CHAPTER ONE: The Girl Who Loved
QuietlyNeriah had learned to love quietly.Not because she was afraid of love—but because life had taught her that loving loudly often ended with explanations no one stayed to hear. So she smiled gently, spoke softly, and kept her emotions carefully hidden behind calm eyes.She was the kind of girl people overlooked.At the café where she worked part-time, customers rarely remembered her name, but they remembered how peaceful they felt after she served them. Neriah noticed everything—the cracked tiles on the floor, the way couples held hands when they thought no one was watching, the loneliness hidden behind cheerful laughter.Love, to her, was something she observed from a distance.Until Rowan walked in.He came on a rainy evening, hair damp, shoulders tense, eyes heavy with thoughts he wasn't ready to share. Neriah noticed him immediately—not because he was striking, but because he looked like someone carrying too much alone.When she handed him his drink, their fingers brushed.It was brief. Accidental.But her heart reacted before her mind could stop it.Rowan looked up, surprised, as if he hadn't expected warmth from a stranger. He smiled—not wide, not practiced—but real. And in that moment, something unfamiliar stirred in Neriah's chest.Hope.She hated it instantly.Hope had a way of growing fast and breaking slow.Still, when he returned the next day… and the next… and began choosing the seat closest to where she stood, Neriah found herself waiting for him without realizing it.He never pushed. Never asked questions she wasn't ready to answer. He just existed—calm, attentive, patient.And slowly, dangerously, Neriah began to wonder what it would feel like to be loved out loud.
CHAPTER TWO: Ripples in the Quiet
The café smelled of warm pastries and freshly ground coffee, but Neriah barely noticed. Her thoughts were tangled in the memory of Rowan's smile from yesterday, the way his eyes had lingered on her as if he could see past the calm mask she wore so carefully.
She tried to focus on her work, moving smoothly from table to table, her hands rehearsing motions she had done a hundred times before. But every time the door chimed, her heart skipped, hoping—or perhaps dreading—that he might walk in.
And then he did.
Rowan stepped in, the hem of his tailored coat brushing against the doorway, shoes clicking lightly against the café tiles. Even in the drizzle outside, he carried the kind of quiet confidence that made people notice without him asking. It wasn't showy. It was subtle, effortless—like wealth had taught him the art of commanding attention with a single look.
Neriah's chest tightened. "Good morning, Rowan," she said, keeping her voice steady even though her pulse was anything but.
"Good morning, Neriah," he replied, his tone calm but warm. He scanned the café briefly, taking in the tables, the small group of students in one corner, the older couple sipping tea by the window. "Is it busy today?"
"Always," she said, forcing a small smile as she moved to grab a fresh cup for him.
He accepted it with a slight nod and made his way to the window seat—the one he always chose. As he settled in, he didn't pull out a phone or a notebook. He simply sat, one hand resting on the table, the other drumming lightly on the armrest, as if the world outside the café could wait. He let the soft rain streaking the windowpane occupy his attention, yet Neriah had the odd sense that he noticed her every move.
She watched the subtle details: the faint crease in his coat from travel, the glint of expensive cufflinks, the way his hair fell perfectly yet effortlessly over his forehead. There was power in him, yes, but not the kind that shouted—it was quiet, controlled, magnetic.
After a long pause, he turned his gaze toward her. "You… notice a lot, don't you?"
Neriah blinked, her fingers brushing over the counter to steady herself. "I… pay attention," she said carefully, hiding the way her heart had just jumped.
"Good," he murmured, almost to himself. "I like that about you."
It wasn't a compliment she could ignore—not because it was flattering, but because it felt… real. Unhurried. Intentional.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward; it was shared, a quiet understanding passing between them. She had always observed life from a distance, safe behind her calm exterior, but now she found herself drawn into this subtle current, a ripple in her carefully controlled world.
And for the first time in a long while, Neriah welcome
CHAPTER THREE: A World Apart
The next morning, Neriah arrived at the café earlier than usual, balancing the weight of her textbooks in one hand and her bag in the other. Campus life had been demanding, but she had taken the café job to ease the constant worry about tuition and bills. Every extra naira mattered, and every shift was another step toward keeping herself afloat.
She breathed in the familiar smell of coffee and pastries, trying to focus on the morning rush. But even beforeshe could settle behind the counter, the door chimed.
Rowan.
He walked in like he owned the air around him—not showy, but confident in a way that made heads turn without effort. His coat was neatly tailored, his shoes polished, and yet, to Neriah, he looked just like any other customer. She didn't know about his wealth, his family, or the life of privilege that allowed him to move through the world so effortlessly.
"Good morning," he said, flashing a casual smile that made her chest tighten.
"Morning," she replied, keeping her tone neutral even though her pulse was racing.
He chose the usual window seat and settled in, arms resting on the table, taking in the small café with a quiet appreciation. He didn't pull out a notebook or a phone—he just… existed there, calm and attentive.
Neriah couldn't help but notice the subtle details: the careful way he adjusted his coat, the faint crease from travel, the relaxed yet commanding posture. There was something about him that felt… bigger than the café, bigger than the city, though she had no idea why.
"You… notice a lot, don't you?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched her move efficiently between tables.
Neriah paused, brushing down her apron. "I… pay attention," she said carefully. She wasn't about to let anyone see that her heart skipped around him.
He smiled faintly. "Good. I like that about you."
Her stomach fluttered. She had learned to survive quietly, to work hard without expecting recognition, but somehow, this small acknowledgment felt heavier than any praise she'd ever received.
The morning passed in a rhythm of orders and polite conversation. Neriah's mind drifted often to school—assignments, upcoming lectures—but Rowan's presence added an unexpected current to her day. She was used to managing her world alone, but with him, she felt the strange tug of curiosity and distraction.