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My instagram Love - Season 1 - Episode 11
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Source: coolval



I had a long talk with Jessica that afternoon that soon led to a quarrel between us. Although we buried the feud in no time, I still couldn’t compel myself to agree with her point of view over the issue we had both discussed about. She was the same person who had persuaded me not to tell this guy in question about my disability, yet she was the one telling me to agree with his little hook up request in form of a ‘friendly date’ so I could embarrass myself in his presence. She said that this was a golden opportunity I wouldn’t want to miss out on, and that a man who truly loves me as he claims and is meant to be in my life would surely stay no matter what happens.

I had gaped at her in disbelief when I heard those words coming from her mouth. How ironic! How people change so fast!

When I had doubts about revealing my true identity to Tunde earlier in the day, Jessica was the same person who said, and I

quote: “Lola, there’s no way on Earth he can find out unless you tell him.”
Had she suddenly forgotten those words?
She further mentioned: “…fantasy and reality are two different things entirely. There’s like a zero percent chance out of a hundred that he’d get to know about it.”
Yet, she expects me to be the one who ruins this whole facade I had been cajoled into doing? Wonders, they say, shall never end.
Maybe another long-overdue heart to heart conversation between us would solve this issue on ground. Maybe all we had to do was to have a solid agreement between each other and talk things out until we arrive at a suitable conclusion that yields a solution for me—for the both of us!





Meanwhile, I wondered what came over me when I told Lola everything I had in mind concerning us. What was I thinking? I barely even gave her the chance to air her opinion about the request I made, but it felt like I was doing the right thing in some kind of way.
It’s been 6 hours since I dropped my daughter back home in the care of my fiancée and stormed out of the house after another baseless argument ensued between Francesca and I. Tonight would be a big night which requires taking a big leap despite the odds, and I wasn’t willing to let anybody’s negative vibe ruin my positive energy. So, keeping that in mind, I made sure I dressed in my best outfit and wore just simple shoes in order not to give ‘The Duchess’ any wrong impression about me that I might be proud or a chronic fashion freak which I am not.
Others may dress extravagantly when having a ‘date’ with an online friend, but not me. In my personal opinion, complexity lies in simplicity, and simplicity is the main key to one’s true attributes. I didn’t have to dress lavishly to impress a woman I’d be meeting for the first time in my life. I’d rather let my natural personality speak for itself.


1 more hour.

I arrived at the well known Camelo Mall after a one hour drive, due to the heavy traffic I’d experienced on the busy roads of Lagos. I sighed with relief when I finally found a place to park my car among other cars in the parking lot.

Deactivating the ignition, I stepped out of the car, stretched my muscles and walked into the big shopping mall, looking around the interior parts of it which had lots and lots of goods, salesclerks, customers, air conditioners, staircases, stairlifts, elevators, high-class furniture and even a nice theater somewhere in the upper floors. I wasn’t marvelled by its unique features anymore like I was during my first and second visits. I was even familiar with some of the beautiful salesgirls who derived joy in the work they do even though it could be stressful sometimes. Denise, the fair-haired one with the fair skin complexion and an attractive slender body, approached me with a big smile on her face when she saw me. As usual, she was wearing her signature black and blue uniform which was the official dress code for all workers in the mall. Unlike other workers, Denise’s uniform was a tight T-shirt and a fitted pair of trousers which revealed her womanly features in a very decent way.

She curtsied politely and I extended a hand on impulse, smiling back at her.
“Welcome, sir.” We shook hands coolly, and I could feel the smooth texture of her palm in mine.
“Denise, Denise, Denise!” I said, giving her one of my trademark wink as we broke the brief handshake. “Thank you so much. Nice nails you got there.”

Denise smiled sheepishly, glancing at her painted fingernails. “I know, right?” She laughed and flicked her wrists in the air in a rather nervous manner. “I just fixed it yesterday — all by myself — but most people don’t even believe me when I tell them I did it on my own. You’re the seventh person I’m receiving a positive compliment from since morning till now, sir. I’m so happy!”
“I’m glad to receive such warm honor from you, Denise. Your words are certainly from the heart and I appreciate that so much. The pleasure is all mine.” I bowed slightly in a rather playful manner and added: “Denise, I’m actually expecting someone tonight.”

“Really?”
“Absolutely.” I affirmed, intending to speak further but she interrupted me almost immediately.

“Is Miss Francesca aware of this?”
I shook my head disapprovingly. “No, she’s not. I mean, does she have to be?”
“Of course. She’s your fiancée.” Denise gave me a weird look, furrowing her artificial brows. “Why doesn’t she have to be aware?”

“Why does she have to be?”
“Like I’ve said, she’s your fiancée and your heartthrob.” Denise pointed out again, gesticulating with her thin hands like a professional newscaster. “Besides, almost every woman has a crush on you. Everywhere you go, they stare at you, admire you and become filled with wonderment and–”
“What are you even talking about?” I cut in sharply as a wave of laughter struck me like a bolt from the blue. “What’re you driving at?”
“Look behind you, sir.” She said softly. I did as she said, but I saw nothing except for some customers standing close to the counter at the corner, paying for the items they carried in a shopping cart.
“I don’t understand. I can’t see anyone there.”
“Look very well, sir. Upstairs!”
This time around, I looked properly and noticed a mature woman wearing sunglasses, a green jumpsuit, two gold watches on both wrists and fancy sneakers on her feet. This woman’s hair was nothing to write home about. She was short, pot-bellied and fat. Though she wasn’t unattractive and ugly, neither was she pretty. She was just somewhere in-between that zone.

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