As I walked into my apartment, I picked up my phone and saw messages from both Yemi and Daniel on WhatsApp. I opened Yemi’s message first.
“I’m sorry, babe. This isn’t how I wished things to end. I promise to always be a friend.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes, went to the chat settings, and clicked Block Contact. I blocked his number in my phone and then on Facebook too. Those were the three platforms he could reach me on, and I was determined to cut off all contact.
Next, I opened Daniel’s messages:
“I hope you didn’t go back to that fool’s place?”
“Why are you not picking up my calls or responding to my messages?”
“Babe, don’t make me lose faith in humanity. You’ve taught me love like never before; don’t make me lose you.”
I replied with a short message:
“Just got home. Speak in the morning.”
Daniel had tried calling multiple times while I was in Yemi’s car, but I didn’t pick up. Between the tension in the car and my own emotional state, I wasn’t ready to deal with him.
I expected Daniel to call again after seeing my message, maybe to confirm I was home safely. But after waiting for 15 minutes without a call, I figured he must have fallen asleep. I tossed my phone aside and laid down on the bed, still fully dressed, shoes and all.
I startled awake to the sound of my phone ringing. It was my friend, Enitan.
“Hey, babe,” I answered groggily.
“Ahn ahn! You’re still sleeping? I pity you! You better wake up and clean yourself up because you’re about to go viral on social media, looking like someone a cat dragged out of a bag.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the time—10:00 AM. How had I slept so deeply for so long?
“Babe, what are you talking about?” I asked, still confused.
“Stay there and be asking questions until they knock on your door with a camera. I don’t want Instablog carrying my babe’s picture looking rough. Better freshen up. You’ll understand soon enough. Bye!”
She hung up before I could respond.
I jumped off the bed and rushed into the bathroom. I was halfway through my skincare routine when my phone rang again. This time, it was Daniel.
“Sweetheart, come downstairs,” he said.
“Excuse me? Downstairs where?”
“Downstairs, outside your building.”
I quickly threw on a dress and dashed downstairs. As I stepped out of the compound, I froze.
Daniel was kneeling by his car, holding a bouquet of flowers and a small gift bag. Behind him, a trumpeter was playing “Forgive Me” by Tracy Chapman—that lady has all my mumu buttons. What an intentional man. How did he know how much I loved this song? My neighbors started gathering on their balconies, smiling and whispering. My yeye landlord’s daughter, who has been asking me to be her mentor, shouted from their balcony, “I go love ooo!”
Embarrassed yet amused, I walked toward Daniel and tried to pull him up, but he refused.
“Not until you say the words, ‘I forgive you.’”
“Okay, okay. Baby, I forgive you.”
What’s there not to forgive? The last thing I needed at that moment was anything that would make me lose on all sides. Yemi was bad news. Daniel is good enough to know that he goofed and is here to apologise with such a grand gesture. He’s a man for the keeps and yes, he is now beginning to understand the things that make me angry. These are teething problems in a relationship and it is okay. We all get to learn.
Daniel stood, took my hand, and we walked back to my apartment. The neighbors clapped and cheered as we passed. I was both mortified and proud—proud because my neighbors now knew I had a man willing to go to such lengths for me.
Inside, Daniel pulled me close, planting a kiss on my lips. His hands did things to my body that made my knees weak. Before I could resist, I was melting in his arms. He scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Before you start judging me, search deep deep inside you and honestly tell me that you will be able to resist. Be very sincere, abeg.
Afterward, as we lay in each other’s arms, Daniel asked a question I never expected:
“Damilola Coker, will you make me happy by becoming the woman who completes my life? I know it seems rushed—just a month—but I’ve seen everything I need to know. Please, say yes.”
I stared at him, stunned, for what felt like an eternity. This was what I had prayed for—someone who knew they wanted me and was ready to commit.
Tears streaming down my face, I hugged him tightly. “Yes. Yes, and yes again! I’ll marry you, Daniel Adebayo.”
Relieved, he smiled. “I don’t have a ring yet. I wanted to do this now, privately, to show how serious I am. We’ll plan a public proposal later—no surprises to risk you slapping me in public,” he joked.
I laughed, hugging him tighter. Was this real? I, Damilola Oluwabunmi Coker, unofficially engaged?
I couldn’t help but think of Yemi. How wrong he had been about Daniel. Just the thought of him almost ruined my mood. Good riddance to bad rubbish!
Daniel went to the living room, picked up the gift bag, and handed it to me. Inside was a bottle of Elizabeth Arden Red Door—my favorite fragrance. Tears welled up again as I hugged him.
Life felt like a dream. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy.