Finding Love

His Truth, Her Walls

**The Encounter – Thursday Afternoon**

Jane hadn’t meant to stop walking. But seeing Jide was like slipping on black ice—her body froze before her brain could process what was happening.

He saw her. And just like that, the mask dropped from his face.

He looked older.

Or maybe he looked exactly the same, and she was the one who had changed.

He blinked, unsure if she’d bolt or stay. Then—he smiled. That same smooth, empty smile.

“Jane,” he said, walking toward her like nothing ever happened.

Her feet stayed rooted. Her hands? Clenched tight.

“It’s been a while,” he added casually.

“Has it?” she replied quietly.

He reached out, as if expecting a hug. She stepped back—slow, firm.

“Wow,” he chuckled, letting his hand drop. “Still holding a grudge?”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “A grudge implies a misunderstanding. You were clear. You didn’t want a woman who thought too highly of herself. That’s not confusion. That’s a choice.”

His smile faltered.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You look good.”

“I am good,” she said. “You didn’t ruin me, Jide. You just... helped me leave faster.”

That hit something. He flinched, barely.

“I was wrong,” he said, after a beat. “Back then. I was scared. You were already more than me. I thought if we stayed together, you’d outgrow me.”

Jane stared at him. That was the apology?

But strangely, she didn’t need more.

“I did outgrow you,” she said. “But not because I left. Because I grew.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing something he didn’t say.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

She didn’t answer.

He stepped back, gave a small wave, and walked away.

She watched him disappear into the crowd.

And the most surprising part?

She felt nothing.

No hate. No hurt. Not even pride.

Just peace.

---

**Later That Night – Nathaniel Calls**

Her phone rang at 8:47 PM.

“Hey,” came Nathaniel’s voice, gentle. “You didn’t reply to my last message.”

“I saw Jide,” she said.

A pause. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she replied. “But I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Okay,” he said simply.

His calm tone made her exhale, slower than she realized.

She sat cross-legged on her bed. “He said I outgrew him.”

Nathaniel’s voice came steady. “Well, I wouldn’t date a woman who wasn’t constantly growing.”

She smiled into the phone.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.

“With me?”

“With everything. Work. Linda. You. Myself.”

Nathaniel paused.

“Want to know what scares me?” he asked.

Jane leaned back. “What?”

“Trusting someone enough to show them the parts of me that failed.”

She blinked. Unexpected.

“And still... you’re trying with me,” she said.

“I’m trying because of you.”

Her breath caught.

They didn’t speak again.

But the silence between them? It felt safe.

---

**The Storm – Friday**

Linda was waiting at Jane’s desk when she arrived.

She handed her a brown envelope.

Jane opened it.

**Reassignment. Effective immediately.

You will now report directly to External Partnerships under Mr. Ayodele.**

She looked up.

“What is this?” she asked.

Linda’s face was unreadable.

“Apparently, Mr. Ayodele thinks your talents are being underused.”

Jane’s heart pounded. “You signed off on this?”

Linda gave a small, polite smile.

“I didn’t have a choice. The board approved it.”

Just like that—Jane was pulled out of Linda’s reach.

But not out of her line of fire.

As Linda walked away, Jane knew: this wasn’t a win.

It was war.

---

**Nathaniel’s Office – The New Beginning**

It wasn’t a flashy office. No glass walls. Just warm lighting, a tidy desk, and books that looked actually read.

Nathaniel stood when she walked in.

“Welcome to chaos,” he said.

She smiled. But before sitting, she asked, “Why did you fight for me?”

He looked at her—steady, serious.

“Because you fight for yourself.”

She didn’t know what to say.

So she opened her notebook and said, “Okay. Let’s get to work.”

But her heart? It had already started writing something she couldn’t erase.

---

**Three Days Later – Morning Light**

Sunlight filtered through Nathaniel’s blinds, casting shadows across her new desk. Jane traced the wood grain with her fingers, savoring the rare quiet before the day began.

Three days since the reassignment. No Linda. Just something more unnerving: possibility.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Tara.

**"Lunch today? I need ALL the tea on working with Mr. Dimples."**

Jane smiled.

**"Nothing to share. All professional."**

Tara replied instantly.

**"Lies. You glow different now."**

Jane was still smiling when Nathaniel walked in with two cups of coffee and a folder.

“Morning,” he said, setting a cup on her desk. “Three sugars, right?”

She blinked—surprised he’d remembered.

“Thank you.” She took it. Their fingers didn’t touch. She wasn’t sure if that was intentional.

He leaned against the desk, close but not intrusive. His cologne smelled like cedar and clean laundry.

“I’m meeting potential partners for the Women in Tech Accelerator today. I’d like you to join. Your perspective would be valuable.”

Jane looked up. “Partners as in...?”

“Major tech firms. Banks. A couple university deans.” He smiled. “I need someone to translate my excitement into something that sounds less like a fever dream.”

She laughed. “So I’m your reality check?”

“No. My reality enhancer.” He placed a folder on her desk. “Meeting’s at two. Review this before then?”

She opened it after he left. A polished pitch deck. But what caught her eye was the sticky note:

**"These people only understand projections and ROI. Help me make them see people instead of profits. – N"**

Something unfurled inside her. Not attraction—or not just that—but recognition.

Nathaniel didn’t try to climb her walls.

He was waiting patiently on the other side.

---

**The Meeting – Transcorp Hilton, Maitama**

The conference room felt both too grand and too small. Chandeliers sparkled. Leather chairs gleamed. The Abuja skyline loomed outside.

Around the table: five executives, three university reps, and Jane—notebook open, pen ready, pulse steady.

Nathaniel stood at the head, calm and sure.

“Nigeria produces over 500,000 graduates each year,” he began. “But less than 12% of our tech workforce is female. That’s not just a gender gap—it’s a market gap.”

Jane watched the room. Interest, but guarded. They wanted data, not dreams.

He caught her eye. A small nod.

She spoke up.

“If I may,” she said. “This isn’t just social impact. It’s market expansion. Diverse teams generate 19% more revenue. Every woman we train is a gateway to a community you haven’t reached yet.”

The bank executive leaned in. “Go on.”

Jane flipped to her notes. “Women influence 80% of household decisions in Nigeria. They’re community hubs. Every woman who learns tech shares it—at least with fifteen others.”

She turned to the university reps. “For you, this becomes a steady pipeline of students who never thought tech was for them.”

The room shifted. Calculations were happening now.

Nathaniel picked it up from there—clear, confident.

By the end, three partnerships were tentatively secured.

As they walked out together, Nathaniel glanced at her.

“That was—”

“Just doing my job,” she said.

“No. That was brilliance.”

She looked away. Praise still felt foreign.

At the door, he stopped.

“I know you have boundaries. I respect them. But I want you to know—I see you. Not just your work. You.”

She looked at him. Really looked.

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t much.

But it was the first brick she removed from the wall.

---

**The Warning – That Evening**

Jane was packing up when her phone rang. Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Jane Ajayi?” A woman’s voice. Calm, unfamiliar.

“Yes?”

“My name is Amara. I used to work with Nathaniel at Ayocom Lagos.”

Jane’s hand tightened.

“I’m listening.”

“I saw your name in a press release. You’re working closely with him?”

“Yes,” she said carefully. “Why?”

“Has he told you what really happened in Lagos?”

Jane’s stomach turned. “He said he was cleared.”

A soft, bitter laugh. “Legally, yes. But that’s not the whole story.”

Jane sat down, suddenly needing to.

“What are you saying?”

“He’s brilliant. Charismatic. Makes you feel like you’re the only one who understands him. But when things get messy? He saves himself first.”

Jane went still.

“How do you know this?”

“Because I was you. Three years ago. The confidante. The rising star. Until I wasn’t useful anymore.”

Jane felt the cold spread in her chest.

“Why are you telling me?”

A pause.

“Because someone should have warned me,” Amara said. “I’m not saying don’t trust him. Just... keep your eyes open. And your heart guarded.”

Then the line went dead.

Jane sat in silence, the phone still pressed to her ear.

Listening to nothing.