A whole week later, life had managed to return to something like normal.
Well, almost.
I still checked my phone more than was healthy. Still caught myself sighing at random intervals like an abandoned Nollywood heroine. Still pretended to Sophia that I wasn't lowkey waiting for Adrian to remember that I existed.
But I had reached a kind of rhythm.
Wake up. Work. Eat. Pretend not to miss him. Repeat.
That Saturday morning, I decided I deserved bread. Not just any bread—the soft, stretchy kind from the supermarket down the street. If heartbreak was going to kill me, at least I'd have carbs to send me off.
So I stepped out of the apartment, bonnet neatly tucked, slippers on my feet, nylon bag in hand. Bread mission activated.
Then I saw it.
A black, flashy car parked right in front of the building. The kind of car that didn't belong in my neighborhood. The kind of car that made people pause mid-gossip and start imagining destinies.
My first thought was, Who parked that thing here?
My second thought—when the driver's door opened—was, God, please, don't let it be who I think it is.
And then he stepped out.
Adrian.
My heart almost stopped. Actually, no—it skipped, stuttered, and then started drumming like it was auditioning for a fuji band.
My Adrian Cole—wait when did he become mine—Standing in front of Sophia's apartment building like he hadn't just vanished into thin billionaire air for weeks.
I froze. My brain screamed, Walk, fool! but my legs moved like they were wading through a pot of soup.
Step by step, I forced myself closer until I was standing right in front of him. My arms instinctively itched to fling themselves around him, but at the last second, I wrapped them around myself instead, squeezing tight like I was holding me back from myself.
He looked good. But of course, he did. Adrian always looked good. Like he belonged in a magazine cover about men who had too much money and too much cologne. His suit was sharp, his shoes were probably worth more than my rent, and his face—don't get me started.
"You're back," I said, my voice embarrassingly soft.
He nodded once, his expression unreadable.
My heart squeezed. Couldn't he at least smile? A small grin? A little "I missed you"? Something?
"Hope the trip was okay," I tried again.
Another nod.
Silence settled between us, but it wasn't heavy. Weirdly enough, it wasn't awkward either. It was... comfortable. Like the kind of silence that didn't need filling. Like we were having a whole conversation without words.
I stared at him, and he stared at me, and for one wild moment I thought—if silence feels this good with him, what would everything else feel like?
Then he broke it.
"I dropped by to say hi. I'll see you later."
Just like that.
Five words to leave me floating.
Before I could even blink, he was back in his car. The engine purred, the tires rolled, and in seconds, he was gone with the wind.
And me? I stood there in front of Sophia's house, bonnet tilting, slippers dusty —floating like I was high on oxygen.
Pride forgotten. Sense forgotten.
Only Adrian remained.
When I finally floated back inside, Sophia was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone like a queen awaiting gossip. She lifted her head lazily.
"What took you so long?"
I froze in the doorway.
Her eyes narrowed. Then they slid to my hand. "Where's the bread?"
Bread.
Ah. Bread!
I slapped my forehead. "Jesus!"
Sophia sat up, suspicion flickering in her gaze. "Amara. Where. Is. The. Bread?"
I spun on my heels and bolted out the door again, slippers flapping. My heart was still dancing from Adrian, but my brain was screaming go and buy the bread before your best friend kills you.
At the supermarket, I grabbed the first loaf I saw like it was a lifeline. The cashier gave me a strange look, probably because I was still grinning like a madwoman. I hugged the bread to my chest as if it was a love letter.
If only she knew.
By the time I returned, Sophia was waiting at the door, arms crossed like a disappointed mother.
"Talk. Now."
I shoved the bread at her like a peace offering.
"Don't bribe me with carbs," she said, tossing it onto the couch. "What happened?"
I tried to play dumb. "Happened? What could possibly happen between me, this bread, and—"
"Adrian was here, wasn't he?" she cut in.
I gasped. "How did you know?"
"Girl, you're glowing. You're literally glowing. And you forgot bread. The only time you forget bread is if Jesus himself comes down or if Adrian appears."
Caught.
I collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic groan. "He was here, Soph. He just... showed up."
"And?" she pressed.
"And nothing! He just said hi, nodded like a bobblehead, and then left me standing there like a fool."
Sophia squealed, clapping her hands. "You're in deep! Oh my God, you're so in love with him it's embarrassing!"
I grabbed a throw pillow and smacked her with it. "Don't say it like that!"
She dodged, laughing. "What's wrong? It's cute. Our little Amara has finally been captured by a billionaire."
I pouted, hugging the pillow to my chest. "But he didn't say anything, Soph. Just hi. That's all."
Sophia gave me a look. "And yet you're smiling like bread just confessed it loved you back."
I buried my face in the pillow, muffling my giggles. "He looked hot."
"Of course, he did." She plopped beside me, snagged the bread, and tore off a piece. "Love makes us dumb."
I groaned. "If this ends badly, just bury me with Agege bread and puff-puff. That way, at least my ghost won't be hungry."
Sophia snorted, crumbs flying. "Deal."
We laughed until my cheeks hurt, but deep down, the laughter couldn't hide the truth.
Adrian was back.
And with just a nod, a glance, and five little words, he had my heart soaring higher than it had any right to be.