Love Found Me When I Wasn’t Looking (Episode 19)

Victoria’s POV

Having Daniel around felt unreal like I was living inside one of my daydreams.

Every morning I woke up and half-expected to find the house quiet again, to realize that his visit had only happened in my sleep. But then I’d hear his voice from the living room, or feel his arm tighten around me, and I’d smile before my eyes even opened.

That week couldn’t have come at a better time.

Mid-term break.

No school.
No staff room tension.
No careful distance.

Just us.

On our first full day together, Daniel took my hand and said, “I’m stealing you today.”

I laughed. “Where to?”

“Anywhere you want.”

We ended up at a quiet restaurant not too far from my place. Nothing too fancy, but warm and cozy the kind of place where you could sit for hours without being rushed. Daniel pulled out my chair like a gentleman, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“You’ve changed,” I teased.

He smiled, that confident smile I’d missed so much. “I’ve always been like this. You just weren’t around long enough to notice.”

We talked while waiting for our food about work, about Abuja, about silly memories from school. He told me funny stories about his colleagues, mimicking their voices so well I almost choked on my drink from laughing.

“I’ve missed this,” I said quietly.

“This?” he asked.

“You. Us. Talking without checking the time.”

His gaze softened. “Me too.”

When the food arrived, he watched me eat like I was the most interesting thing in the room.

“What?” I asked, feeling shy.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just like looking at you when you’re happy.”

My heart skipped.

After eating, we walked around, holding hands like we didn’t care who saw us. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like hiding. I felt… chosen.

Later that evening, we went back to my place.

“I want to cook for you,” I told him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

I laughed. “Very sure.”

We cooked together in the small kitchen, bumping into each other, arguing playfully over salt and spices. He stood behind me at one point, guiding my hands as I stirred the pot, his chest warm against my back.

“This feels nice,” I said softly.

“It feels right,” he replied.

We ate from the same plate, sat on the floor when the couch felt too far apart, and talked until the night grew quiet. At some point, I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That night, I slept better than I had in weeks.

The days that followed blurred together in the best way.

One day we played games and laughed like children. Another day we stayed indoors, watching movies and teasing each other about our different tastes. Sometimes we talked about serious things my mum, the pressure, the uncertainty of the future.

Daniel listened. Really listened.

“I don’t have everything figured out yet,” he told me one afternoon, his fingers tracing slow patterns on my hand. “But I know one thing—I want you in my future.”

I looked at him, my chest tight with emotion. “That’s enough for now.”

One evening, while washing plates together, I caught him staring at me again.

“You keep looking at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re memorizing me.”

He smiled softly. “Distance teaches you not to take moments for granted.”

That week, he showed me love in quiet ways.

Waking up before me to make tea.
Brushing my hair aside when I was tired.
Holding my hand when I talked about my fears.

And each night, when we lay close, I wondered how something that felt so gentle could also feel so strong.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, reality whispered.

The week wouldn’t last forever.

One night, as we sat on the balcony watching the sky darken, I finally said it. “You’ll have to go back.”

“I know,” he replied. “But this” he squeezed my hand “this is what I’m fighting for.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“That no matter how hard it gets… we won’t forget this week.”

He kissed my forehead. “Impossible. This week is already part of me.”

As I closed my eyes, listening to his steady breathing, I realized something:

Love didn’t always come loudly.

Sometimes, it came as a calm week in the middle of chaos
a pause,
a reminder,
a reason to keep believing.

And as long as Daniel was beside me, I was ready for whatever came next.

Continue reading Episode 20