I left my mother's house by past eight and I was in a much better mood leaving than I was when I arrived. This wasn't just attributed to the fact that she sent me home with enough food stuff and soups to last me at least a few weeks. Rather, she had provided me with just the push that I needed to call Damilare after admitting to myself that had I sincerely missed him.

On my drive home, I mulled over what I wanted to say to him and one thing I knew that I had to do was to apologize so as soon as I got home, after taking a quick shower, I dialed his number. For some reason, suddenly, I found that I wanted nothing more than to hear his voice as I sat by my phone in anticipation.

After I dialed his number, he picked on the fourth ring, his velvety voice clear over the phone which I had put on speaker. "Damilare Coker speaking."

I smile at that, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth. "I know you didn't delete my number, so you really don't need to act like you don't know who this is." I tell him and I hear him chuckle from the other end.

"This one you called me today, am I safe?" He asks playfully.

"Yes." I say. "You are, don't worry. I'm sorry I was ignoring your calls earlier." I apologize and before I can continue he cuts me off.

"Are you finally done with your boyfriend?" He asks in a playful tone yet again, except this time with a unmistakable hint of seriousness.

"No." I tell him honestly. I think I've told enough lies to last me a lifetime so I decide to be truthful this time around unsure if I could stomach being dishonest with him. "Not yet anyway, but I missed you." I tell him.

"Ada." He calls my name after a brief pause, the conflict in his tone audible.

"Hear me out, okay? I know you said to reach out to you when I'm ready to get serious, but why can't we just be friends, at least for now. I don't want to just end my relationship for what could be, but I really like you too, so for now I want us to be friends and see where this will go from there. Please, Damilare."

There is silence on his end for sometime before he speaks again. "I understand." He says with a sigh.

"Thank you." I tell him, unable to hide my joy.

"So, where are you?" He asks.

"I'm at home. I just got back from seeing my mother on the mainland. What about you?" I ask as I adjust to a comfortable position on my bed.

"I'm out with some friends at some karaoke place." He tells me as he pulls the phone away from his ear for me to hear the music.

I laugh at the uncoordinated tune of the person singing. "Wow, that's a terrible singer right there." I tell him.

"I know right." He chuckles. "I will soon leave here before my eardrums explode." He says making me laugh.

"There's nothing I would love better than to see you sing karaoke, oh lord, that would be epic." I laugh.

"Excuse me, I will have you know that I'm a really good singer. Neyo, The Weeknd, Khalid; they haven't got nothing on me."

"Absolutely nothing." I concur in laughter.

"Thank God you know. We should come here some day." He suggests.

"That would be nice." I tell him.

"How about Thursday evening? We could hit up UrbanFest afterwards if you'd like?"

"UrbanFest?" I ask not having a clue what that is. "What's that?"

"It's this festival where people come together just to eat good food from upcoming food vendors, socialize, they do some live african performances and then they usually have a concert to close the night. I heard this year Burna Boy is coming." He tells me.

I'm surprised that I've never heard of it before but more so at the fact that Dami is the one telling me this. I never would have guessed that he attended stuff like this because to me, he came across as a high class guy, not a snob, but one who just never indulged in this type of stuff that normal Nigerians enjoy. It was actually quite refreshing to hear him speak of this so I tease him about it, "How do you of all people know about this?" I ask him incredulously.

He laughs, the sound like music to my ears. "My friends. Contrary to what you might think, I don't keep upper class snobs for friends. They enjoy normal things like normal people, and so do I."

"Hmm. Impressive. You intrigue me, Mr Coker." I say.

"Well you drive me crazy." He blurts out, making my face heat up fiercely. Thank God for melanin and the fact that he wasn't here to see me grinning stupidly. "Uh, so what are you into?" He asks to change the topic from the awkward pause we just had.

"I don't have much of a social life if I'm being honest, my job at St. Ives is quite demanding. I live with my best friend, Diana, I occasionally go and see my mom and younger sister, during the weekends...and well, in my free time, I either paint, go out with a few friends or stay at home watching tv and stuffing my face with junk." I confess and that isn't totally a lie. Some weekends I do stay at home to draw and paint -a hobby of mine, or I go out with Diana and her other friends who aren't exactly my friends.

"Hmm. How long have you been working at St. Ives?" He asks meaning no harm I'm sure, but the question immediately makes me feel uncomfortable. Guilty conscience, Nigerians would say.

"For almost a year now. But can we not talk about my job right now." I say with an audible groan that's meant to come across as playful. "Let's leave that to the weekdays." I suggest.

"Agreed." And for the rest of the night, I find myself on the phone with Damilare talking about relatable things and laughing non stop. He was very funny and very easy to talk to which made me like him all the more. Added to the fact that he was someone I actually understood. He seemed like a simple but charismatic guy who didn't have layer under layer of personalities. He was simple, easy to read, and very refreshing.

On Monday morning, as I resumed work, I found myself in a very good mood. I had only spoken to Richard once over the weekend, a short conversation during which he had told me that he would be traveling to Abuja for a conference. I wasn't in my feelings at the news as I hadn't even found myself feeling an urge to see him on those days.

As usual, when I walked into the St. Ives Tower, Tara and I had a brief conversation. She told me I was glowing and asked my secret, but I jokingly told her it was probably just the sun coming in through the clear floor to ceiling glass window that was reflecting on my skin. She laughed and I left, that was that.

As I got into the empty elevator to the executive floor, I found my mind drifting once again to Damilare and our plans for Thursday, and with that thought in mind, a wide grin came to my face. One that almost matched the one on Jess' lips as I walked in and saw her.

She had all her pearly whites on display, the contrast against her dark chocolate skin dazzling. I slowed in my steps as I approached her cautiously, my eyes squinting. "What's going on?" I asked once I was close enough.

She lifted her left hand, a loud squeal leaving her lips. My eyes widened as I stared at the beautiful diamond ring that sat on her fourth finger. "Oh my God, Jess! Congratulations!" I exclaimed as I came around the table to hug her. I was so happy for her.

Jess had been with Dare since their university days, a fact she revealed to me as we got closer when I had first started working here. She loved him very much but for a while, Jess was skeptical if marriage was in their future as he never seemed eager for it.

I had met Dare personally on a couple of occasions when he'd drop by the office to see Jess or take her out to lunch and it was obvious that he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. I was ecstatic that they were finally going to make their love publicly legal.

Jess held on to me tightly. "You'll soon start hearing the marriage rants." She said into my ear playfully.

Jess had developed a habit of ranting about her problems, both relationship and otherwise, to me and I was fine with that. She knew she could trust me to be confidential and to listen because sometimes, she really just needed to let out how she felt about somethings and then forget about it; we all had our moments.

"I'm here for it." I tell her wholeheartedly with a laugh.

We settle into our work for the day, the air light and the mood happy. Fortunately, the day seems to go by fast and with Richard not being in the office, we head home by the usual work time, no extended hours.

I find Diana curled up on the loveseat in our living room, her laptop placed conveniently on her lap as she types away.

"Hey babe." I greet as I lock the door behind me.

She doesn't look up at me. "Welcome. I'm coming let me finish this real quick." She tells me over the nonstop clacking of her keyboard.

I nod and go up to my room to clean up. Within half an hour, I've showered and dressed up so I go into the kitchen to start cooking. I'm about to begin when Diana walks in. She has a placating smile on her face and I know immediately that she wants something.

"What is it?" I ask her with an arched eyebrow.

"I may or may not have invited Chike over for dinner." She says, her face scrunched up in comical confusion as if she's actually unsure if she really did or didn't.

I shoot her a stern glare and she sighs. "Fine, I invited him over. I thought you'd like to meet him and he sure wants to meet you." She tells me.

"Today though? I had plans." My plans being, namely to stay up all night talking to Damilare. I didn't want to tell her that though, although going by that smug smile she was sporting, I'm sure she already knew. This girl didn't miss anything.

"Please, just this one night of not talking to Damilare won't kill you." She says pleadingly, her hands intertwined in front of her.

"Fine." I say with a roll of my eyes.

"Thank you!" She exclaims in glee. "He'll be here by 8:30 so let me go get dressed. He's very punctual." She tells me before running off.

I roll my eyes at this roommate of mine and then turn to the gas cooker before me. I decide to use the frozen leftover beef stew and turn it into jollof spaghetti, and then fry some fish to eat go it. Everything is done in less than thirty minutes before which Diana is through dressing up. And when I say dressing up, I mean dressing up.

The girl had on a pair of distressed jeans and a black t shirt with a band's picture on it. Her ombré weave is combed out and if she had just worn a sandal, she would look like she's ready to go out, thankfully she doesn't have that on, just a pair of black furry slides.

I look down at my black sweatpants and grey crop top and almost feel underdressed, especially as my natural hair is an all back weaving atop my head because I've been wearing wigs these past few days. But I just shrug and plate the food into white ceramic serving dishes.

Diana is arranging the serving plates and table mats on the dinning table as I bring out the food.

The doorbell then goes off and she immediately goes to answer it while I return to the kitchen. I hear their voices as he enters the house but I take my time pouring water into a jug before bringing it out. I go to drop it on the dinning table before going to join them in the living room.

"Hello." I greet. "Good evening. I'm Ada."

Chike stands up then and approaches me. He looks to be about 5'10, his skin light just as Diana had said and his frame a bit muscular. He stretches out his hand for a handshake which I take. "Good evening, Ada. I've heard so much about you. I'm Chike."

"All good things I hope." I tease him with a welcoming smile to which he nods. "You guys should come, dinner is ready." I tell them and we head to the dining area which is adjoined to the living room. As we settle in, I mentally prepare myself for a potentially awkward evening.