Yooooo!

What's up, fam?

I planned to update in the morning but I was super busy. I'm here now, and🌚 I'll advice you to stop at the nearest mall to get a box of Kleenex. You might need it.😌

But, if you insist that you have it under control. Then, it's fine. But, just know I won't be giving you out of my own.🌚

Okayyy! Moving on.

The song for this chapter is- Ghost by Justin Bieber. Yeah, I know. We have used it before but it doesn't hurt to repeat it, right?🌚 Now, by all means, please, dive in.

________________𖧷_______________

"𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙
𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒
𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑."

_________________𖧷_____________

               ~𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙺𝙸𝚁𝙰 𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙺~

I twirled in front of the mirror, raking my eyes through the reflection that was displayed in the mirror. My red manicured fingers moved over the neon green material, smoothening the non-existence crease on it, that my eyes seemed to have convinced me was there.

The long-sleeved dress was…beautiful.

Yeah, beautiful.

I arched a brow at the dress, staring intently at how it made me look. My eyes inspected every nook and cranny of the dress through the mirror and then, I realized something. It was too bright. It wasn't giving me the vibe I wanted. It seemed like something I'd wear to a birthday party.

Ugh!

This was the fifth time I was changing.

I hissed and huffed. My hands came around the hem of the dress and I pulled it off, moving over to the bed to pick up the last one. I wore the cloth and walked to the mirror, assessing myself.

An impressive smile made its way to my lips.

It was stylish and so simple.

A blush pink crop top that had bell sleeves attached to it at the area on my arm that linked to my bust. It looked like there was a string that held the mid-area together, forming a ruch. Then, matching Palazzo pants that had a knot formed around the waist. The outfit was cute.

Shakira's outfit.🌚😌🔥♥️

I giggled like a two-year-old and let my braids down from their bun, running my hands through its tangled knots. I grabbed my edge control and laid my edges, adding a little balm onto my lips for moisture. I clipped on the pair of studs I had picked out on the table earlier, pairing it with a silver necklace. 

I sprayed my perfume on the sides of my neck and my wrists then smiled at my reflection. I picked up my black Hermes bag that was on the dresser and double-check the books I had stuffed in it earlier. I noticed my pen was missing and I exhaled, walking to my dresser and pulling the drawers open. 

I groaned when I couldn't find any in the first compartment. And then, I pulled the second one open and froze at the sight of the small Barbie doll that was staring right back at me, I veered backwards. I plopped down the stool automatically, absolutely dazed and terrified. I sealed the drawer shut and released a shaky breath.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried my hardest to control my erratic breathing. I puffed out some air and blinked, sniffing to rein my tears in. I stood up from the stool, not wanting to come in contact with the drawer. Then, I grabbed my bag and slid my feet into my slippers, practically dashing out of the room.

A relieving sigh escaped me once I set foot into the hallway. I closed the door to my room and moved so slowly, descending the stairs like a snail. My mind was plagued with so many thoughts, thoughts I thought I had managed to shove deep into my mind and bolted the door on, threatening to waltz back onto the surface.

I wasn't going to allow it.

I wasn't going to allow it.

I couldn't.

I should not.

I didn't even know I had stepped into the living room until my eyes dropped to the familiar figure that had her head thrown backwards on the headrest with her eyes closed. I furrowed my brows in confusion and approached her.

"Mommy?" I called, gently. Her eyes flew open and she pushed herself off the leather sofa, her gaze settling on me. If it wasn't for the support the chair beside me had to offer, I would have been completely thrown off balance at the sight of my mother.

My jaw was nearly dropping to the floor.

I couldn't remember the last time I saw my mother without makeup. I tried to rack my brain for a specific time but nothing was coming up and I gave up. She looked different. So different. Her brown eyes looked so dull, accompanied by reddish sclera and bags under her eyes. I didn't fail to notice how flawless her face looked even though she looked like…she had been crying?

No, that wasn't possible.

I looked at my mother and I didn't see Ameera Malik. I saw a different woman. A woman I wasn't even sure I knew. Her black straight weave looked a little out of place but it was nothing a comb wouldn't fix.

She was clad in a flower print chiffon dress. She wasn't dressed in her usual pants suit and her face wasn't caked in her overly intimidating makeup. I dare say she looked like a regular mom.

I felt my heart constrict in pain when I opened my mouth to utter a word. I snapped my mouth shut and took a deep breath.

"Niniola," She called me. I didn't say a word. I just stared at her.

"Where are you going? I thought you were sleeping upstairs." She added. Her voice was croaked, barely audible and lacked the usual confidence and audaciousness it normally held. 

I was baffled.

She watched me through her tired eyes. My brows knotted in what I presumed to be...worry and my eyes softened a little, my stomach churning in sadness.

"A friend's place for a school assignment," I answered her, my eyes still trained on her tall frame. She nodded her head and sunk into the sofa, an exhaustive sigh escaped her lips.

"Mommy," I called in a whisper and her eyes darted over to mine, holding my gaze, so patiently.

"Is.." I paused, the words felt so heavy in my mouth. I swallowed a lump, taking a deep breath.

"Is everything okay?" I asked in a rush. She stared at me for a moment and nodded slowly.

"Why are you home? Aren't you supposed to be on a business trip?" I bombarded her with questions and I heard her sigh in irritation.

"Niniola, I came back early. Is that a problem?" She queried with a hint of sass in her tone, without looking at me. Of course. I rolled my eyes. Here I was, thinking they swapped my mother. 

"You should go upstairs and sleep if you are tired. The sofa will only give you neck and back cramps,"

"Not like I care. I'm just saying." That was the last thing I said to her and I sauntered out of the house.

                                        •••••

This was my second time here,  at Stefan's house. And this time around, I left no stone unturned. I never really had the time to notice even the slightest detail about his place the last time I came here. I had far more important things I was worried about.

Or you were too busy being a big bitch?

Not now, please.

I had to say this. It was a fine-ass duplex that had the most intricate designs I had ever seen. I couldn't stop gawking the minute I stepped into the compound. It felt as though it was the first time I was setting foot in this place. If the exterior was this beautiful, I couldn't wait to properly take in the beauty of the interior.

I rang the doorbell twice and waited for a response, shifting my weight on my other foot. The door creaked softly, revealing a lady that looked like she was in her mid-twenties, her eyes crinkled with softness, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"Good evening. I'm here to see Stefan." I supplied and she nodded her head, moving aside so I could step in. A blast of cold air that I knew belonged to the air-conditioning system hit me immediately after I set foot in. My mouth went slightly ajar against my will, and my feet suddenly glued to a spot.

What was surprising was the fact that I never paid attention to the beauty of the place the first time I came here. What was I thinking of? If I had, maybe I wouldn't be this shocked.

When I finally found the will to move my feet, my eyes wouldn't stop wandering around the massive living room that was dominated by three colours, a blend I never knew could look this good. Light grey, light brown and white.

Who designed this house?!

On G, I fought the urge to sink my butt into the beige sofas that were arranged in a circular shape in the living room. They looked so inviting, with the matching throw pillows neatly arranged. I could literally see my reflection on the walls of this house. It was so neat, without the slightest speck of dust.

Beautiful abstract and representational paintings adorned the walls, coupled with family portraits and the tall flower pots that were placed at each corner of the room.

The interior decor wasn't all in one's face and at the same time, you'd know that every little thing in this room didn't come cheap. It was so subtle yet distinctly beautiful.

I was so impressed.

"Hello, sweetheart," The soft, silvery disembodied voice pierced through my thoughts so gently, invading them the way water flowed ever so slowly into a stream without stress. 

I turned around and my eyes zeroed in on the lady that emerged from an open door that led to a place my brain couldn't even comprehend right now. She had an angelic smile plastered on her face as she walked over to me, taking dainty steps.

The light pink cotton long-sleeved shirt she wore over dark blue Aphrodite jeans was almost swallowing her petite frame. The large top was beautifully designed with ruches at the sides, forming an O shape. It was a packing shirt but more feminine, with large puff sleeves. On her small feet were cute pink slides that reminded me of Chizaram's obsession with slides.

Her lush black straight weave looked like it cost a fortune. They were left unpacked, cascading down her shoulders. The soft, woody caramel smell I knew was that of her cologne, greeted me before she could say one more word. 

"You must be Shakira." Ardent brown eyes that I could swear were almost as clear as glass, twinkled and gleamed with warmth as she took me in with eyes that spoke so softly to me. Eyes that reminded me of a certain grey-eyed boy.

She carried with her this unmistakable warm aura that was so familiar. And then, it hit me. I was staring right back at Stefan's mom. A small gasp escaped my lips and I blinked severally, unable to piece anything together. 

Saying Mrs Oluyide was beautiful was an understatement of the year. I just stood there, staring at her like she just fell from the sky. I was stunned. I was dazed. I mean, colour me shocked.

I was looking like an absolute mumu.

"Good evening, ma." I greeted, once I managed to pull myself together and break out of my mini-trance, my voice was still filled with uncertainty.

But then, I shouldn't be too surprised. After all, a woman that looked like she didn't age a day over twenty-five gave birth to me.

"I__

Before I could say, Jack Robinson, she drew me in for a warm hug. Her sweet smell that made me a little dizzy wafted into my nostrils as I eased into the embrace, wrapping my arms around her small frame.

She was so warm.

She let me go after a while, giving me a chance to ogle at her beautiful light skin. She stared back at me with a smile that didn't falter for a nanosecond. Now, I know where Stefan got it from. She smiled effortlessly and still looked so stunning while at it. 

"Come on, come on, have your seat."  She urged me, chuckling softly. I smiled at her in appreciation and took my seat on the nearest sofa, my eyes wandering around the house in awe.

"Bibi!" She hollered.

"Bibitayo, I know you are up there." Her voice was so loud.

"Mom, I don't want to talk to you!" Came his response. He sounded like an overgrown baby, obviously sulking about something that wasn't clear to me. I erupted into a fit of giggles. I couldn't hold it to myself.

"And for the nth time, I don't want the cookies anymore." He told her off. The laughter I was trying so hard to repress came tumbling out of my mouth. I was strewn against the sofa, my head thrown back as my shoulders quaked heavily with uncontrollable laughter.

The older woman chuckled.

"You consume too much sugar," She said more to her hearing.

"Get down here and stop sulking like you are five. Shakira is here." After she said that, We didn't hear anything from him anymore. It was so silent. I needed no one to tell me that he was probably dying of embarrassment wherever he was hiding, sulking earlier.

I was grinning from ear to ear.

I was going to taunt him to the end of the world with this.

First to do no dey pain.

I couldn't fight the smirk tugging at my lips. I have always wanted a comeback for the 'Reina' he calls me and now, I have one. 

His tall figure emerged, descending the stairs so slowly with his hand at the back of his neck, massaging his nape. He had the other hand tucked in the pocket of his black shorts that gave off his lean legs. On his feet were a pair of black Yeezy slides.

An embarrassing smile made its way to his lips.

"Mom," He whined and the petite woman snorted, her eyes moving over to me.

"You are so beautiful. His words didn't do justice." She cooed and I turned crimson, smiling shyly at her.

"Bibitayo won't stop talking about you," Those words had my head whipping in his direction with a deadly speed, I couldn't fathom why I felt butterflies erupt in the pit of my stomach as it twisted into beautiful knots.

"Mom!" He called sharply. He had a playful frown etched on his face. My eyes didn't leave his face as he looked everywhere but in my direction. He was…embarrassed. I found it so cute.

"You two have fun. If you need anything, let me know." Then, she turned to meet me.

"It's so good to see you, Shakira. You have no idea how long I have wanted to meet you one-on-one." She told me with a warm smile and I reciprocated her actions. Her amused eyes shifted between us before she turned on her heels and left, leaving us alone.

"Reina," He called subtly, his honey-coated voice waltzing into my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. I averted my gaze off his mom's receding frame, whisking my head in his direction. I allowed my eyes to settle on his frame, sizing him up a little.

He had a tiny smirk on his lips as he approached me.

I grinned cheekily.

"I didn't know you'd be here early. You have a habit of being fashionably late." He rolled his eyes, making air quotes.

"Hi, Bibitayo. Wait, is it Bibsss or don't worry, I'll stick to Bibs. You know the one they put around babies' necks when you want to feed them. Oh, it's perfect!" I cried out, clasping my arms.

"We are even now," I told him, flipping my braids in a sassy manner.

He plopped down on the sofa, dropping his arm on the headrest and he shrugged casually with a smile. That was all it took for the wide smile on my face to wipe off, morphing into a frown.

"No matter," He spoke before I could open my mouth.

"You can call me Bibi all you want. I don't mind. It sounds good coming from you but, you can't deny the fact that Reina riles you up more than Bibi does me." He snickered. I grabbed a throw pillow and hauled it at him, eliciting breathy laughter from him.

"You see this nickname deals? Leave am for me, Na boss I be!" He told me, shrugging his shoulders and wiping imaginary dust off them.

He was right and I Hated It.

I hissed loudly, short of a comeback.

"Whatever!" I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, let's go upstairs." He offered and I huffed, getting off the sofa. I arched a brow at him while I waited for him to stand up. He stuck out his tongue at me, and stood up from his seat, leading me upstairs.

                                         •••••

I wasn't a fan of libraries.

The idea of staying cooped up in a place, stuffing my face with books just doesn't appeal to me. I found it inconvenient. But, the sight in front of me had me taking my words back. Rich beige walls stared back at me with several abstract paintings adorning the wall, producing a beautiful blend.

The space in here wasn't too vast but it'd tick my list of the cutest library I had ever seen. The other end of the room was made with beautiful see-through glass and an inbuilt white sofa that beheld the breathtaking view of the entire estate. The mahogany shelves were as dark as charcoal, housing several books and were stacked to the brim.

In the middle of the room was a circular wooden table that looked too artistic to be true, surrounded by colourful bean bags. There was another set of wooden furniture; A table and two chairs. On the table were a beautiful hourglass and a mini picture frame.

"I take it that you are impressed?" His voice was low, coming from my back. My cheeks turned crimson, a smile spreading across my face.

"I am!" I exclaimed.

"Who designed this library?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. That resulted in a rich breathy chuckle from him.

"My mom," His voice was warm, filled with pride and adoration for the older woman. 

"Trust me when I tell you that each time I set foot into this place, I still can't get over how beautiful it looks." He divulged and I giggled.

"You should see the view at night, Reina." He went further. He walked past me, moving over to the third shelf. He picked out some textbooks and set them on the table, causing them to sound with a thud.

I scowled at him.

I settled into the comfy wooden seat and set my bag on the table. My hand brushed the cute picture frame that was carved in an oval shape, a warm smile overtaking my facial features. I picked it up gently, assessing the picture. 

It was his mom and his dad.

The light-skinned woman had her head thrown backwards in laughter, the strong arms of her husband held her in place while he watched her with this light smile on his face. They were so adorable that they nearly brought tears to my eyes.

This is exactly what you get when you find the one.

"You look like your dad. A lot." I commented, smiling at the picture. I looked up only to find him staring at me with a warm smile on his face. 

"I get that a lot." He answered.

"Oh, wipe that smug look on your face. He's way finer than you." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Ahn, ahn," He waggled his eyebrows at me with a silly smile dancing on his face.

"So, you agree that I'm a fine boy?" A smug smirk was tugging at his lips. His grey eyes scanned my face, appearing thoroughly amused and I scrunch my face in a frown, making fake gag sounds.

"Ewww!" I cried.

Cocky thing.

"I didn't even say that. A frog is way finer than you." I frowned, folding my arms across my chest. He propped his face between his elbow, an annoying grin marrying his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief, glowing without having to do a thing under the bright lights that augmented his flawless caramel skin.

His skin reminded me of peanut butter. Smooth, rich and dripping hardcore Gold.

"So, I have seen your mom. You only have her eyes. I'm so sure you look like your dad. Correct me if I'm wrong." He told me, the words spluttering out of his mouth so casually as he flipped the pages of the textbook in front of me.

I stilled.

My blood ran cold.

My brain went on a shutdown on its own. My eyes were just fixed ahead with my mind in an entirely different place. I just sat there, frozen, with a dead look on my face, struggling with the thoughts that wanted so desperately to claw their way out of where I had buried them.

In a deep, deep, dark, dark place.

Talking about Nasir Adebola Malik meant thinking about him.

I didn't want to talk about him.

I didn't want to think about him.

Those two things meant uncontrollable waterworks and I didn't want that.

But then, life just has a way of screwing us over, doesn't it? Giving us lemons and expecting us to make lemonades out of them. We tend to get the opposite of what we bargained for. It just had to be a bitch. Like. Every. Other. Time.

The flipping of the pages that was starting to sound so far away came to an abrupt halt. He must have sensed how quiet and overly cold I had gotten as I had just been drenched in a bowl of water that was extracted from the Southern Ocean.

I blinked, snapping out of my haze.

Then, I chuckled softly. More like a burst of airy laughter.

My eyes slowly averted themselves from the beige walls, moving over to where he sat, opposite me. Those grey eyes that were once filled with warmth, unending smiles and utter softness now looked like they had lost their colour, locking with mine and filled with shock. They beheld mine, with his mouth slightly ajar.

I chuckled, waving it off dismissively.

"My dad's late," I told him.

My eyes left his, dropping to the table. The sudden wave of dizziness that hit me afterwards, I might have been prepared for anything else but not this. And then, it hit me. A light gasp escaped my lips, disbelief engulfing me, wanting to consume me.

I haven't uttered those words in years.

How I managed to shove the thought of it at the back of my mind and bolted the door on it was what I didn't understand. It suddenly felt twice as cold here. My heart constricted in an agonizing pain that almost had me wanting to rip my heart out of my chest, smashing it right into pieces because I couldn't handle this pain.

That awful thought that you have tried so hard to block out and then just one thought of it and they come rushing back in like water gushing out of a tap, hurting like a bitch!

"I__" His quiet voice drove me out of my thoughts and I turned to him, holding his gaze. His eyes were so dim, the brightness in them washed away and morphed into guilt.

I chuckled.

"I didn't mean to. Christ! I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Reina. I didn't mean to open old wounds. I'm so sorry." He rapped out all-in-one breathing. I giggled softly, teary-eyed.

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't know anything and there's nothing to feel guilty about." I told him, my voice quivering, filled with assurance. I looked heavenward, desperate not to let a tear drop even though I was failing miserably at it.

It's been so long!

It's been seven years!

Why should it still hurt this much?

Why!

Why!

Why!

I could feel the last shred of sanity I was holding onto, slipping out of me and I couldn't do anything about it. And against my will, I found myself opening up about it, even more.

"He died in an accident on my tenth birthday." I divulged, not sparing so much as a glance in his direction. I didn't want to look at him.

He didn't say a word.

And slowly, I felt his hand brush mine. He paused, seemingly hesitant, I heard him breathe out slowly before placing his hands over mine, so gently, clasping them softly. Almost like he was assuring me that he was here to listen to every word I was going to say.

I let out a quivering breath, chuckling softly.

You can't cry.

You shouldn't cry.

Don't fucking cry!

The corner of my eyes burned so badly like they were on fire, brimming with unshed tears. I breathed out, closing my mouth afterwards. My chest constricted in pain. I was struggling so hard not to let a teardrop. 

"It's okay to cry, Reina." He uttered softly.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized.

"We should be studying. We shouldn't be talking about this." I told him, shaking my head sideways. My vision had gotten so blurry that I could barely make out a thing. I cussed internally and pulled my hands out of his, getting up abruptly. I walked away from him.

Fucking tears!

I brought my hands to my face, fanning myself lightly while puffing out some air.

I didn't want him to see me like this. I didn't want him to think I was vulnerable, broken even. I wasn't weak and he shouldn't have to see me like this. I didn't want it!

"Please, don't come close," I told him, looking up to meet his eyes. He got up from his seat, exhaling softly. He started approaching me, taking slow cautious steps, conveniently ignoring what I just told him.

I wrapped my arms around myself and a shaky breath escaped me. He paused, halting in his tracks once he was just two feet away from me and a conflicted look married his features.

"I said, DO NOT COME CLOSE TO ME!" I bellowed harshly at him, my glossy eyes narrowing in slits at his tall figure. A soft sigh escaped his lips and he closed the space between us, gathering me in his arms. I welcomed the body contact immediately and then, I broke down.

I lost my dad.

I lost my best friend!

He was gone and he was never coming back!

I wasn't going to see him again.

I was never going to see him again. 

The thought of it overwhelmed me, settling into my system and I swear, it was so hard to digest. It had me bawling my eyes out in his arms like a baby, sobbing profusely and uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered into my ears, rubbing my back soothingly.

I sniffed.

"It left me wondering all these years, just thinking that maybe, just maybe, if he were alive, things would have gone differently than they did. It wouldn't come to total ruin," I began, sniffing through my occasional hiccups.

"I didn't get to tell him goodbye, Stefan. Do you know how much that hurts and haunts me to date? The last thing I remembered was throwing a tantrum about him not going to be present at my birthday party," I paused with a hiccup, burying my face in the hollow of his neck.

"I threw a fit and locked myself away in the room. I refused to talk to him. He tried to apologize before going on his business trip but I was just too stubborn to listen to him,"

"That was the last memory I had of him!"

"I didn't get to say goodbye to my champ!"

"I should have listened to him when he tried to apologize. I should have opened the door and talked to him but I didn't. My champ left me and he never came back. Stefan, he promised me he was going to get me more Barbie dolls on his way back." I sobbed, hitting his chest with my tiny fists.

I burst into another round of tears, soaking his shirt with my tears that wouldn't stop pouring.

He didn't pull away even though I was hitting him furiously. He held on to me so firmly and didn't say a word. I didn't want him to say anything or try to console me that it wasn't my fault he died because IT WAS!

He died because of me.

It was all my fault!

"It wouldn't have gotten this bad if he were, Stefan." I shook my head.

"I loathe myself so much that I can barely even stand the sight of myself in the mirror! I SHOULD have convinced him to stay. I should have opened that door and begged him not to leave. I should have held on to him so tight and never let him go. I should have opened that door and said goodbye to my champ!" My voice had reduced to a hoarse from the shouting and yelling.

"I didn't get to make enough memories with him. I have so many things I want to tell him. I have so many things I want to say to him. I have so many questions I'm dying to ask him. I just want to see him one more time, Stefan." I cried.

"I still want to cuddle with him while we watch my favourite show together in the living room. I still want him to chase me around the house, yelling at me to come to get dressed for school. I still want to be the first person to meet him halfway when he gets back from work,"

"I still want to do all my favourite things with him."

"I just want my dad back, Stefan."

"I miss him,"

"I lost my other half the day he died. A part of me that I'm never going to get back. It died with him."

"I don't want to be like this anymore,"

"So empty, soulless and half-dead."

"I'm tired, Stefan."

"I can't do this anymore." I hiccuped, sniffing loudly. I was too tired to even say one more word. I had nothing left to stay. I just stood there in his arms, my loud hiccups resonating in the entire room. 

His hands moved up and down my back in a soft caress. I detached my head from his chest, my eyes widening slightly at the huge blotch my tears left on his chest. 

I sniffed.

"I'm so sorry. I ruined your shirt." I whispered, wanting to get out of his arms and find a hole to crawl into when it dawned on me that he just watched me bawl my eyes out like a Banshee. 

It was so embarrassing. Like he could sense what I was about to do, his palm rested gently on my bare back, holding me in my place while I tried to ignore the zap of electricity that shot through my spine.

I nibbled on my lower lip, not sparing him a glance.

His fingers grazed my jaw and I shivered underneath his touch. Then, he tilted my gaze to meet his. His glossy eyes left me stunned as they beheld mine, looking almost like a mirror.

It was legit the most beautiful thing I had seen today. His grey eyes shone brightly with unshed tears that didn't in any way dim the beauty those hypnotic orbs possessed. His eyes were so full of unshed tears yet, he had a full-blown smile on his lips.

I have seen him smile but it was never like this. They swirled with a mixture of raw adoration, pride and other emotions I knew and didn't. The ones I could comprehend and couldn't.

A contrast of emotions has never looked this beautiful.

"As long as it's you, Queen, you can ruin all my shirts. I don't mind." He whispered, gazing at me with eyes that glowed with tenderness.

I choked on my sobs and snapped my mouth shut, clamping my palm over my mouth. I was tongue-tied. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to respond.

"Stefan," I croaked.

"Don't say anything." He told me, smiling at me. Then, his lips dropped to my forehead, pressing against it in a soft, lingering kiss which elicited a soft gasp from me.

I sucked in a breath and my eyes snapped shut while I tried to savour the feeling of his lips against my forehead.

This was enough.

A/N

Wow...

Le sigh.

Anyways, this is to us who have lost someone.🥂 I know there's nothing that can fill the voids they have left in our heart and when they tell us that we have to get over it, it's even harder.

This is to tell you that if you have to cry a thousand times to let it all out, please do. It's therapeutic. Trust me, you'll feel better after doing that. It helps. And also, please know that they are in a good place now and they are watching over us and can not be more prouder of us than they are.

It's not all going to go away at the snap of our fingers but the only thing I can tell you is that it gets better. It does.♥️

Do tell me whatever it is you think of this chapter in the comments section. I'll be waiting. As always.✨

Also, I felt like I needed to show you guys a visual representation of Shakira's mom. To aid your imaginations better. So, here it is;

Meet, Ameera Eniola Malik. The acting CEO of Ove Oil. That one woman who's also thriving in the hospitality sector.😌♥️🔥 Isn't she such a sight?🥺

P.S- I do not own the image. All credits goes to the Celebrity in the picture, on IG.

Adiós ✨

Love, Didi.♥️