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✨ Dear Eva – Episode 2: "The First Spark"
> "Dear Eva."
The way Stan said it stayed with me long after we parted that day. Soft. Warm. Like my name mattered.
He didn't know it, but in that moment, something small and beautiful had started to grow inside me—a kind of boldness I hadn't felt in a long time.
But boldness doesn't feed a family.
That evening, as I got home, my sister Kamsi was already grinning like a fool.
> "Guess who reposted my selfie on his story?" she shrieked, waving her phone. "Kingsley!"
I forced a smile and went straight to the kitchen. I had barely opened the pot of rice when Mama called out from the parlor.
> "Eva, Kingsley is such a good man. Don't let him slip away, eh? He's the kind of son-in-law any mother would pray for."
I bit my tongue. Hard.
They didn't know how heavy it felt—being loved by someone you didn't want. They only saw the money, the influence, the "help" he had given us. Paying for Papa's surgery had bought him more than their respect—it had bought their loyalty.
The next day at the hotel, I caught glimpses of Stan from time to time. He was kind to everyone. Focused. He didn't flirt or linger unnecessarily. But every time he passed my desk, I felt his eyes on me for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
And I liked it.
At lunch break, I saw him alone at the staff canteen, staring at a cup of garri. My heart tugged.
> "No food?" I asked, walking over.
He smiled shyly. "Waiting for salary."
I didn't think—I just handed him my own food flask. He refused at first, but I insisted.
> "Eat, biko. You'll return it later."
He hesitated… then finally took it. Our fingers brushed.
That night, I found myself writing again.
Not about Kingsley. Not about pain or fear.
But about hope.
About Stan.
> "Dear Stan," I wrote, "you remind me that my heart still beats. That I'm more than just someone's daughter, someone's employee, someone's survival plan."
But the world I lived in wasn't fair. And the very next day, Kingsley showed up with something that chilled me to the bone:
> A brand new iPhone and a bouquet of red roses.
> "For you, dear Eva," he said, in front of the entire staff lounge.
I froze. Everyone stared. Stan, standing near the water dispenser, looked away quickly.
> "I can't accept this," I whispered.
> "Of course you can," Kingsley replied, too loudly. "You deserve everything."
But I didn't want everything. I wanted freedom. I wanted to choose my love.
Later that evening, as I walked home, Stan caught up with me at the staff gate.
> "Why didn't you take the gift?" he asked, quietly.
> "Because I don't want a life that comes with strings," I said. "Especially when it's tied around my neck."
He didn't say anything. But the look in his eyes said everything.
> He understood.
And in that silence between us, the first spark lit a flame.
> To be continued...
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