Chioma and Kunle married quietly, in a small ceremony at the bakery, with only close
friends and family present. Zara was there. Tunde was there. The young bakers and street
children who had become like family were all there.
They did not change anything about Chioma's life. She still woke at four in the morning.
She still made bread. She still taught. Kunle joined her in these things. He learned to bake,
though he was never as good as she was. He supported her teaching. He understood that her
work was not something she could compromise on.
But now, there was someone to come home to. There was someone who cared about her,
who asked about her day, who reminded her that she was more than just her work.
At the wedding, Kunle said something that Chioma had never heard before: "I love her not
in spite of her obsession with bread, but because of it. She has taught me that true love is about
maintaining your integrity while letting someone else in. That is the kind of love I want to give
her. That is the kind of life I want to build with her."
Chioma cried hearing this. She cried because she had been so afraid that asking for love
would mean losing her work. And now she understood that the two could coexist