The Adebayo residence gleamed like wealth personified — a vast expanse of marble floors, glass-paneled walls, and warm chandeliers that looked like floating gold. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and old money. Paintings from local and foreign artists adorned the cream walls, each one carefully chosen. A massive staircase spiraled upward like something out of a movie.
Mrs. Adebayo sat on the velvet couch, graceful yet commanding — her presence alone could silence a room. Opposite her, Xavier lounged lazily, scrolling on his phone until her voice cut through the still air.
"Son"
"Yes, Mom?" Xavier answered, easing off the sofa cushion where he'd been pretending to read.
"Do I really have to hear from outsiders that you've got yourself a girlfriend—one who works at your father's company?"
Xavier scratched the back of his head, a small, nervous movement that made him look surprisingly human. "Hmm…"
Mrs. Adebayo didn't wait. "Or is this just one of those 'play around' things?"
"Of course not. I love her. I want to make her my wife." Xavier's words were steady, sure.
Adenike, his younger sister, who'd been lounging with her phone, looked up with a grin. "Wow. Someone's being serious."
"Nike, will you stay out of this, please?" Xavier teased, but his smile betrayed delight.
Nike giggled. "Why should I? I already told Mom everything—and even showed her pictures of Golden."
"You little—" Xavier tossed a plush pillow at her and missed spectacularly; the siblings laughed like kids.
"So, Mom… what do you think of her?" Xavier asked, leaning forward.
"Golden? Hmm. I knew her mother's stance on religion and if I say I'm not concerned I'll be lying." Mrs. Adebayo's voice softened; she folded her hands. "But nobody is beyond salvation, and salvation comes one at a time. Apart from that, I see no flaw in her. I like her."
Xavier practically jumped. "Really?"
"Yes. She's your choice, and your father likes her too." Mrs. Adebayo smiled like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"I like her too! She helped me once when some street guys tried harassing me when I was coming home from church. Since then, I've admired her." Nike looked at her mother with quiet pride.
"You're the coolest little sis ever." He hugged Adenike, who squealed and shoved him away.
"Get off me!" she laughed, and they chased each other with pillows until Mrs. Adebayo called them back to civility.
Outside, the compound's manicured lawn glowed in the soft evening light, while inside, laughter drifted through the rooms like music. The Adebayos were the picture of warmth—playful banter, easy smiles, and the kind of closeness that came naturally. It was a home filled with comfort, love, and the gentle hum of a family at peace.
⸻
The sun streamed through the large windows of the building. The open workspace buzzed with chatter — keyboards clacking, coffee steaming, and whispers following Golden wherever she went.
She felt the eyes on her — the curious, envious, judgmental. Especially Favour's.
Favour sat across the room, pretending to type but glaring at Golden like she was allergic to her presence.
Since the fight weeks ago, neither of them had spoken. They avoided each other like parallel lines — close but never touching. Still, the tension hung heavy, unseen but alive.
Then came the meeting.
INT. CONFERENCE ROOM
Everyone settled around the table. The manager, stood at the front, glasses perched low.
He cleared his throat and clicked the remote; the projector came alive. "We need a compact team for the new client pitch," he said, looking over the room. "Golden, I want you to lead. Favor, I'll pair you with—"
Favor cut him off before he finished, voice sharp. "No, Sir. I'd rather work with someone else."
A low ripple moved through the staff. Chima blinked. A few colleagues exchanged surprised looks. Golden's jaw tightened; she kept her expression neutral.
"Why not?" the manager asked, eyebrows lifting.
Favor's reply was icy. "I don't want to work with her." The sentence landed like a stone.
"Favor—" Chima started, but the manager held up a hand. "Chima, step in with Golden. Favor, you'll take Mr. Okoye on the other stream."
Favor's face flushed, anger and humiliation mixing. She shot Golden a look that promised repayment.
The meeting continued, though the tension buzzed louder than any conversation. The staff hummed, papers shuffled — but now the air said something else: a leadership assignment had put Golden and Favor on different paths, and Favor's refusal had echoed, loud and personal.
When it ended, Chima dropped into the chair beside Golden, whispering with a grin, "Has the hatred between you and Favor gotten worse?"
Golden only smirked. "You could say it's… competitive."
Chima laughed, nudging her. "Competitive is a word. War is another."
⸻
That evening, the sky at the town spring turned the world pink. Children splashed and shrieked, their laughter bright as cut glass. Xavier and Golden chose a shaded spot under a spreading tree near the water, a place local families came to unwind; the soft smell of wet earth hung in the air.
They walked in slow circles, boots on the sandy ground, shoulders occasionally touching. Xavier's hand found hers sometimes, fingers light and steady.
"You really brought me out here?" Golden asked, a smile tugging at her mouth.
"You asked for a walk date," Xavier said, mock-offended. "I asked for a place with less gossip."
She laughed, ear catching the distant drum of children playing ball. A small boy kicked the ball too high; it bumped into Xavier and skittered past his feet. He scooped it up and tossed it back — not at the child, but into the air, where the youngest one watched with wide eyes.
Without thinking, Xavier gathered the smallest child into his arms, twirled him, and flung him up gently then caught him with practiced ease. The kids' laughter rose, echoing the sound Xavier loved: pure, unselfconscious joy. "Xav! Xav!" they chanted, crowding closer.
He fished in his pocket for a few notes, handed them out with a grin, and the children dispersed, each clutching a coin and a story. Golden watched him, eyes soft.
"I've never seen anyone love children like you do," she said.
Xavier wiped his hands on his trousers and shrugged. "I really love them."
"So does this mean I'll have to compete with our future children for your attention?" Golden teased, half-serious.
He laughed. "Maybe."
"No no. I won't allow that." Golden tucked a stray hair behind her ear, smiling.
"How many do you want, then?" she asked, curiosity and mischief combined.
"Five," Xavier said, simple and bold.
Golden gasped and laughed at the same time. "Five? Have you forgotten I'll be the one carrying them? Labor five times? That's too much."
"We'll go through it together." He reached for both her hands. "When you scream, I'll be screaming too."
She shook her head at him, incredulous. "You're not serious."
"I am." He leaned in, voice low. "When you scream, we'll scream together."
They both burst out laughing, the sound warm and light. "Then I'll give you all five children before we hit… hmm, maybe eleven years," Golden said, playful and bold.
Xavier's face softened; love laid itself plain in the slope of his smile. He drew her close and kissed her, the kiss slow, certain. The river of their talk winding into plans and small promises.
⸻
Weeks folded. The small, fierce brightness of their secret warmed them both. Months later the time came for Xavier's return to Lagos. He sat with Golden on the small stoop outside her gate, fingers twined.
"Baby," he said.
"Hmm?"
"You know I'm leaving tomorrow, right?"
"Yes… and I'll miss you so much." She kissed him, the kind that tried to keep the rest of the night safe.
He held her hand. "Come over to my house?"
"Your house?" she echoed, surprised but pleased.
"Please don't decline again. That'll make it the third time." He pouted like a child.
Golden laughed. "What's wrong with my house that you're so persistent?"
"I just want you to know my space too. You always stop at the gate." He leaned closer, earnest.
Golden smiled, warming to the idea. "Okay, fine. Let's go check out this mystery house of yours."
"Alright, Miss Ice Princess. Shall we?" He stood, offering his arm.
She took it like a promise.
⸻
Xavier's house glowed at dusk. The driveway arced past manicured gardens; orange lanterns caught the breeze. Golden walked through the grand entrance and paused, breath snagging. "Wow… your house is enormous."
He grinned, pleased by her wonder. "Told you—you've been missing out."
She flicked him gently on the arm. "Go away." They both laughed.
Nike popped out from the garden, eyebrows cocked.
"Hey! I thought you went out with Mom?" Xavier said , surprised to see her at home.
"Hi Adenike. How are you doing."
"I'm good, sis—just that big bro stresses me out a lot." Nike smiled, shaking Golden's hand.
"Me? Stress you?" Xavier countered, giving her a mock glare like a father scolding a child, then tapped her head playfully.
They made small talk, then Nike left them to their privacy with a teasing wave. Xavier led Golden upstairs, down a corridor lined with family photos—the kidness of him framed in each candid. Then he led her to his room.
"I knew it. You're a neat freak," Golden said as she stepped into his room.
"Guilty," he said, laughing.
"I don't even remember the last time I folded my clothes," she admitted.
"I'll fold them for you… always." He pulled her into an embrace, breath warm at her ear.
She giggled and fended him off playfully. "Free me jor. Anyway—why did your parents name you Xavier? You're Yoruba."
He laughed, a sound that made the room lighter. "Mom said when she was pregnant, Dad watched a movie. The lead character's name was Xavier… and just like that, it stuck."
Golden's laugh escaped like a bell. "Oh my God, that's so random!"
He feigned mortification. "Stop! It's mortifying!"
She smiled and leaned closer. His lips met hers—soft at first, testing, then deepening with a quiet urgency neither of them had planned for. Fingers brushed, breath quickened. Xavier's hands found the buttons of her dress, loosening them one by one as the moment swallowed hesitation. Clothes slipped away, hearts raced, and with one gentle motion, he lifted her into his arms and laid her softly on the bed.
"Xav… I've never done this before," Golden whispered when the world steadied.
Xavier's hand cradled her cheek. "What?" He met her eyes, gentle. "I've always known you're special. I'll be gentle, I promise. Okay?"
She nodded, breathless. "Okay."
And the next step in their story unrolled, tender and inevitable.
⸻
The morning after, the room kissed by early sun, Golden blinked awake under unfamiliar sheets. The scent of his cologne still lingered, a map of the night before. For a moment she simply breathed, storing the quiet.
"What did I just do?" she mouthed to herself, half-amused, half-uncertain.
Xavier stirred beside her and reached for her hand. "Hey."
"Hey," she answered, voice small.
"You okay?" he asked, eyes searching.
She paused, then nodded. "Just… thinking. Everything. Us. Last night. My mom. The community. What this means."
He sat up and lifted her chin so she met his gaze. "It means I love you, and I want to be with you. That hasn't changed. You didn't lose anything last night—you trusted me. That's the most beautiful thing you've ever done."
Her eyes shone; she blinked quickly, refusing the leak of tears. "You better not break my heart, Xav. I mean it."
Xavier smiled, tender and fierce. "If I ever do, the whole of Apu will be waiting to skin me alive."
They laughed, the sound washing away some of the fear. The morning felt bright and dangerous; the choice they'd made threaded into every small movement.
Golden rested her head on his shoulder. "Now I understand what people mean when they say love is terrifying."
He pressed his forehead to hers. "But worth it?"
She closed her eyes. "Terrifying… but maybe, just maybe—worth it."
They held each other, two people with new promises, while the house breathed around them like a witness.