When the Knife Smiled First

Last year, I stumbled into a relationship that felt like breathing after drowning. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even something I thought I was ready for. But somehow, I fell, and when I did, it was deep, warm, and everything sweet. He made life easier. From the way he remembered the little things to how he’d talk about our future, I genuinely thought I had found someone that felt like mine. But you see, peace sometimes wears a disguise. I found out, not by rumors or whispers, but by sheer chance, that he was dating someone else. I confronted him the first time, and he denied it. Said it was a mix-up. I went back a second time when things didn’t add up, and again, he denied it. I didn’t have proof, and I didn’t want to push. Until the day the girl entered my DM. She didn’t attack. She didn’t accuse. She started off calm, even friendly. Then, with calculated softness, she stylishly asked me a simple question:“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” I told her.And just like that, the whole picture cracked open. She went, “Kimi kyo… kimi kyo ta… I'm not trying to say anything, you know… but… it’s just… you know…”The kind of sentence that says nothing and everything at the same time. So I confronted him again, and this time, he didn’t argue. He just said I shouldn’t stress myself over it. That it was nothing. That he had it under control. And somehow, I convinced myself to believe him. But I didn’t want trouble with her, so I did the unexpected. I started chatting with her. She was surprisingly warm. Started calling me "bestie." We exchanged stories. Laughed. Talked about life. And in a strange way, it made me feel like everything was okay. My friends warned me. Told me to stay away. That friendships like that don’t end well. But I told them I just wanted to test something. So I started feeding her stories. Not lies, just pieces of my life. A neighbor I was always staying with. A coursemate who liked me and we had something together. A random guy who asked for my number. I wanted to see if she’d run back to my man with it. She didn’t. Not last year. That was why I stayed comfortable. Too comfortable. Then January came, and he finally broke up with her. I didn’t even celebrate it. In fact, I told him I wasn’t in support of how it happened. I didn’t know how deep their story ran. I didn’t want to be the reason someone else broke. After that, I started distancing myself from her. Less chats. Fewer laughs. I told myself I was doing the right thing. But life has a way of waiting. This year, things between me and him became shaky. We had small fights, silences, unresolved issues. After exams, we didn’t talk for a while. When I returned to school, we tried to sort things out. That was when he started asking strange questions. “Who’s David?”“Who’s Felix?”“Who’s this guy?” I was shocked. Because the only person I had ever told those names to was her. Cynthia. My “bestie.” The one I thought was silent. At first, I thought maybe he checked my phone or saw an old chat. Until he showed me something else. Snapchat messages. Between him and her. She had spilled everything. Not just what I said, but things I never said. She told him I was flirting with my coursemate. That I loved the attention of other guys. That I used to laugh behind his back. She told him I once said, “Let him think I’m loyal, it’s his turn to be played.” I was numb. He said it was okay. That he believed me. We were even intimate again. I thought it meant we were back on track. But the truth is, when trust cracks, it never heals quietly. A day before my birthday, he looked at me and said, “Do you think I’m a fool?” That was when I knew — she had said more. I didn’t know what exactly, but whatever it was had finally killed the little trust he had left in me. On my birthday, he didn’t text. He didn’t call. Nothing. So I went to his place at night, hoping to make sense of it all. Instead, we broke up. That was how everything ended. Not because I cheated.Not because I lied.But because someone I trusted with my truth, twisted it into betrayal and handed it to the one person I loved. She didn’t poison the well overnight. She sat at the edge of it, smiling. Waiting. Until I leaned in to drink again… and drowned. I learned something that day.That not all knives come with blades.Some come with smiles.And sometimes, it’s the softest hands that plant the sharpest betrayals. I don’t regret loving.I don’t regret being honest.But I’ll never ignore a red flag just because it came dressed like a friend. So if you ever find yourself wondering how it feels to be stabbed with your own words, take it from me… It hurts more when the knife smiled first.

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