Part 2Two weeks passed.
Ade had eaten lunch at Tola’s Kitchen every single day. Even on days when his schedule was packed. Even on days when his assistant, Funmi, reminded him of important meetings. He would cancel. He would reschedule. He would do whatever it took to sit at that small table by the window.
And Chinwe would serve him. Always the same. Quiet. Graceful. Unbothered.
It was driving him mad.
On this particular Thursday, he arrived earlier than usual. The restaurant was empty except for the old man with his newspaper. Ade sat down. He loosened his tie. He ran a hand through his hair. He was tired. The board had been ruthless that morning. They questioned his decision to acquire a struggling tech company. They called it reckless. They called it emotional.
They were wrong. But they didn’t know that.
“You look tired, sir.”
He looked up. Chinwe was standing beside his table. She was holding a small jug of water. Her eyes, those calm dark eyes, were studying him.
“I am tired,” he admitted.
She poured water into his glass. “The jollof rice will fix that.”
He laughed. A real laugh. It surprised him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that.
“You think rice can fix everything?” he asked.
She tilted her head. A tiny smile played on her lips. “Rice fixes hunger. Hunger makes people angry. Angry people make bad decisions. So yes. Rice fixes everything.”
He stared at her. She was serious. Completely serious.
“That’s the smartest thing anyone has said to me all week,” he said.
She shrugged. “I have my moments.”
She walked away. He watched her go. He noticed the small braids at the back of her neck. He noticed the way her dress swayed slightly as she moved. He noticed everything.
When she brought his food, he was ready.
“Sit with me,” he said.
She stopped. Her eyes widened just a little. Just for a second. Then she shook her head.
“I am working, sir.”
“I know,” he said. “But the restaurant is empty. Just for five minutes.”
She looked around. The old man was asleep behind his newspaper. The kitchen door was closed. The place was silent.
“Five minutes,” she said.
She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. She folded her hands on the table. She looked at him. Waiting.
He didn’t know what to say. He was the CEO of a billion-naira company. He gave speeches to thousands of people. He faced hostile board members without flinching. But this woman. This small, simple woman in a black dress. She made him nervous.
“What’s your full name?” he asked.
“Chinwe Nwachukwu,” she said.
“Chinwe,” he repeated. He liked the sound of it. “It means ‘God owns,’ right?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You know Igbo?”
“I know a little,” he said. “My business takes me all over Nigeria. I try to learn something everywhere I go.”
She studied him. Her eyes were searching. “You’re not a regular businessman, are you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“The watch,” she said, pointing at his wrist. “That’s a Patek Philippe. My father had one. He was a banker. Before he lost everything.”
Ade felt something twist in his chest. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. The same small shrug she did before. But this time, he noticed something in her eyes. A flicker of pain. Quickly hidden.
“Life happens,” she said. “Now I serve rice. And it’s okay. I am happy.”
“Are you?” he asked.
She didn’t answer immediately. She looked out the window. The street was busy. Hawkers were selling plantain chips. A danfo bus was honking. Children were running.
“I am content,” she finally said. “That’s different from happy. But it’s enough.”
Ade wanted to reach across the table and touch her hand. He wanted to tell her that she deserved more than just “enough.” He wanted to tell her that she was the most interesting person he had met in years.
But he didn’t. He just nodded.
“Thank you for sitting with me,” he said.
She stood up. “Five minutes are up, sir. Enjoy your food.”
She walked away. He watched her go. His heart was beating faster. His hands were sweating. He felt like a teenager. It was ridiculous.
He was forty-two years old. He had been married once. Divorced twice. He had dated models. Actresses. Heiresses. Beautiful women who threw themselves at him. Women who wanted his money. His power. His name.
But none of them had ever made him feel like this.
He ate his food. It was delicious. It was always delicious. But today, the taste was different. Today, everything felt different.
The next day, he came back. But this time, something was wrong.
Chinwe was not at the front. Another woman was serving. She was older. Her name was Mama Tola, the owner of the restaurant. She was kind but busy. She rushed between tables, looking stressed.
“Where is Chinwe?” Ade asked when she brought his water.
Mama Tola sighed. “She called in sick this morning. Fever. The girl works too hard. She never rests.”
Ade’s heart dropped. Sick. Chinwe was sick. Alone in her small apartment somewhere in this city. With no one to take care of her.
He didn’t eat that day. He paid for the food he didn’t touch and left.
He sat in his car outside the restaurant. His mind was racing. He didn’t know where she lived. He didn’t have her number. He had no way to help her.
But he was Ade Williams. He was the CEO of Williams Group. He had connections. He had resources. He could find anyone in this city.
He pulled out his phone.
“Musa,” he said to his driver. “Find out everything you can about Chinwe Nwachukwu. I need her address. And I need it now.”
Musa nodded. He didn’t ask questions. He never did.
Two hours later, Ade was standing outside a small apartment building in Mushin. It was a far cry from his penthouse. The building was old. The paint was peeling. The stairs were cracked.
He climbed to the third floor. He knocked on door 3B.
The door opened.
Chinwe stood there. She was wearing a simple yellow buba and wrapper. Her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders. Her face was pale. Her eyes were red. She looked exhausted.
But she was still beautiful.
“Ade?” she said. Her voice was hoarse. Confused. “How… how did you find me?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked at her. She was sick. She needed help. And he couldn’t stop himself.
He stepped forward. He gently took her hand.
“Let me take care of you,” he said.
She stared at him. Her lips parted. She didn’t speak. She just stared at his hand holding hers.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
And Ade felt his heart explode.
To be continued…