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*"When Love Burned Slowly"* 💔🔥 (A tale of sweet beginnings and a tragic end…)
<h1><span style='background-color: transparent; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;'>CHAPTER THREE:</span></h1><h2>*“A Touch of Spark, A Hint of Flame”*</h2><p><br/></p><p>Amaka wasn’t supposed to call again. </p><p>Not after that night. Not after that silence. </p><p>But by 11:02 PM, as the city buzzed beneath a tired sky, his phone lit up.</p><p><br/></p><p>*“Are you up?”* </p><p>A message so simple, yet loud enough to wake a storm in his chest.</p><p><br/></p><p>Kunle hesitated. He had trained himself to forget her voice, her laughter echoing in the corners of his apartment, the way she folded his shirts like they were sacred.</p><p><br/></p><p>But memories are stubborn things.</p><p><br/></p><p>He replied, “Always… for you.”</p><p><br/></p><p>They met again. This time, not under a glowing moon, but in a cold cafe where nothing smelled like love. No warm pastries, just stale air and two hearts beating too loud in a quiet room.</p><p><br/></p><p>“You left without saying goodbye,” she said, her voice breaking like cracked porcelain.</p><p><br/></p><p>He looked at her, searching for pieces of the girl he used to know. </p><p>“I thought it’d be easier,” he confessed.</p><p><br/></p><p>She smiled — but it wasn’t joy. It was grief dressed in lipstick.</p><p><br/></p><p>“I came back… not for us,” she said. “But to return something that doesn’t belong to me.”</p><p><br/></p><p>From her bag, she pulled out a worn wristwatch — the one with the broken leather strap he had given her.</p><p>He reached for it… and in that moment, their fingers touched — lightning again.</p><p><br/></p><p>But love is not lightning. </p><p>It doesn’t always strike twice.</p><p><br/></p><p>Or does it?</p>
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