Title: “I Lied About a Pregnancy and Found an Empty Pocket Where Love Should Be” The worst part was not when he left. The worst part was how fast he left. I am writing this with shame in my chest. I lied about a pregnancy. I know that is not small. I know people judge fast when they hear that. But please hear the whole story. My name is Abeni. I live in a small town where everyone knows your business before you finish living it. I met Kola near the roadside where he sold phone cards and cheap chargers. He smiled easily. He spoke about dreams like they were already real. When money was good, he was good. When money was gone, he became quiet. We dated for almost a year. Every time I asked about marriage, he said, “Soon.” Soon became another word for never. My mother asked questions. My friends warned me. But love can make your ears deaf. In my town, old women tell stories by firelight. They say, “Test a man when life is hard, not when food is plenty.” I did not plan to lie at first. Fear pushed me there. One night, I told him my period did not come. I watched his face freeze. I added more lies because silence scared me. I said I felt sick. I said my body felt heavy. I hated myself even as I spoke. He did not touch me. He did not ask how I felt. He checked his pockets instead. That sound — coins touching each other — still lives in my head. The next days were worse. His calls slowed. His voice changed. He said we should be careful who we tell. He said children are expensive. He said his life was already hard. Then he disappeared. No fight. No goodbye. Just absence. I cried alone in my room. I was not crying because he left. I was crying because I understood everything. The lie showed me the truth too clearly. When I finally found him, I told him the truth. I said there was no pregnancy. He laughed and called me dramatic. He did not say sorry for running. He did not say he missed me. That was when my heart finally broke. I am sorry for lying. I am sorry for using fear to test love. But I am also glad I did not bring a real child into a fake commitment. Now I walk alone. Quieter. Wiser. With an empty pocket where love used to be.