When Love Finally Knocked

Chapter 7 - The Girl Who Stayed

Three months.

That's how long it had been since John left for Dubai. And while Tinu Adeniyi's world hadn't exactly fallen apart, it definitely felt like someone had turned down the brightness a little.

Work? Thriving.

Bank account? Smiling and robust.

Heart? On" Do not Disturb."

At least that's what she told herself.

"Girl, I'm starting to think you and your laptop are in a serious relationship," Ucy said one evening, standing in the doorway of Tinu's office with two steaming bowls of hollow rice, looking a little concerned about her.

Tinu didn't look up." We're very happy together, holding up the laptop and smiling. He's very reliable, supportive, and doesn't ghost me for a job in Dubai." She was hurting inside, saying these words to Ucy, but pretended everything was okay on the outside.

Ucy placed a bowl in front of her. ''You need to get out more. There's a world beyond design sketches and heartbreak honey."

"I'm not heartbroken," Tinu protested.

'' Right. That's why you just used red wine as fabric dye last night."

Tinu blinked. " Creative expression?"

Ucy sighed dramatically. " Okay. We're hosting a brunch this weekend, you, me, and the girls. Dress up, show, and for once don't talk about marble countertops."

"Fine," Tinu muttered. "But if anyone mentions men, I'm leaving."

The brunch was at a rooftop restaurant, all fairy lights and good music. The girls came dressed to slay, each with stories of disastrous love lives and bottomless mimosas.

At some point, the conversation turned into a chorus of" Love is overrated" and chose "We choose soft life!"

Someone queued up Single Ladies on the speaker, and before long, they were all dancing on top of the table, heels of laughter echoing into the city air. Tinu couldn't help laughing, too. For the first time in weeks, it wasn't forced. She still missed John, of course. But she was also proud; she had chosen herself when it counted.

After brunch, she went back to her studio. There was something comforting about the smell of fresh paint and new beginnings. Her phone buzzed, a message from an unknown number.

Message: "If you could redesign love, what would it look like? Her brows furrowed. She replied, "Depends. Who's asking?" Then another message entered her phone:" An architect who misses your laugh." Her heart stopped. John, she wrote in her message, also calling his name out. Back in Abuja, he responded. Can I stop by your office?" Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then she smiled softly. "Only if you're bringing coffee. I'm out."