Chapter 12: Old Flames, New Fires

Adelani woke up to the soft grey light filtering through her curtains, the lingering warmth of sleep still clinging to her skin. The faint scent of lavender from her pillow mixed with the crisp morning air drifting in through the slightly open window. She stretched, savoring the quiet before reality seeped in.

Then, it hit her. Last night.

Alexander's hand in hers, the effortless laughter, the way his gaze held hers like he had all the time in the world to watch her smile. The warmth of it still hummed in her chest.

And then there was Dayo.

A sigh slipped from her lips as she rolled onto her side, staring at the ceiling. How easily the past and present tangled together, like waves colliding on a shore. She had felt so light with Alexander, and yet one conversation with Dayo had anchored her back to something she thought she had left behind.

We were never really finished.

But they were. She had made sure of it.

So why did he feel like an unanswered question?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, expecting Ronke. Instead, Alexander's name flashed across the screen.

Alexander: Morning. Hope you slept well. You were smiling a lot last night; thought I should let you know.

A slow smile crept onto her lips. He noticed.

Adelani: I'll have to be more careful next time.

Alexander: Don't. I like it.

She bit her lip, a warmth unfurling in her stomach. His charm had a way of making her breath hitch, deliberate but not rehearsed. She wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

A second buzz. Another message.

Her breath caught. Dayo.

Dayo: I meant what I said, Lani. Let me know when you're ready.

She locked her phone, exhaling slowly. What did he want? Closure? A second chance? A reminder of what they had been?

She wasn't interested in rewriting the past.

But was she ready to tell him that?

The library was quieter than usual, the steady hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of pages the only sounds filling the space. Adelani moved through the motions—sorting books, assisting patrons, avoiding Mr. Holloway's lingering presence.

By lunchtime, she needed air.

She grabbed a sandwich from the café down the street, its warm scent mingling with the bitter aroma of fresh coffee as she stepped outside. She took it to her usual spot—a wooden bench near the river, shaded by drooping willows. The gentle ripple of the water, the distant laughter of children playing in the park—it was the perfect place to think.

Which was exactly why she hated that Dayo found her there.

"Predictable as ever," he said, lowering himself onto the bench beside her.

Her shoulders stiffened. "Were you following me?"

He smirked. "No. But I know you."

She unwrapped her sandwich, refusing to meet his gaze. "Then you should know I don't want to do this."

Dayo leaned back, stretching an arm along the back of the bench, his body turned toward her. "Do what?"

"Whatever this is."

He sighed. "I'm not trying to play games, Lani. I just... I needed to see you."

She took a slow, deliberate bite, chewing while the words sat between them. "So talk."

He hesitated, then exhaled. "I know you don't owe me anything. But I came back because I couldn't ignore the fact that I still care about you."

Her stomach tightened. "Dayo—"

"Let me finish," he interrupted gently. "I let you go because I thought it was what you wanted. And maybe it was. But we never really talked about it. Not properly."

She finally met his gaze. He looked the same—familiar confidence, unwavering focus—but there was something else now. Something more careful. More measured.

She hated that it still made her feel something.

"I loved you, Lani," he said, his voice quieter now. "And I know you loved me."

She closed her eyes briefly, willing the emotions away. "That doesn't mean we were right for each other."

His jaw tightened. "Maybe not. But don't we owe it to ourselves to find out?"

She shook her head. "Dayo, this isn't a movie. There's no grand reunion waiting for us."

He studied her for a long moment before leaning forward. "Is that what you're doing? Moving on?"

Her silence stretched a fraction too long.

Dayo's lips curled into a knowing smile. "You're seeing someone."

She stood up, brushing crumbs from her lap. "None of your business."

He stood too, watching her carefully. "Does he know about me?"

She turned to leave.

His voice followed her. "Does he know you, Lani?"

She didn't answer.

But the question followed her all the way home.

That evening, she did something reckless.

She texted Alexander.

Adelani: Are you free tonight?

The response came almost instantly.

Alexander: For you? Always.

She didn't think too hard about it. Just got dressed. A simple black dress—comfortable but flattering. A touch of lip gloss. And before she could overthink it, she grabbed her coat and left.

The bar Alexander chose was one of those tucked-away places only locals knew. Dim lighting, soft music, the clinking of glasses and low hum of conversation filling the space.

He was already there, waiting, effortlessly composed.

"Twice in one week," he mused as she slid into the seat across from him. "I must be doing something right."

She let out a small laugh. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Too late."

A waiter appeared, and Alexander ordered without hesitation. It should have annoyed her, but his choices—Malbec for him, a light rosé for her—were exactly what she would have picked.

She studied him as he swirled his wine, his fingers elegant against the glass. He was so different from Dayo. Where Dayo had been her past, Alexander felt like something entirely new.

And maybe that was what scared her.

"Tell me something," he said, watching her over the rim of his glass. "Why did you text me tonight?"

She hesitated, then chose honesty. "I wanted a distraction."

His lips twitched. "From what?"

She exhaled. "From someone I used to know."

A flicker of understanding crossed his face. He nodded. "Fair enough."

A silence settled—not awkward but charged. He leaned in slightly. "Should I be worried?"

"About what?"

He smirked. "Your someone."

She studied him for a long moment. Then, quietly, she said, "No."

Something in his expression shifted satisfaction, maybe. Or something deeper.

"Good," he murmured.

And just for tonight, she let herself forget the past.