Thereall pm

Eating noodles is already a crime but eating noodles like this deserves jail time

Learn to smile, people are already there to make you cry.

I WAS LOOKING THROUGH OLD FAMILY PHOTO ALBUMS WITH MY GRANDMA, AND SUDDENLY I SAW MY BOYFRIEND’S FACE.

I thought if a man was going to ruin my reality, I would find the proof on his phone.

I expected hidden messages, a late-night call, or a strange receipt.

But the proof wasn’t digital.

It was sitting inside a battered cardboard box tied with string.

My eighty-two-year-old grandmother had come to visit our flat in Nairobi for the weekend.

After supper, she pulled out her old photo albums.

We were all gathered around the coffee table, laughing at the serious faces and careful handwriting.

Then I turned a page and saw a black-and-white picture tucked under a sheet of cloudy plastic.

I leaned closer, waiting for my eyes to correct themselves.

They didn't.

The picture of the teenage boy had my boyfriend’s exact deep-set eyes, his narrow face, and that specific crooked smile. The scar under his eye.

Underneath the picture, written in faded blue ink, was a terrifying promise.

Right at that exact second, my phone buzzed.

My boyfriend texted that he had finally beaten traffic and was parking outside.

He walked through the front door smiling, carrying roasted maize, completely oblivious.

I didn't say hello.

I grabbed his wrist, dragged him straight to the coffee table, and shoved the ancient album into his hands.

I demanded to know why his face was in my grandmother's photo album.

He looked at the photo.

And… smirked.

"So… I guess we did find you after all."