February 14, 2020.

Le Food Court, Lagos, Nigeria.

My attention went from Lara to the white man standing before me. His skin was pale, cheeks dotted with freckles. His lips slightly red and his figure seemed frail to me. Yet, he held his head up like he was the one with more power amongst the three of us.

  "I do," I told him stiffly, pulling out my phone—it hadn't broken—and tapping on the screen to search for my table number. When I found it, I held it up to his face. "Table number 112."

  After scanning the screen with a pair of squinted eyes, he leaned back, and raised his nose in the air. "Our finest table." He moved aside. "Right this way sir."

  He led us to our table, and after a small "thank you" from Lara, he was on his way, leaving behind a promise to send our waiter. I shifted in my seat and grabbed a menu but it was snatched out of my hands before I could even read it.

  "What?" I questioned Lara.

  "Why were you unnecessarily rude to the man?"

  I laughed sarcastically. "He was being unnecessarily rude to me. I don't like him."

  "Since when don't you like people? I thought you were a people person." She raised her shoulders.

  I leaned forward. "I am, I just don't like him."

  "Really?"

  "Drop it."

  "Whatever," she gave in, opening my menu and reading through it. With an exhale, I grabbed hers and took a look.

  "There's no soup on the menu," she suddenly complained, slapping her menu back on the table. "Why is there no soup on the menu, aren't these people supposed to serve everything?"

  I laughed, putting my own menu down. "This is a French restaurant babe, you don't expect them to serve all the Nigerian dishes."

  Lara didn't want to hear it. Even when the waiter arrived, she complained about the lack of Ewedu on the menu. All I could do was sit back, watch and laugh at the waiter's flustered expression.

  Eventually, after the long banter, she settled for rice and cooked peas because it was the food that was most closest to home.

  At one point, I finished my dinner and was watching her play with her peas. She dropped the from onto the plate, unbothered about the clank sound it made, and huffed.

  "I want some real food."

  I couldn't hold back m laughter, and it earned me some glares from the neighboring tables. "I thought you loved this place."

  "I did, but that was before I knew they had literally nothing on the menu," she hissed.

  I shook my head at her. "It's okay, we could stop by another restaurant on our way home."

  "I can't wait," she replied and pushed her plate away. She intertwined her fingers on the table and put her chin there, staring straight at me.

  It got creepy when she didn't stop a few moments later. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

  She blinked slowly, leaning her head to the side. "I'm the lucky one, not you."

  I smiled despite myself.

  We were both lucky, but I was luckier. I'd practically been nothing before I met Lara. Nothing was working, nothing was going right. I'd just lost my girlfriend and I didn't think I was ever going to truly live again.

  But then I met her, and everything changed. She actually gave me something to look forward to, something to put hope in. She gave me another chance.

  My gaze drifted down, to our engagement ring around her finger, and my smile widened.

  We were going to get married soon, everything was going to be perfect, my life couldn't get any better. I mean, what else could I possibly want?

  "I'm luckier, and we both know it."

  Lara smiled, but didn't bother to argue. Instead, she lifted her head up and leaned towards me.

  "I have something for you." She bit her lip and pulled out her purse, searching for something inside of it. I tried to look, but my efforts were futile. I had to wait.

  Momentarily, she pulled it out: a small box wrapped in white paper and the red ribbon from earlier designed into a beautiful bow. I collected it from her with a fallen jaw.

  "You wrapped this?"

  "Yes. I had to use a knife to cut the ribbon though." She pouted. "You won't believe how much time I spent searching for one stupid pair of scissors, and yet, I couldn't find it. And then the paper got stained, so, I had to rewrap..."

  Her words faded in my ears, I focused on the box, eager to unwrap it. I'd gotten her a present apart from this dinner but it was at home and it was way larger than this. The fact that she out all her love into this small box excited me and made my present seem like crap now.

  "Come on," she urged. "Open it already."

  I opened it, carefully, so I didn't rip off the paper or hurt the ribbons too much. In the end, I was greeted with a small black box. Eagerness bubbled through me. When I opened the box, I was met with a card. A hand made Valentine's day card.

  I pulled it out and unfolded it slowly, while Lara watched me with wide eyes. In the middle of the swirls of glitter and different shades of red, she'd scribbled something:

  I love you. I always will. Don't ever forget that.

Your love,
L.

  Three sentences. Just three sentences that melted my heart and had my eyes gathering moisture.

  I'd gotten her a car as a gift but damn did those three words made me feel like the car was worthless.

  Lara, as if sensing my emotionality, got up and walked to my side. She collected my hand and pulled me up to stand with her and then she locked her fingers behind my neck. On impulse, I slipped my hands around her waist, ignoring he fact that we were in public.

  Staring down at her I couldn't comprehend just how lucky I was to have found her. A woman who loved me despite my flaws, despite my mistakes, despite my past. And I couldn't comprehend just how much love I had for her.

  "I love you, Jacob," she proclaimed in a small whisper-like tone, staring into my eyes. "I always have, and I always will. Once we get married and grow old together, I'll love you even with your hunched back."

  I chuckled solemnly. "I love you more. I love you more than you could ever know."

  She smiled. "I know you do."

  "You just made the car I got you seem like crap, you know."

  Lara gasped. "You got me a car?"

  I winced. Shouldn't have told her that. Lara was way better at keeping secrets than I was. "I need to learn to shut up."

  "I think you need to learn to speak up more." She giggled.

  I cast a glance around, sure enough, we had all the attention on us. Some people looked happy for us, others looked like they would like to walk up to us and deliver multiple slaps.

  "We should get home," I told Lara.

  "We should," she agreed. "Let me grab my purse."

  I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. Not when lara declared she was set to go, not when we headed towards the doors and not when the cold night air hit our faces.

  However, the smile was yanked off my expression when we got to the car and we're greeted with the sight of someone leaning against its hood.

  Her dress was red as blood, just like the last one I'd seen on her, lips stained with the same red lipstick. And she was still wearing the same gold heels. Her face was made-up, just like she had been that night.

  That someone was my ex.

  My ex who was supposed to be dead.

  I froze in my tracks, halting Lara with me.

  "What's wrong, Jacob?"

  A smile stretched itself on Bukola's face. It was more sinister than lovely, and it made my skin crawl.