The Man With The Dashing Back
The Man With The Dashing Back
The Man With The Dashing Back
A Novel Written by
Nightengale Ben-Onyeukwu
Dedicated to all the genuine lovers out there.
Acknowledgement
With much love to Crowned Prince Ifeanyi Chinemeonyeukwu Francis Edward Moses Nwosu Nwokororie, the encourager who pushed me on during my moments of exhaustion. May he always find happiness and the sweetness of love throughout his life.
Thanks to my parents, Rev. Professor Ben-Onyeukwu and Rev. Mrs. Joy Ben-Onyeukwu, for their constant encouragement. A huge thanks to my siblings and loved ones—I pray you never lack genuine love.
Author's Note
Dear readers,
The Man With The Dashing Back is a story close to my heart, a journey through love, betrayal, and the power of unspoken truths. In the quiet moments of our lives, we often find ourselves caught between the past and the future, between trust and doubt. This is the story of Stella and Peter, two souls who, though connected by the threads of friendship and fate, must face the challenges of love in its most complicated form.
As you turn the pages, you will walk with Stella through moments of confusion, anger, and passion. You will witness how secrets, when revealed, can either break or heal the heart. Through Peter's silence, his mistakes, and his love, you'll understand that sometimes the greatest battles are fought not with fists, but with the heart.
I invite you to journey through this story of heartache, growth, and hope. Will love survive the pain of lies, or will it be lost forever? Join Stella and Peter as they try to find forgiveness and trust, and see if a love that has been broken can heal.
With love and gratitude,
Author
Chapter One
The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, bathing the room in soft golden rays. Stella's eyes fluttered open, a smile already forming on her lips as she stretched luxuriously in bed. Today was the Monday she had been anticipating. Her heart quickened as she glanced at the calendar pinned to the wall, where January 15, 2024, was circled in bold red ink.
'This is it,' she whispered to herself, admiring the January morning sun streaming through her open window. She sat up, the cool air brushing her cheeks as if nudging her forward. Today was the first day of her new job at Mars Corporation, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this year was going to be different—better, even. She felt as if something fresh and loving were opening to her.
After a quick prayer, she hopped out of bed and hurried through her morning routine, her mind already racing ahead to what awaited her. As she brushed her teeth, her eyes kept drifting to her phone on the bathroom counter. The email was still open, the subject line bright on the screen: Offer Letter: Personal Secretary to the CEO of Mars Corporation.
She paused, toothbrush mid-air, her eyes lingering on those words. Personal Secretary to the CEO. She had applied for a simple finance role, hoping to get her foot in the door, but this? It was beyond her wildest dreams.
Why me? she wondered, a small frown creasing her forehead. Doubt gnawed at her. What if I'm not good enough? What if I fail to impress the CEO? What if I don't fit in?
She took a deep breath, pushing her anxieties aside. Don't overthink it, Stella, she reminded herself. This is your moment. Everything happens for a reason. This opportunity is for my good.
With a grin spreading across her face, she hurried to her wardrobe, pulling out a neatly pressed pink blouse and a black pencil skirt. The sight of her reflection in the mirror, a young woman with bright eyes and hopes shining like stars, made her pause. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and whispered, 'This year is mine.'
Stella's apartment was located in a quiet area of Abuja, where city life mixed with peaceful living. It was a simple one-bedroom flat on the third floor of a building with faded cream paint. The stairs were clean but a bit worn out, with some chipped tiles and a light smell of dust.
Inside, her apartment was neat and cosy. The living room had a brown sofa with colourful pillows, and in front of it, a small wooden centre table with a few books, newspapers and magazines. A small TV sat in the corner, though she rarely watched it, preferring quiet or soft music.
In the dining area, which was part of the living room, a round wooden table with two chairs was placed by the window. The morning sunlight brightened up the space, and there was usually a bowl of fresh fruit on the table, something she learned from her mother to stay healthy.
The kitchen, though small, had everything she needed: brown cabinets that were a bit old but still worked fine. The countertop held basic appliances like a kettle, toaster, and microwave. Stella enjoyed simple cooking, so the shelves had spices, pasta, and canned goods, with pots and pans hanging neatly above the sink.
Her bedroom was her personal space, painted in soft cream. The queen-sized bed had light pink sheets and a floral duvet. On the bedside table was a photo of her parents and a lamp for her night reading. The small wardrobe was organised with her office clothes and casual outfits.
The bathroom was plain but clean, with white tiles, a small shower, and a few toiletries neatly arranged. Stella added a floral shower curtain and a couple of small plants to make it feel more fresh and welcoming.
As Stella gathered her things and prepared to leave, she couldn't help but pause for a moment by the window. From her third-floor view, she could see the city coming to life below: vendors setting up their stalls, the early rush of traffic, and the distant murmur of people starting their day. A small smile tugged at her lips. Today marks the beginning of something new, she thought.
She grabbed a handful of fruit from the fruit bowl on her dining table, an apple, a banana, and a few grapes, and quickly made her way out. As she hurried down the stairs, she took a bite of the apple, savouring its crisp sweetness. The rest of the fruits went into her bag, a quick snack for later in the day.
***