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Pretty Woman
Chapter 4: Reassurances and Fire

Chapter 4: Reassurances and Fire

Jidenna could feel the tension growing between them like a creeping storm cloud. The distance in Amaka's eyes, the hesitation in her touch, the guarded tone of her words—it was all too much to ignore. He missed the warmth that once existed between them, the way her laughter would fill the silence, the way she would hold his hand like it was her lifeline. He couldn't let it slip away, not without a fight.

So, he decided to make things right.

The following morning, Jidenna woke up with a resolve he hadn't felt in weeks. He got out of bed early, careful not to wake Amaka, and made his way to the kitchen. He wanted to start her day with something special. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon soon filled the apartment. By the time Amaka walked in, clad in one of his oversized shirts, her hair still messy from sleep, the dining table was set with a breakfast spread that rivaled any five-star hotel.

"What's all this?" she asked, her voice soft with surprise.

"A peace offering," Jidenna said with a sheepish smile. "I know I've been... distracted. But I want you to know that you're still my priority, Amaka. Always."

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, he thought she might brush him off, but then she smiled—a small, tentative smile that made his chest ache with hope.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she took a seat. "It looks amazing."

Over breakfast, Jidenna tried to steer the conversation to lighter topics. He told her about a new song he was working on and asked for her input. She seemed to relax as they talked, her guarded demeanor softening with each passing moment. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Later that week, Jidenna went all out. He took Amaka to one of her favorite spots—a quiet, picturesque restaurant by the lagoon. The soft glow of fairy lights and the gentle hum of live jazz created the perfect atmosphere. They sat by the water, sharing a bottle of wine and reminiscing about the early days of their relationship.

"Do you remember that gallery we went to?" Jidenna asked, his eyes alight with nostalgia.

Amaka chuckled. "The one where you performed and forgot the lyrics halfway through your set?"

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Why would you bring that up?"

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"Because it was hilarious," she said, laughing. "But you handled it well. No one even noticed."

"Except you," he pointed out, grinning.

"Except me," she agreed, her smile softening. "I'll never forget that night."

Neither would he. It was the night he realized how much she meant to him. And sitting across from her now, watching her laugh, he knew he'd do anything to hold onto what they had.

A few nights later, they found themselves at home, the faint hum of the television filling the living room as they lounged on the couch. Amaka excused herself to take a shower, leaving Jidenna alone with his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that, despite his efforts, there was still a wall between them—one he was desperate to tear down.

When he heard the water stop, he made his way to the bedroom. Amaka was in the bathroom, her silhouette visible through the frosted glass of the shower door. She was humming softly, a tune he didn't recognize but found soothing nonetheless.

"Amaka?" he called out, his voice hesitant.

"Hmm?" she responded, her voice muffled by the door.

"Can we talk?"

She stepped out a moment later, wrapped in a towel, her skin glistening with droplets of water. She raised an eyebrow at him, her expression wary but curious.

"What is it?" she asked.

Jidenna took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I know things have been hard lately. I know I've hurt you, even if I didn't mean to. But I want you to know that I'm here. For you, for us. I'll do whatever it takes to make this work."

Amaka studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Then, without a word, she walked past him into the bedroom. For a brief second, he thought she was dismissing him, but then she spoke.

"Come here, Jidenna."

He followed her, his heart pounding. She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, her towel slipping slightly off her shoulder. When he sat beside her, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek.

"Do you mean it?" she asked softly. "That you'll do whatever it takes?"

"I do," he said, his voice steady. "I love you, Amaka. I don't want to lose you."

Her gaze held his for a moment longer before she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with all the emotions they hadn't been able to put into words. One kiss turned into another, and soon they were lost in each other.

Their passion spilled over, their movements urgent yet tender. It was as if they were trying to rediscover what had been slipping away, to reclaim the connection that had always been the heart of their relationship. In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the fame, not the doubts, not the outside world. It was just them, wrapped in the warmth of their love.

Afterward, as they lay tangled together under the sheets, Amaka rested her head on Jidenna's chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

"I've missed this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But we'll be okay, Amaka. I promise."

She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to what they once had.