PART II: Yellow light

Weeks passed faster than I wanted. Life didn’t pause because my heart was bruised. HR reports piled up, emails about performance reviews amid office politics where colleagues whispered about layoffs like genies in bottles. 

Bills, rent reminders slipped under my door like silent threats, their edges curling in the heat. The world kept moving, indifferent to my confusion. Healing didn’t come dramatically. It came quietly, in stolen moments: better sleep without the ache of waiting, playlists revived with songs I'd sidelined because they echoed his voice. 

I was learning to live like myself again. How to be myself without flinching at my phone screen or jumping at every notification ping. Beloved and Jadesola decided to cheer me up and took me out for dinner one evening, and that was where things shifted. 

That was where I met Bamidele. He was at the next table, arguing with friends over a football match replay on their phone, his laugh cutting through the chatter like sunlight piercing storm clouds. Tall, with an easy confidence that drew the eye, he wore a simple white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, revealing forearms that flexed as he gestured passionately about Arsenal's latest flop. 

I caught myself staring when our eyes met, his dark and warm, crinkling at the corners with a smile that felt like it was just for me. "Sorry about the noise," he called over, his voice smooth and teasing. “Arsenal's defense is criminal, wanna weigh in?” I laughed, surprised, and Beloved nudged me with a grin that said go girl. 

We chatted across tables, about the match at first, his hot takes on midfield control, then life in general, the chaos of traffic, dreams deferred by economic wahala. He listened, really listened, leaning in with that undivided focus Bode had long forgotten how to give. No distracted scrolling, no half-hearted nods. 

His questions pulled details from me like threads from a loom. Beloved and Jadesola exchanged knowing glances, then Beloved faked a phone buzz. "Quick work call, Jadesola, come help me sort this," she said, winking as they wandered to the restaurant's edge, leaving us in our own little bubble. 

The world hushed around us, the clatter of plates fading. That's when he noticed me shivering in the blasting AC, goosebumps rising like whispers on my arms. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, his warmth enveloping me like an embrace, faint cologne of sandalwood lingering. 

"Can't have you freezing while I ramble," he murmured, his fingers brushing my arm, sending a flutter straight to my chest. Our eyes locked, the air thickening with something electric, unspoken promises hanging like the smoke from the grill.

Something shifted that evening. But shifts can surprise you. The story continues on Wattpad. Read what happens next here.

https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/409681630-when-the-lights-changed