Chapter 3: Secrets and Struggles
Episode 3: A Daring Escape
The next few days were a whirlwind of secret preparations and stolen moments. Florence and I agreed to leave for Lagos in three days, giving us time to tie up loose ends without arousing suspicion.
On our final night in the village, I snuck out to meet Florence by the stream where we’d first confessed our love. The moonlight danced on the water, casting a silvery glow over everything.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, taking her hands in mine.
Florence’s eyes shone with determination. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I pulled her close, our bodies fitting together perfectly. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, filled with the promise of our future together. As we broke apart, breathless, Florence whispered, “I wish we didn’t have to wait. I want to be yours completely, Olabamiji.”
The heat in her words sent a shiver down my spine. “Soon,” I promised, my voice husky. “When we’re in Lagos, we’ll have all the time in the world.”
We spent the night in each other’s arms, talking, laughing, and sharing tender kisses under the stars. As dawn broke, we reluctantly parted, knowing the next time we met would be to leave this life behind.
The day of our departure arrived with agonizing slowness. I’d arranged for Mr. Aluko to drive us to the bus station in the next town, where we’d catch a bus to Lagos. As I waited at our meeting spot, my heart pounded with anticipation and fear.
Finally, I saw Florence hurrying towards me, a small bag clutched in her hands. But something was wrong. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with panic.
“Florence, what’s-“
“They know!” she gasped, grabbing my arm. “My stepmother and Peace – they found out about our plan. They’re coming after me!”
Just then, I heard angry shouts in the distance. Without hesitation, I grabbed Florence’s hand. “Run!”
We tore through the village, dodging between houses and market stalls. Behind us, I could hear Florence’s stepmother’s shrill voice getting closer. “Florence! Get back here this instant!”
Heart pounding, we reached Mr. Aluko’s car. He took one look at our panicked faces and started the engine. “Get in, quickly!” he urged.
As we sped away, I saw Florence’s stepmother and stepsister in the rearview mirror, their faces contorted with rage. Florence buried her face in my chest, her body shaking with sobs.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, stroking her hair. “We made it. We’re free.”
The journey to Lagos was a blur of nervous energy and cautious hope. Florence alternated between excitement at seeing the big city and fear of the unknown. I held her close, whispering reassurances and painting pictures of the life we’d build together.
As the Lagos skyline came into view, Florence gasped in awe. “It’s so big,” she whispered.
I squeezed her hand. “Welcome to your new home, my love.”
Our arrival at my family’s mansion was met with a mix of shock, confusion, and, from my mother, thinly veiled disapproval. But as I told our story, my father’s expression softened.
“You’ve shown great character, my son,” he said, looking at Florence with newfound respect. “Both of you have.”
My mother took longer to win over, but Florence’s genuine kindness and strength eventually melted her reservations.
That night, as Florence and I stood on the balcony of my room – our room now – looking out over the glittering city, I felt a sense of peace I’d never known before.
“Are you happy?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her from behind.
Florence turned in my embrace, her eyes shining with love. “Happier than I’ve ever been,” she said, pulling me down for a kiss.
As our kiss deepened, filled with all the passion we’d held back for so long, I knew that our journey was just beginning. There would be challenges ahead – adapting to city life, dealing with society’s expectations, perhaps even facing Florence’s family again. But together, we could overcome anything.
In that moment, under the vast Nigerian sky, with the woman I loved in my arms, I was home.
