CHAPTER 2

AN UNEXPECTED FRIENDSHIP

He called two days later.

Amara stared at the unknown number on her phone screen for a long time before answering. She was at her desk, surrounded by campaign mockups

"Hello?"

"Hi. I was beginning to think you had blocked me before I even got a chance to annoy you." It was him.

Amara couldn't help but smile.

"I haven't."

"Good. Because I found a café that doesn't require you to get soaked to enter. Dinner? Tomorrow?"

She hesitated. Dinner felt like a date. And dates felt dangerous.

"Just dinner?" she asked.

"Just dinner. As friends. Friends eat dinner.

"Friends don't usually look at each other like you looked at me." "You're right. This friend thinks you're incredibly beautiful and hasn't stopped thinking about you since Tuesday. But we can start with friendship."

Amara laughed. No one had ever been that honest with her.

"Okay. Just dinner."

That "just dinner" turned into coffees, and walks along the Pleasure Park, and long phone calls at 11pm that stretched till 1am.

Daniel learned that Amara hated dishonesty more than anything, that she cried during adverts with children in them, that she could not cook jollof rice without burning it slightly.

Amara learned that Daniel secretly loved old romantic movies - "The Notebook made me tear up, don't tell anyone" - that he paid his former gateman's son's school fees, and that he wanted four kids.

"You don't look like someone who watches romantic movies," she teased one evening in his car.

"What do I look like?"

"Someone who watches Fast & Furious on repeat."

Daniel smiled, his eyes on her lips for a second too long. "I contain multitudes."

Their friendship became the safest place for both of them. But underneath it, something was shifting.

One night, after he dropped her off, Daniel texted

I had a good time tonight.

Amara replied: _Me too.

Then he said: Amara, can I be honest about something?

Her heart stopped. Yes. I don't think I can be just your friend anymore. And I don't want to pretend I can.

Amara stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. This was the moment she had been dreading and waiting for. She typed back slowly: Come pick me up tomorrow at 7. Don't be late.

THE FIRST DATE

Daniel arrived at Amara's small one-bedroom apartment on Friday at exactly 7:00pm. Not 7:05. Exactly 7. Amara opened the door and stopped breathing.

He wore a dark navy shirt, black trousers, and he was holding a small bouquet of white lilies. Not red roses. White lilies. How did he know she hated red roses?

"What is this?" she asked, even though she knew.

"A date," he said simply.

"You said we were friends."

"We are. Best friends who are about to go on a date. Friends can bring flowers, Amara."

"You are technically breaking the friendship rules."

"I never agreed to those rules."

She laughed and took the flowers. Their fingers brushed. That same electricity from the café.

She wore a simple blue dress she had bought two years ago and never had a reason to wear. Her mother had helped her curl her hair.

Daniel took her to a quiet rooftop restaurant overlooking the city lights. It wasn't the most expensive place, but it was thoughtful. He remembered she said she hated loud clubs.

For three hours, they talked. Not small talk. Real talk. About fears. About how Amara still flinched when she heard a man raise his voice because of her father. About how Daniel's last relationship ended because the woman said he worked too much.

"She wasn't wrong," he admitted. "I do work too much. But I want to work hard for something that matters. For someone that matters."

Amara felt her eyes sting.

At the end of the night, Daniel walked her to her door. The hallway light was flickering.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For tonight."

"For what?"

"For making me feel... seen."

Daniel stepped closer. He was so close she could smell his cologne - something woody and clean.

"I'd like to do it again," he whispered.

Amara looked into his eyes. For once, she didn't overthink.

"I think I'd like that."

Daniel leaned in, just a fraction. His eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. He was asking for permission without words.

Amara's heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it.

"Goodnight, Daniel," she said, stepping back at the last second. Daniel smiled, but his eyes were dark. "Goodnight, Amara." He walked away.

She closed the door and leaned against it, her hand on her chest. She touched her lips.

She was falling. And that terrified her more than anything

THE ATTRACTION

After that night, pretending they were only friends became a joke they both stopped telling.

Daniel started picking her up from work. Amara started cooking for him - badly burned jollof that he ate and called "the best in Rivers State" with a straight face.

Everyone at her office knew. "Your Oga is outside again," her colleague would sing.

One Saturday evening, after dinner at his place, they sat in his car. It was parked outside her compound. The security light was off. The city lights reflected on the windshield.

"You know something?" Daniel said, turning to her.

"What?"

"You make it very difficult for me to behave like a gentleman."

Amara raised an eyebrow, her pulse quickening. "And why is that?"

"Because every time you look at me like that, I forget every sensible thing I was about to say."

She laughed softly, but the air between them had changed. It was heavy.

Daniel reached for her hand. His thumb rubbed circles on her palm.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to," he whispered.

Amara didn't pull away. She couldn't.

"I don't want you to," she breathed.

He leaned closer. Slowly. Giving her time to change her mind.

She didn't.

Their lips met.

It wasn't rushed or hungry. It was gentle. Soft. Like a question being answered. Amara's hand found his shirt and gripped it.

When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his.

"I think we're in trouble," she whispered. Daniel smiled, his voice rough. "Beautiful trouble."

That kiss should have been the end of the beginning. It should have been simple

But Amara's phone buzzed in her bag. A message from her mother: _Vanessa called me today asking about your father. Who is Vanessa?

Amara's blood went cold.

Daniel's older sister had started digging.