"Morayo! Stop studying for one second and listen," Lia said over the phone, her voice full of excitement. "We need a date. Not with guys. With us. Just… fun. After the month we've had, I refuse to survive without some happiness."
I laughed, lying back on my bed. "A date with… peace and wine?"
"Yes! Paint and sip. Wine. Canvas. Colors everywhere. The works," she said dramatically. "It's mandatory. I'm holding you accountable."
"Fine," I said, smiling. "We'll do it. You're relentless, you know that?"
"Good. Relentless is my middle name," she replied.
Later that evening, I texted Femi, trying to keep it casual.
"Lia and I are going on a little date this weekend. Paint and sip. I'm actually looking forward to it".
His reply came almost immediately:
"Sounds perfect. You deserve some lightness".
Then, after a pause, another message appeared:
"We'll plan ours after".
I paused, staring at the screen. Ours? I whispered to myself.
Patient, I reminded myself.
Then he asked gently:
"Will you need anything for the date?".
I smirked, sleek and confident, and typed:
"If there's anything I need right now… it's money".
Almost immediately, my phone buzzed.
It was a nice amount—enough for the outing and then some. My chest tightened at the thoughtfulness.
"For paint and ease", his text said simply.
I smiled, shaking my head, and typed back:
"Thank you".
The weekend came, and Lia and I arrived at the paint-and-sip studio. The scent of acrylics and soft wine mixed perfectly with the mellow music in the background. She had already claimed a table near the window, canvases stacked neatly, aprons tied.
"This feels illegal," she whispered as we settled in. "Too calm. Too cute. Life shouldn't be allowed to feel this easy."
I laughed, dipping my brush in teal. "It's nice though, isn't it? A few hours of colors instead of chaos."
As we painted, I mentioned the money casually. "Got a little help covering this," I said, tapping my phone. "Not much… just thoughtful."
She paused, eyes twinkling. "Ah. Mr. Money Mysterious strikes again?"
I rolled my eyes, smirking. "Don't start. He's… anonymous for now."
Her grin widened. "When will you introduce me to him? Because generosity with boundaries? I like his spirit."
I laughed softly. "You'll meet him when I'm sure he's real."
She clinked her glass against mine. "To real things, then."
For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe. The stress, the fights, the pressure—it all faded into the soft brush strokes and laughter.
Maybe life could be more than just surviving. Maybe, slowly, it could be… living.