, his back to me, as if trying to shield his face which was already etched with pain.

"Are you okay?" I finally mustered the courage to ask. He sniffed, turned to glance at me silently, then grabbed his shirt and dashed out of the room.

My heart sank; I had broken his heart.

I loved Kofi, truly, but our relationship felt somewhat juvenile now. His clinging to past memories indicated that he wasn't prepared for the future I envisioned. They say to perfect your future, you must bury your past. Yet, could our childhood bond, beginning at age twelve, truly suffice for marriage? For a commitment as deep as forever?

Being with Kofi was like living a dream; he was brilliant, funny, and handsome—the quintessential high school hero who had won more trophies than anyone. Any woman would have eagerly accepted his proposal. Yet, imagining a lifetime with him proved difficult.

I couldn't see myself staying forever in our small village, married to an undergraduate whose sole ambition was to carry on his family's legacy—out of love. I knew I could aspire to more.

After dressing quickly, I left the room only to meet the chilling smile of Kofi's mother. Her grin was so wide I could see her yellowish teeth bared in a grimace of satisfaction.
She had never liked me, and the feeling was mutual.

Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, her look one of clear disapproval. Given her close relationship with her son, she likely already knew about my refusal to marry him.

I responded with a polite smile and walked briskly out of the house, hoping for my own sake that I would never look back.

****This is not the end; scroll up to access the remaining chapters.

A/N
Thank you to everyone who has chosen to read my book. It contains many lessons that I hope you all take to heart. Please respect my creative rights and avoid copying any part of this work. Writing takes dedication and time, so I encourage you to be original and tap into your own creativity.