Love Found Me When I Wasn’t Looking (Episode 15)

Daniel’s POV

Abuja looked the same.

Tall buildings. Busy roads. Power and pride sitting comfortably side by side. As my car slowed in front of my father’s office, my chest tightened. I hadn’t been here in years, yet the place still felt like it owned a part of me.

I walked in.

The receptionist looked up, startled. “Sir Daniel?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Please tell my father I’m here.”

Minutes later, I stood in his office polished desk, leather chair, framed photos of deals and handshakes. My father looked up slowly, surprise flickering across his face before hardening into control.

“So,” he said, leaning back. “You finally remembered you have a home.”

“I never forgot,” I answered calmly. “I just chose my own path.”

He scoffed. “Teaching?”

I ignored the insult. “I came to talk business.”

That caught his attention.

“You left because you refused to marry into power,” he said. “What changed?”

“I didn’t change,” I replied. “I grew. I’m willing to work with you but not under conditions that control my life.”

He studied me carefully. “And the girl?”

I didn’t hesitate. “She stays.”

Silence filled the room.

“You’re throwing away security for love,” he said.

“No,” I corrected. “I’m building security *with* love.”

I laid out my plan how I wanted to learn the business, earn properly, invest independently, and prove my worth without trading my freedom.

When I finished, he leaned back again, eyes thoughtful.

“You’re stubborn,” he finally said. “Just like me.”

I almost smiled.

“I’ll give you a chance,” he continued. “But this time, failure is on you.”

“That’s all I ask,” I said.

As I left his office, something inside me felt lighter. I wasn’t the boy who ran away anymore.

I was a man who returned on his own terms.

Victoria’s POV 

Distance is a quiet enemy.

It doesn’t shout. It whispers.

Daniel’s absence settled into my apartment like silence that refused to leave. Nights felt longer. Mornings felt emptier. Even school—once filled with stolen glances and shared smiles—felt dull.

I missed him in small ways.

The way he’d look at me like I mattered.
The way his voice grounded me.
The way loving him felt easy.

My mother called often now.

“Have you thought about the Abuja man?” she asked one evening.

“Yes,” I replied softly.

“And?”

“I’m still thinking,” I said, even though my heart already knew.

At school, people asked questions.

Where is Daniel?
Did he transfer?
Is he okay?”

I smiled politely and said little.

Inside, I struggled.

One night, I lay in bed staring at my phone, rereading his messages.

I miss you.
This is temporary.
I’m doing this for us.

Tears slid down my temples.

What if love wasn’t strong enough to survive ambition?
What if distance changed him?

Then my phone rang.

Daniel.

I answered immediately. “Hi.”

“I saw my father today,” he said.

My heart raced. “How did it go?”

“I stood my ground,” he replied. “And I thought of you the whole time.”

I smiled through my tears. “I’m proud of you.”

“Hold on for me,” he said quietly. “Please.”

“I am,” I whispered. “Every day.”

After the call ended, I pressed the phone to my chest.

Distance hurt.

But giving up would hurt more.

And so, I waited loving him across cities, across doubt, across fear believing that some journeys were worth the ache. 

continue reading Episode 16