I don't know how I made it home that night without my heart bursting out of my chest.
Adrian had asked me to be his girlfriend. Not his fake girlfriend. Not his "let's keep appearances" girlfriend. His actual girlfriend.
And I said no.
The second I shut the door of Sophia's apartment, I slid down against it like some tragic Nollywood heroine. My brain replayed the scene over and over again, like a badly edited TikTok loop: the balloons, the fancy restaurant, Adrian's intense eyes... and then my ridiculous lips going, I can't.
Ugh. I covered my face with both hands. Who says no to Adrian freaking Cole? Who says no to a man who looks like he was carved by angels with six-packs and black cards?
Apparently, me.
And I had my reasons. At least, I thought they were reasons.
Because somewhere inside me, a little voice kept whispering: Amara, are you sure you're not using him?
The thing is... I couldn't ignore the facts.
Fact one: The first time I ever thought about dating a billionaire, it wasn't about love or destiny or vibes. It was because I wanted comfort. Security. Someone who could pay NEPA bills without flinching and buy suya without calculating transport fare in his head.
Fact two: That little fantasy became my reality when Adrian walked into my life.
And fact three: Now here I was, heart beating like a talking drum every time he smiled at me, terrified that maybe all of this was because of the money.
What if I didn't actually like him? What if it was just the billionaire sparkle fogging my brain?
The more I thought about it, the more I felt like a fraud.
By the time Sophia walked into the room, she found me lying on the floor, dramatically sprawled out like someone had unplugged my battery.
"Wow." She paused at the door with a piece of chin-chin in her mouth. "Did Adrian dump you?"
I groaned. "I dumped myself."
Sophia raised an eyebrow and sat on the edge of the bed, crunching noisily. "Explain."
So I did. Every ridiculous thought. Every insecurity. How maybe, just maybe, I was with Adrian for the wrong reasons.
"And then he went and asked me to be his girlfriend," I finished, flopping onto my back. "And I panicked. Because what if he's just a walking ATM in my head? What if I'm... gold-digging?"
Sophia stared at me like I'd just confessed to hiding a dead body in the closet. Then she laughed. And not just a small laugh—full-blown, knee-slapping, tears-in-her-eyes laughter.
"Sophia, this is not funny!" I sat up, scandalized.
"It's hilarious," she wheezed. "You're out here crying because you think you might be a gold-digger, when you're literally the most dramatic, hopeless, romance-obsessed person I know. Girl, you are in love."
I folded my arms. "Am I? Or am I just in love with his money?"
She leaned in and tapped my forehead. "Listen, dummy. If it was just the money, you would've fallen for every other rich man who crossed your path. And believe me, there are plenty of them in this city. But did you? No. You fell for Adrian. You fell for the way he smirks, the way he pretends not to care but actually cares way too much, the way he plays basketball with orphans even though he looks like he's never touched a ball in his life."
I tried to argue, but she shushed me with a chin-chin crumb on my lips.
"Amara, money is just a bonus. Your feelings? Those are the real deal."
I blinked at her, my chest tightening. Sometimes Sophia acted like she was the clown, but moments like this reminded me she had more wisdom in her than ten motivational speakers on YouTube.
"Okay," I whispered. "Then maybe... maybe I should tell him the truth."
Sophia nodded. "Yes. Tell him. Before you overthink yourself into a coma."
Which is how I ended up sitting across from Adrian two days later, my heart pounding so loud I was sure the waiter could hear it.
We were at a quiet café this time—no balloons, no candlelight, just him sipping coffee and me fidgeting like a criminal about to confess.
"Adrian," I blurted before I lost my nerve. "I need to tell you something."
He set his cup down, eyes sharp on me. "Go on."
I swallowed. "This whole thing... the way we met... it wasn't exactly an accident."
His eyebrow arched slightly, but he didn't speak.
"I mean, it kind of was, but not really," I rambled. "The truth is, before I met you, I told my friend I wanted to date a billionaire. It was like this silly idea in my head. And then I met you, and—" I waved my hands helplessly. "So yeah. That's it. That's my dirty little secret. Maybe I only wanted you because of the money, and that's why I panicked."
There. Said it.
I braced myself for him to frown, stand up, and call me a user. Instead, Adrian... laughed.
Not a small chuckle. A full, genuine, deep laugh that made my stomach flip.
"Amara," he said, shaking his head, "I thought it was something serious. You scared me."
My jaw dropped. "Serious? I basically confessed to being a gold-digger!"
He leaned forward, smirk tugging at his lips. "And?"
"And?!"
"Do you think I care?" His eyes softened, and my heart almost stopped. "If you want me for my money, then want me for my money. I want you to. Because my plan is to take care of you. Completely. That's not something I'm ashamed of. That's something I'm choosing."
I blinked at him, speechless.
"You think your feelings are cheapened because I'm rich," he continued, voice low and steady. "But the truth is, I've been watching you from day one. And I know—money or no money—you'd still drive me crazy. You'd still make me laugh when I don't want to. You'd still pour drinks on strangers in restaurants for me. You'd still..." He paused, lips quirking. "Kiss me when you think you shouldn't."
My face went hot. "You're making me sound reckless."
"You are reckless," he teased. Then his tone softened again. "But you're also real. And I don't get real very often."
Something in my chest cracked open, and before I knew it, tears were sliding down my cheeks. I laughed through them, wiping my eyes. "I hate you."
"You don't," he said simply, sliding his hand over mine. "You're just scared. But don't be. I'm not going anywhere."
And in that moment, sitting across from Adrian Cole with coffee between us and tears staining my cheeks, I realized Sophia had been right.
It wasn't about the money.
It was about him.