Love, forever

Lagos, the principal metropolis of western Nigeria, was a city that never truly rested. Even in the dead of night, one could still make out the faint hum of generators and the distant honks and vrooms of motorists. Everyone moved, and indeed lived, with a kind of perpetual frantic rush, molded by years of struggling for space on the cramped roads, streets and office buildings that made up the metropolis. For Damilola Ajayi, a 32-year-old banker, the chaos of Lagos was equal parts comforting and overwhelming, a mix of ups and downs that had become her life.

Dami, as her friends and family called her, had worked tirelessly for years in the pursuit of stability in life. She had a small, but comfortable apartment in Surulere, a well-paying job, and big dreams of running a big boutique someday. Yet, despite her hard work, life seemed to enjoy playing cruel tricks on her.

It all began with Ayo. They had met at a mutual friend's wedding three years ago. Ayo was an architect with a warm smile, an even warmer heart, and a calm demeanor. Their love had been swift and intense, the kind that could make one believe in fairy tales. Ayo was the first man Dami had truly given her heart to, and she had let herself believe in forever.

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But fate had other plans.

One evening, after a long day at work, Dami arrived home to find a note on the dining table. She had guessed it would be from Ayo- he had a spare key to her house. Maybe a romantic note inviting her out for dinner, she had thought.

Dami, I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I have to go. Be happy.

It was from Ayo. His neat handwriting was as familiar as her own name, the words brief, cutting and without explanation. She called his phone repeatedly, but it went straight to voicemail everytime. Confusion turned into panic, panic into heartbreak. Days became weeks, weeks became months, and still no words from Ayo. His number was reachable, and his friends had no idea where he was, although she suspected that they were hiding the truth. Eventually, Dami had to accept that he was no longer in her life. A fleeting bliss. Gone, like a leaf in the wind.

She buried herself in her work, suppressing the pain the only way she knew how. Time passed, and though the ache never subsided totally, she learned how to live with it.

Then, almost a year later, tragedy struck again.

Her mother, a retired teacher who had raised her alone for most of her life, fell ill. The doctors said it was kidney failure, and that she needed a transplant urgently, but the cost was staggering. Even with her savings and contributions from relatives,the money wasn't enough. She applied for government loans, but the process dragged on, and her mother's condition worsened.

Dami began selling her belongings, piece by piece. Her designer handbags, her jewelry, even her beloved car. Nothing mattered as much as her mother's survival. But despite all her sacrifices, the money still wasn't enough. On one cool, peaceful night, Mrs. Ajayi took her last breath.

Dami shattered.

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The grief was suffocating, wrapping around her like a heavy blanket. She floated through life like a ghost, vaguely aware, existing but not living. Work became mechanical, and sleep was a luxury she could rarely afford. Lagos, once vibrant and positively chaotic, now felt like a prison.

One afternoon, as she sat at her desk in the bank, lost in thought, she heard a familiar voice. Her heart skipped a beat, and one name flashed in her mind. That voice. She recognized it anywhere. He spoke again.

"Hey."

She looked up, and there he was, standing right in front of her. He looked different- thinner, older, yet his eyes twinkled with the familiar boyish charm. It was him, unmistakably. Her heart clenched with a mix of anger and something else. Something more pleasant.

"Dami..." He whispered, his eyes pleading.

She wanted to scream, to ask him why he had left, why he had vanished without a trace. But her voice betrayed her.

Instead, she stood up and walked away.

Ayo didn't give up. He waited outside the bank every day, hoping she would talk to him. Eventually, her curiosity got the best of her, and she agreed to meet up for coffee.

"I left because I was scared," he admitted.

"I was diagnosed with leukaemia. The doctors said it was aggressive. I didn't want you to watch me waste away. I thought leaving would be easier for the both of us."

Tears welled in Dami's eyes. "You had no right to make that choice for me. We were supposed to be forever, weren't we?"

"I know. And I'm sorry," he said. "I fought hard. I went abroad for treatment, and by God's good grace, I survived. But every single day, I regretted leaving you."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

"I heard about your mother," he said softly, his eyes showing genuine emotion. "I'm so, so sorry."

She nodded. The pain was still raw, but for the first time in months, it didn't feel as suffocating.

As weeks passed, they slowly found their way back to each other. It wasn't easy. Trust had to be rebuilt, wounds had to heal. But love, true love, had a way of enduring even the worst storms.

Ayo, now healthier and more determined, helped Dami start up her dream boutique, and in time, Dami began to believe in happiness again.

One evening, after a tiring day at the boutique, Dami arrived home. She unlocked the door, and kicked off her shoes immediately she entered. Food was the only thing on her mind. As she walked towards the kitchen, something white on the dining table caught her eye.

A piece of paper, folded into a neat square. A sense of dread came up on her. As she walked towards it, a sinking feeling developed in the pit of her stomach. Hands trembling, she picked up the paper and read its content.

She blinked, then smiled and heaved a huge sigh of relief simultaneously. She read the words again.

Hey, babe. I know you had a long day today, but I made a dinner reservation for us. I would love to take you out tonight. Be ready by 6pm. I love you.

She clutched the paper to her chest. Her mind roamed, trying to imagine what he had planned. She chided herself for thinking otherwise.

Time to get ready, she thought to herself.

True to his word, Ayo came over at 6pm to pick her up. The look on his face when he saw her made her day. She was in an elegant silk spaghetti strap, cowl-neck dress that was backless to show off her smooth skin. The cream colour of the dress contrasted beautifully with her dark skin, and a bit of gold jewelry completed the look.

"You look breathtaking, Damilola Ajayi."

She laughed at the way he called her full name, like it was an exotic cocktail he was tasting.

" Not bad yourself, Ayomide Coker. Fantastic, actually."

He was wearing a charcoal-grey suit with an ash-coloured tie and a pair of black Oxfords. Fantastic.

The night went by quickly, and after a perfect meal and more glasses of champagne than they would have liked to have, Dami and Ayo found themselves staring at each other.

Dami went first.

"I love you, Ayo."

"I love you, too, Dami."

Dami looked into his kind eyes, her heart full of love and joy. This was her forever. She gazed into those eyes, imagining the perfect future. She was so engrossed that she didn't notice when a napkin fell to the ground.

Ayo quickly went down on one knee and made like he wanted to pick it up, but before Dami could say anything, there he was: kneeling before her and holding a ring up to her. There was a gem on the ring. Alexandrite. Her favorite.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she kept mute, afraid that she would cry the second she opened her mouth. The silence seemed to confuse Ayo; his eyes were changing from the usual hopeful brightness to an expectant, questioning look.

She took a deep breath. This was it. She nodded, holding out her left hand. Ayo sighed with relief, and slid the ring onto her finger. He stood up and took her hand, tugging her lightly to raise her up from her chair. He looked into her eyes, and cradled her face gingerly. She looked into his own eyes, and was sure that what she saw was what he, too, saw. Happiness. Love. Forever.

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Good day everyone! This story was a product of my pondering on the popular saying: "what is yours will always come back to you". I hope you all find it interesting, and would love to hear your thoughts! Thank you 😊