S_A_Akinola_8608

In the heartbeat of Lagos, where hustle meets heartache, When Love Bleeds tells the raw, unfiltered story of Mike a broke but brilliant developer with big dreams and Danika, a resilient hairstylist caught between love, obligation, and spiritual warning.

When a chance meeting by a pool sparks an unexpected connection, the two begin building a fragile romance, pieced together by shared ambition, late-night talks, and small acts of sacrifice. But love in a city like Lagos costs more than words. As financial pressures rise and Danika’s family moves in, Mike finds himself torn between being her hero and losing himself.

Then come the signs. An oracle’s cryptic warnings. Nightmares Danika can’t shake. A pregnancy filled with complications. And a loss that breaks them both. As Danika drifts into silence, Mike spirals battling depression, betrayal, and the ghosts of a love he can’t let go.

Years pass. Cities change. But some wounds don't heal with distance. When fate brings Mike back to Danika’s hospital bedside, with a child that may not be his but a love that never truly left the two must confront everything they buried. The pain. The sacrifice. The bleeding heart that still beats for each other.

Will they choose healing over escape? Redemption over regret? Or has too much already been lost?

When Love Bleeds is an emotionally rich, spiritually charged urban love story that explores the quiet heroism of staying, the weight of cultural expectations, and what it truly costs to build a future together when the world and even the spirits seem against you.

When Love Bleed

The Lagos rain came without warning that afternoon loud, wild, drenching the shop roof like thunder on a war drum. Danika stood by the door, arms crossed, watching the water bounce off the street like liquid chaos.

And today, her mind wandered back to the years before Mike.

Before someone cared enough to ask how her heart was really doing.

There were scars inside her no one saw — not from Mike, not even from her mother. They came from the years she had to carry too much, too young. The days she raised herself. The nights she cried without understanding why.

Even now, with the business stabilizing, with Mike trying, with her mother giving a little more space… she still carried grief.

Grief for the girl who had to survive without being nurtured.

In Abuja, the rain hadn't reached Mike yet, but a different kind of storm was brewing inside him.

Freelance contracts were scarce. His savings were bleeding. Even with Lance chipping in and offering temporary relief, Mike felt like he was building on sand.

He hadn't told Danika how bad it had gotten.

But because he didn't want her to worry again to carry him like a burden when she already had too many weights of her own.

He sat on his bed, phone in hand, typing a message:

"Today was rough. I'm trying not to spiral."

Danika read it with a gentle smile.

She didn't ask questions. She didn't dig.

When Mike picked up, they didn't talk much. But the sound of her humming a melody he once taught her off-key and beautiful was enough to anchor him.

Later that night, Danika wrote something in her notebook.

Not a journal. Just a loose collection of feelings.

"We're both healing from things we didn't cause. But maybe love isn't about fixing each other. Maybe it's about holding space long enough for healing to finish its work."

She closed the notebook, curled into bed, and whispered a prayer for both of them.

Meanwhile, Mike stared out the window of his small apartment, rain finally tapping at the glass.

He whispered to the night, "I'm still here."

And somewhere in Lagos, Danika whispered back though he couldn't hear her:

Unseen Battles