She walked into a rave, the largest one in the little city, packed with over a thousand people. pitch black, as the only lights visible were the moving heads from the party in different colours. Trying to find her way with her head inclined down, she caught a glimpse of pretty feet well fitted in beautiful male leather slippers. "Ah, a typical Yoruba man vibe," she muttered under her breath while raising her head to bask in all that pretty glory. She found her heart racing with excitement as she could see his beautiful hands grasping firmly at a bottle of water. "Veena!" someone exclaimed as her attention was divided in the effort to find who just called her. While failing to do so, she returned to see what pretty feet looked like. He was gone; he disappeared into the crowed. She felt bad but went about her evening, finding her friends and vibing to the Afro-fusion rendered by the DJ through the loud speakers.

While taking drinks and dancing to the music played, her friend dragged her out of the crowd to be an escort for her to the restroom. On returning, she was stopped by a random man who introduced himself, and she did the same. He complimented her and asked for her number, to which she stated that she didn't have a phone at the time. As surprised as he was, she opted to take his number instead, using her friend's phone. about to leave, he stopped her to introduce his friend: "Meet Wale, my friend." Her heart fell to the floor. It was the bottled water man—she was certain because the feet looked exactly the same and he was still with his bottled water. She simply smiled and left. Walking back to her friends, she was absolutely distraught. "They are friends, Stella." "Who are friends?" Stella asked, "The man who just spoke to me and the one with the pretty feet I told you about earlier, I'm so sad." "Wow, so what are you going to do about it?" "I don't know," Veena said. One of her male friends, overhearing the conversation, persuaded her to meet with Wale, which she did. She walked up to him and rightly asked for his number, although he was absolutely flabbergasted. At first, he looked her dead in the eyes, said, "You're very bold, I like," and went ahead to give her his number.

------------------------------------ Their first official meet-up after several conversations over the phone ------------------------------------------

"Oh my God, he looks much better in daylight, and he smelled like an angel," she said, giggling to herself. He had a blue tank top and shorts on; oh, she wouldn't dare look down, and his warm smile—hell, she knew she was about to be not just heartbroken but heart-wrecked for life. She felt a little bit sad that she didn't look her best with a skirt, sweatshirt, and slippers. Such an embarrassment," she thought to herself. He invited her in, and over two hours were spent talking about nothing and everything. The room got cooler by the second. Seeking permission to lie in his bed and get covered with the duvet, he offered to cuddle her instead if she liked, and she jumped right at the offer like a lost puppy who just got found, "knowing deep in her heart that whatever was happening between them would never last, she was ready to live in the moment.

Or was she?