I Found Love

I found love Episode 2

I FOUND LOVE

By Charles N Okere

Episode 2

Saturday, 8:00 AM

A persistent knock on my door jolted me awake. Yawning and stretching, I shuffled to the door, rubbing sleep from my eyes. To my surprise, Jane stood there, dressed in a white sweatshirt and joggers, her face lit with a teasing smile.

"Good morning, sleepyhead! It's obvious you just woke up. What time did you leave the club last night?" she asked, her tone playful.

I stood frozen, my mind racing. How did she find me? I wondered under my breath.

"Good morning, Jane.

Please, come in," I managed, stepping aside.

She thanked me and glided into my sitting room, her confidence filling the space. "Welcome to my humble home, Jane. Make yourself comfortable," I said, gesturing to the three-seater sofa.

"Thank you," she replied, settling in gracefully.

I sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance, still processing her unexpected visit. "Jane, I left the club about two hours after you did," I answered, addressing her earlier question...

"Okay, I bet you're surprised to see me and wondering how I found your address, right?" she said, reading my expression.

I nodded..

"There's a GPS tracker in the diamond bracelet I left at the club last night. I'm glad you found it—it gave me an excuse to see your ugly face again," she teased, her smile infectious.

I chuckled, relieved. "Wow, thank God you came. I was wondering how to return it to you. Thanks for saving me the trouble."

"You're welcome, dear."

"Excuse me for a moment. Let me get the bracelet." I stepped into my study, retrieved it, and handed it to her.

"Chibu, I need a favor," she said, her tone shifting to something more serious.

"Okay, depends on the favor," I replied cautiously...

She hesitated, then sighed. "What I'm about to say might sound strange, and I can’t believe I’m even asking this. But… can you pretend to be my partner? Like, act as if we’re in a serious relationship?"

I blinked, confused. "I don’t understand. Why would you want me to do that?"

"It wasn’t my idea, I swear. It’s just… my family and friends have been pressuring me. They’re desperate to meet my ‘lover,’ especially my parents and siblings. My parents’ birthdays are this Saturday—they share the same date—and their one wish is for me to introduce my partner as their birthday gift. But I don’t have one."

I stared at her, mouth agape. "You’re kidding, right?"

"Kidding about what?" she shot back.

"About not having a man in your life."

"I’m dead serious, Chibu. I’m not ready to date again. Not after my last relationship—my first, actually—ended in heartbreak. I was 18 when I fell for my ex. I thought we were soulmates, destined to be together.

But…" She paused, her voice cracking. "Why am I even telling you this? He never loved me. He was a gold-digging opportunist. We dated for five and a half years, and he ran off to Canada with another woman after stealing five million naira from me." Tears streamed down her face.

I froze, unsure how to respond. Should I comfort her? Say something profound? I’m a lawyer, not a therapist, and my own heartbreak left me clueless about the right words.

As I hesitated, Jane grabbed a throw pillow and smacked me on the head. "Hey I exclaimed. "What was that for?"

She sighed dramatically. "What kind of man are you? Can’t even console a crying woman? Don’t you know all ladies are babies when they cry in front of a man? You’re not even romantic. Do you even have a girlfriend?"

"You turned me into a stammering mess!" I protested. "If you must know, I’m a lawyer, not a romance expert, and no, I don’t have a girlfriend. Don’t ask why."

"Yes, sir!" she teased. "So, will you do it?"

I sighed. "Yes, I will."

Her face lit up, and she threw her arms around me. "Thank you so much! I’ll book our flight tickets to Abuja tomorrow. We’ll leave Thursday so I can help with the birthday preparations. I’m the only daughter and the youngest of four, so it’s kind of my thing. Is that okay with you?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"Can I ask you something?" I added.

"Of course."

"How long have you been… you know, single?"

She paused. "Four years. Anyway, Chibu, I should get going. Thanks again."

I walked her to her car, startled to see muscular soldiers standing by a van nearby. Bodyguards? I thought, whispering to myself.

"Goodbye, Chibu. Catch you later!" Jane called, zooming off as the soldiers followed in their van.

I trudged back to my apartment, my mind spinning.

Five Days Later

We arrived in Abuja late in the evening, our flight delayed by bad weather. Jane insisted I stay in her room at her father’s multimillion-naira duplex to make our act convincing. "Chibu, my family’s sharp. They’ll spot any slip-up if we’re not careful. We need to act like real lovers, okay?"

After much debate, I agreed, though I couldn’t wrap my head around the pressure she faced. She’s only 27, I thought. Why the rush to marry? In Nigeria, though, society often judges unmarried women harshly, pushing them into rushed decisions. I muttered these thoughts to myself as Jane went to the kitchen to grab us some food.

At bedtime, she suggested we share her queen-sized bed, but I insisted on the couch. No way was I crossing that line.

Next Morning, 7:30 AM

I was dozing on the couch when Jane suddenly leapt out of bed and rushed toward me, tapping my chest. "Wake up, sleepyhead! Get to the bed—now!"

"Why?" I groaned, half-asleep.

"Stop being a baby and just do it!" she whispered urgently, practically dragging me to the bed.

She messed up the sheets to make it look like we’d been sharing it all night, then lay beside me, resting her head on my chest and her hand on my stomach. I realized what she was doing—staging a scene. But for who?

As if reading my mind, she whispered, "My brother and his wife just arrived from South Africa. She insisted on seeing us."

I sighed. "Is she that jobless?"

Minutes later, a knock came at the door. "Come in!" Jane called.

A woman entered, her voice sweet but hauntingly familiar—a voice that had once vowed to never let me move on. As she approached, Jane planted a kiss on my lips. We stood to greet her.

"Sugar, meet Amarachi, my brother’s wife. Amarachi, meet my sugar, my honey, my darling, my husband-to-be," Jane said, kissing me again. Caught up in the moment, I kissed her back, the passion surprising even me.

Amarachi and I acted like strangers, exchanging polite smiles and greetings as if we’d never met. But the way she stared at Jane and me—her eyes glinting with something like jealousy—told me something wasn’t right.

TBC

© Charles N Okere