My friend Lizzy had a baby girl. She sent me a message a day after she delivered, “I have a baby girl. She came just last night.”

The only response that came to my head was, “You have a baby girl and so what? Should I come and breastfeed her for you?” But I didn’t say that. I looked at the message for several seconds and told myself, “Girl, you haven’t healed. Work on yourself.”

I didn’t respond to the message. I left it hanging in the air until later in the evening, when she texted again, “I know you’re not happy for me, but that’s fine. I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”

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We were friends for years. I was with her when she met Josh, the man who married her four years later. It took Joshua months to know we were not sisters but just friends. Even then, it was Lizzy who told him.

Lizzy was living in my house not because she didn’t like her house. She was living with me because all we had was each other. When she had troubles with Josh, I was the one both of them ran to. I was fair and firm. Whoever was at fault, I told them and asked them to apologise.

Josh was caring, and I could see he loved Lizzy very much, but Lizzy wasn’t sure about her feelings for him because Josh wasn’t the rich kind of guy she had always dreamt of. I told her, “He has a good heart. One day, when he’s rich, he’ll open his arms to you because naturally, he loves to give.”

Their relationship was a rollercoaster. Today up, tomorrow stuck in the middle. I had my own relationship problems, but I was there fixing theirs until they decided to marry.

At that time, I had a new job, and the job was stressing me. It was far from where I lived, and it was very demanding too. Lizzy chose me as her maid of honour, and aside from that, I was the one doing the heavy lifting for her so she could concentrate on the wedding itself.

I went with her to try on her wedding dress. I’d closed from work and was very tired, but I was with her. She was excited, turning round and round in the mirror. She asked how she looked, and I said beautiful. I even held the train so she could model well in it.

The next day, she said she was going to have a bachelorette party. I knew nothing about it, but she wanted me to be there. I said I might close late from work and would be tired, so I might not be able to come. She begged me to be there, and I was there. Naturally, I wasn’t myself. I was even thinking about how bad I was going to look during the wedding.

Lizzy didn’t ask what was wrong with me or what I was going through. At the bachelorette, she flipped and took her anger out on me, screaming that if I didn’t want to be there, I should leave because I was becoming bad energy. Everyone was there oo. I was like, “What did I do?”

“Why would you be here and be like you don’t want to be here? It’s OK, you can leave. I know you didn’t want to come, and I forced you.” I slowly descended the stairs and left. They tried to stop me. I wasn’t even angry. I thought my mood was projecting onto her, so I left.

When I left, Lizzy made the whole night about me, telling everyone that I was jealous of her wedding and I wished it was rather me getting married. She even took it to her WhatsApp status, saying, “Not all your friends are happy for you. Be careful.” My friends there called to tell me how she made me look like the devil and all. I still didn’t want to get angry. It was her wedding. She deserved to be happy.

I called and even apologised to her that that wasn’t my intention. She screamed, “It’s written all over your face that you’re not happy. If you’re not happy for me, how can you meet your happy days?”

Herh, I was pained. I called my mom and told her about it. She said I should stop being the maid of honour. I responded, “Oh naaa, it hasn’t gotten to that. I’ll do my best for her.”

A day before her wedding, a friend of ours called me and asked why I had decided not to be the maid of honour again. I was like, “Me? Where? When?”

She said Lizzy had told her to be the maid of honour because I had decided not to do it again. I had spoken to Lizzy a few hours prior, and she didn’t mention that to me, so I called her, “You decided to replace me without telling me?” She responded, “I don’t want you to affect my mood negatively. It’s better I allow someone else to do it.”

I thanked her and bowed out of the role. I was at the wedding. I helped with the food and ensured those who served did a good job. After the wedding, I hugged her and her new husband and left. What surprises me most is her husband. When they had issues, I was the one he ran to, but he was a witness to everything that was going on and still said nothing.

I learned later that Lizzy said she dreamt about me sabotaging her wedding because I wished it was me. Even after the wedding, I thought our relationship would turn back to normal, but they gave me a gap I never knew existed. My mom said, “You’ve lost your friend. Let it go. Some women marry and they see their unmarried friends as evil. That’s what’s happening. Let it go.”

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The only heartbreak of my life was not given to me by a man but a woman. My own dear friend. I didn’t know she was pregnant, but she gave birth and was telling me. When I didn’t respond, her husband called me, trying to act like we’d been talking since they got married two years ago.

“We’ve made you an aunt ooo. Sorry we didn’t tell you until now.” I responded, “You didn’t tell me because you thought I’ll chew her in spirit. I know. I’m happy for you. Extend my greetings.”

I didn’t attend the naming ceremony, though they invited me and my mom. My mom also didn’t go. Now, all of a sudden, they are doing everything to return to my life, but what they haven’t done is apologise for what happened years ago.

I don’t even need their apology. I’m fine. I’m happy for them. They’ve done two years without me, and they didn’t die. They should continue the rest without me. We’ll all be fine.

—Serwaa     

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