Those words “Don’t worry” sound romantic. Until you realise they’re sometimes the beginning of a storm.
It started like most things do, in whispers. Rent was coming up. Fuel prices had doubled again.
Our son’s school sent one of those “polite” reminders that feel more like a threat wrapped in good grammar.
I remember that evening clearly. The fan was humming, and the air smelled like fried plantain and stew. I looked at him and gently asked, “My Love, what’s the plan for rent?”
He smiled. That kind of smile that hides things.
Then he said it: “Don’t worry”, with confidence, calmly. Then I started noticing the signs.
He wasn’t sleeping.
He stared at his phone like it was reading his future aloud.
His eyes would drift during conversations, as if his body were home and his mind had travelled to places.
One night, at 2 a.m., pregnancy pulled me out of bed for the third time that week. I walked past the window and stopped.
There he was outside, pacing with his phone in his hand while whispering like the walls had ears.
And that’s when I knew: there was a problem.
The rent deadline came, and I asked again.
“Baby, are we ready for rent?”
He avoided my eyes then, almost in a whisper, said,
“I’m sorting it.”
“How?” I asked.
A long pause. Then: “Please, I’ll handle it.”
That’s when my heart started pounding, not with anger, but with fear.
That evening, I did something I never thought I’d do.
I checked his phone — yes, I did — no guilt.
I saw it.
A loan message.
₦3,500,000 borrowed from a close friend.
And a reminder:
“Bro, any update on the repayment?”
My heart broke.
The next morning, I made his favourite breakfast, yams and egg sauce. I set the table like it was Sunday, even though it was Tuesday.
Then I sat down and said,
“I saw the message.”
He froze. Spoon halfway to his mouth. Then, I dropped it.
“I just… didn’t want to stress you,” he said, barely audible.
And that’s what shattered me.
He thought he was shielding me.
But I was already stressed. How can you lose your job and never tell?
That day, I took his hand and said, “Next time, don’t protect me with silence. Worry with me. That’s what we signed up for.”
We called his friend, paid what we could and made a plan for the rest together.
No yelling.
No blame.
Now, whenever he says “Don’t worry,” I smile and reply, “Too late. I’m already worried. Let’s talk about it.”
People need to know that pride can destroy faster than poverty.
So if your partner ever says, “Don’t worry,” pause.
Look them in the eye.
And ask: “Are you truly fine… or are you pretending to be strong?”
Visit marriageandmoney.com.ng for money conversation templates to help you and the person you wish to share love and life with.
Adetutu Afolabi is a Personal Freedom Coach helping families build wealth through aligned values and intentional living. She believes strong relationships are key to lasting financial freedom
Copyright 2025 TheCable. All rights reserved. This material, and other digital content on this website, may not be reproduced, published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed in whole or in part without prior express written permission from TheCable.
Follow us on twitter @Thecablestyle