Chapter 1
Chapter One – The Setup
I wasn’t ready.
Not for the dress hugging every curve like it had a grudge. Not for the thick silence pressing against my chest. And definitely not for the possibility that I’d be judged—again—for simplybeing me.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in Stacy’s apartment, my fingers twisting together like nervous vines. My emerald dress shimmered under the soft lights, clinging to my figure in ways that screamedvisible. Too visible. Too much.
“Maybe I should just stay home,” I mumbled, eyes tracing every roll, every dimple, every perceived flaw.
Stacy’s heels clicked sharply on the marble floor as she walked in behind me. She looked like a goddess in her off-shoulder jumpsuit and gold hoop earrings, her confidence radiating like perfume.
“Don’t even think about it, Mona,” she said, hands on her hips like she was about to wage war on my insecurity. “This isn’t just a date. It’syour moment.”
I scoffed. “My moment to be rejected. Again.”
She rolled her eyes but softened immediately, stepping closer. “You’renotjust your body. You’re kind, brilliant, successful, and if this guy can’t see past your dress size, then he doesn’t deserve to breathe your air.”
“But he hasn’t even met me, Stacy.” My voice cracked. “What if the second he sees me, he looks... disappointed?”
Stacy cupped my face like I was fragile glass. “Then you walk away like the queen you are. But you don’thide. Not tonight.”
The car ride felt like a countdown to judgment.
Outside, Lagos pulsed with life—horns blaring, streetlights glowing, the scent of roasting corn thick in the humid air. Inside, I could barely breathe. My heart galloped as we pulled into a dimly lit parking lot beside a quaint Italian restaurant that looked too expensive and too romantic.
“We’re here,” Stacy said gently.
I sat frozen, staring at my reflection in the glove compartment. My lipstick was still perfect. My fear was not.
“He’s going to see me,” I whispered. “Really see me.”
“Let him,” Stacy replied. “You’re a whole damn meal. And if he can’t handle that, he can choke.”
Inside the restaurant, it was all warm lighting and soft violin music. Laughter echoed off the brick walls, and the smell of garlic and basil wrapped around me like a comforting hug I didn’t deserve tonight.
Marvin stood and waved us over enthusiastically. Beside him sat his cousin—the infamous Luke. Back straight, clean cut, expensive watch catching the light. I couldn’t see his face just yet.
And then I heard it.
His voice.
His words.
His poison.
“Marvin, let’s be real. I couldneverdate a plus-size woman,” he said, casually sipping his wine like he hadn’t just punched me in the soul. “They’re just lazy. Always eating crap and blaming the world for their weight. It’s pathetic.”
Everything slowed.
The violin faded.
The lights dimmed.
And the floor might as well have cracked open and swallowed me whole.
My feet moved before my brain did. I spun around, nearly knocking over a waiter, my breath stuck somewhere between a sob and a scream.
“Mona!” Stacy called after me, her heels scraping against the tiled floor. “Wait! Please!”
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I burst out into the Lagos night like a woman on fire. My thighs burned. My chest heaved. My eyes stung.
And all I could think was:
I was right. I was right to be afraid.
Behind me, voices called my name. The door slammed. A car horn blared.
But I just kept running—away from the pain, away from the shame, and away from the man who didn’t even know he had broken meng here…
