Chapter 4

Rachel POV

I approached him, my voice barely above a whisper as I asked, "May I sit with you?" My hands trembled and my saliva caught in my throat as I awaited his response, fearing rejection.

He lifted his head, and our eyes met for the first time. I was struck by the deep, brown hue of his eyes, reminiscent of my grandmother's vintage petticoat. His chiseled features and rare, brownish eye color made him the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on.

A hint of annoyance danced on his lips as he asked, "Do you want to sit or keep staring at me like I'm a deity?" His eyes sparkled with teasing, but I refused to back down.

Maintaining eye contact, I took a seat across from him. His expression turned neutral, and he asked, "How may I help you?" in a tone that was both casual and intriguing.

I chose my words carefully, not wanting to inadvertently offend him. "I saw what happened," I said, trying to sound empathetic.

He responded with a curt "So?" without even bothering to look at me. I could sense his anger, and I understood that it was natural to feel that way after being publicly humiliated. But did he have to take it out on me?

I stood my ground, trying to keep my tone friendly. "Sorry, but I'm just trying to be kind here. I don't think I've done anything wrong. Seeing you get slapped in front of everyone was just too much..." I paused, collecting my thoughts before continuing, "...but I think she loves you."

He scanned the restaurant, his eyes darting around as if searching for reporters or security personnel to escort me out. But then, he seemed to notice the curious glances from nearby diners, and his gaze returned to me.

A mixture of incredulity and embarrassment crossed his face as he asked, "You really think the girl I brought with me from Germany for a holiday in Nigeria – the one who slapped me because she thought I was cheating on her – loves me?" His expression was one of wounded pride, s if the slap had left a deeper stain on his ego than on his skin.

I mentally scrambled for a response, regretting my previous comment. Why did I say she loves him? The truth was, it was just a ploy to capture his attention. I didn't genuinely believe she had romantic feelings for him, but I needed an excuse to start a conversation.

My intention was to divert his focus away from the embarrassing incident and onto me. I wanted him to notice me, to engage with me, and to momentarily forget about the girl who had humiliated him. It seemed like a reasonable request, but now I wasn't so sure.

I silently chastised myself, then continued, "Yes, she loves you. A girl in love can get jealous and angry without reason sometimes." I paused, studying his reaction before asking, "But why did you cheat on her?" He didn't seem like the unfaithful type, especially not someone who would risk losing a beautiful partner like her for someone else.

He shook his head, a hint of offense in his voice. "I didn't cheat. I was planning to propose to her because I love her." He pulled out a coral box from his pocket, revealing a stunning ring. I felt a pang of sympathy for him, unexpectedly.

My mind went blank, and I struggled to find the right words. But then, in a bold, uncharacteristic move, I locked eyes with him and said, "Marry me." My voice was steady, fueled by a surge of unapologetic courage.

"Excuse me? Are you insane? You're proposing that I marry a complete stranger?" He looked at me like I was absurd, his tone implying that I was the foolish one.

I stood my ground, clarifying, "Well, you know how girls can be jealous, especially if they see the person they love with someone else." I expected him to dismiss my suggestion outright, but instead, he seemed to be considering it.

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And how exactly would marrying you accomplish that?" His skepticism was evident, yet he didn't laugh in my face or call for security, which surprised me.

"We can just have a fake marriage for six months," I suggested, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you see she's still serious about you or in love with you, we can amicably part ways without damaging your reputation as a footballer or your, ah, ladies' man image." I lifted my gaze to meet his, my heart racing with anticipation.

Inside, I was trembling with anxiety, my palms growing sweaty as I awaited his response. But to my surprise, he wasn't laughing or dismissing me. Instead, a genuine, captivating smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple on his left cheek that left me breathless.

I felt dazed, my senses overwhelmed. "Why are you smiling?" I asked, my voice laced with curiosity, as I struggled to comprehend his reaction.

"'Ladies' man,' you say? If that's what it takes to win her back, then so be it," he said with a shrug. "But I have to admit, I don't know you."

"We'll get to know each other as we communicate," I replied. "For now, let's start with introductions. I'm Rachel Jones, a 400-level nursing student at Lagos State University."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're a nurse?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

I smiled, amused by his reaction. "You seem surprised," I teased.

"I am," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I chuckled. "Well, let's say I will be 'registered nurse' in few months." He smiled again, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. How had my impulsive advice led to this unexpected conversation? It still baffled me, and I struggled to comprehend the events unfolding before me.

We chatted for hours, and surprisingly, the conversation flowed effortlessly, despite having just met. I think admitting that I had always looked up to him helped break the ice.

Before I knew it, time had slipped away. "Oh no, I forgot my friends are waiting for me at the other table. I should go," I said, feeling a pang of sadness at having to bid farewell to someone I found so intriguing.

He smiled understandingly. "No worries, we can meet again in two days' time, right? Since you mentioned you're on break... or rather, a holiday?"

I chuckled. "I wouldn't exactly call it a holiday, but yes, we can definitely meet up. Where did you have in mind?"

"We can meet here or somewhere else," he said with a smile. "Unless you have a problem getting to know my wife to be?" He raised an eyebrow, teasing me.

I laughed. "No, not at all."

He nodded. "Until then?"

I grinned mischievously. "See you soon, hubby-to-be."

He called out to me as I turned to leave. "Rachel?"

I spun back around, wondering if I'd imagined it. "Yes?"

He smiled. "What about your contact number?" I rattled it off, and he nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I floated out of the restaurant, barely containing my excitement. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, but I didn't want to disturb the elegant atmosphere.

I rushed to meet my friend, eager to share the details of my encounter. But when I saw her expression, my enthusiasm faltered, and I kept my mouth shut.

"Rachel, are you okay? You disappeared for hours, and the craziest part is that my brother left when he realized you weren't coming back anytime soon. He actually wanted to come over to that table, but I had to hold him back. Luckily, Femi was here, or I would have left you behind," my friend said, her voice laced with annoyance.

I knew her anger wouldn't last, as she would eventually want to hear about what had happened. But I decided to apologize, at least to Femi. "I'm really sorry; I got completely caught up in the conversation."

To my surprise, Femi responded graciously, "No worries, dear. We were having some interesting discussions of our own."

"Thanks so much for understanding," I said, relieved. "Can we head out now?"

"Of course, I'll drive you both home since Tom had to leave," Femi offered.

Mary and I chimed in unison, "Okay."

As we walked out, I glanced at Mary, trying to convey my apologies, but she avoided eye contact. Although I wasn't thrilled about her giving me the cold shoulder, my encounter with Aderemi had overshadowed my concern.

My mind began to wander, and doubts crept in. What was I getting myself into? Getting my ass married at 21 was crazy and daring, especially considering my parents would likely disapprove. Had I thought this through?