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Added: Nov 04
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My instagram Love - Season 1 - Episode 18
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Source: coolval
I looked at Jessica and mouthed the words: “Should I talk?”

“Yes!” She mouthed back, giving me her signature ‘don’t-be-stupid’ look. “Talk ASAP! Don’t be stupid.”

We were both speaking in hushed whispers. As I opened my mouth to say something again, Tunde got back on his feet and straightened up, raising his head to meet my gaze.

At this moment in particular, I could’ve sworn I felt a calm wind blowing inside of my remarkably flat tummy as we locked gazes for a while, both beyond stunned. Admittedly, the rate of my heartbeat increased from normal to stupidly abnormal, and the raging of my hormones skyrocketed from its moderate flow to what seemed to be a p--n star’s excessive libido—especially one who acts under the influence of Viagra.

My ovaries were sizzling deep down inside my abdomen. My pubic region seemed to produce more sweat than usual and my beautifully rounded b0s0ms stiffened like plutonic rocks hanging below the Earth’s surface. At the age of twenty-six, I had never been ‘touched’ by a man before, but just staring at Tunde’s face made me feel as if I had developed a fetus growing inside of my womb already. What a spectacular thrill indeed!

“Lola?” He couldn’t believe his eyes at all. Prince Charming gaped at me in total disbelief, clearly disappointed in the human version of his online Duchess.

As expected, the first thing his eyes fell upon were the outdated crutches under my arms. After that, he looked at my legs and I noticed the way his eyes widened as if they were about to pop out of their sockets or explode right inside of them.



I bowed my head down, filled with so much shame. “I warned you.”

Jessica was visibly petrified, just standing right there behind us, not knowing what to do or what to say in such an awkward situation. She had a hand in my current predicament anyway, so she was meant to take a fair share of the blame too. We were both guilty as our conscience charged against us. I was starting to regret why I never opened up to him in the first place. If only I had known this whole thing would turn out this way, I would’ve done the needful without hesitation. If only I–

“Lola! You?” Tunde’s voice was barely audible at this point in time, but it was loud enough to disrupt my bitter thoughts of regret. I felt awful.

“You? Lola… Crutches? One leg?”

Even though he was mumbling incoherent words, any sane person could definitely read sense in the grimace he was wearing and gestures he was making with his hands. I’d never seen a man look so disappointed than that before in my entire life!

Tunde was traumatised. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much shock for him to handle for one night. His expectations had been compromised so badly—all thanks to the one stupid mistake I made by not telling him the truth about who I am in the real world.
“Tunde, I’m very sorry about this.” I was on the verge of breaking into tears as I raised my head up again, but I continued batting my eyelashes in order to hold them back in. “I should’ve told you earlier on. I gave you the hints. I tried!”

“You should’ve been straightforward.” Tunde’s voice still retained its low pitch, and I saw him blinking his eyes too, surely avoiding to make eye contact with me. “You should’ve been honest with me!”
“I know!” I whispered, feeling my dry lips starting to quiver. “I was afraid. I was…” I trailed off when I saw him clenching his fists and chewing on his lower lip, greatly agitated by listening to my c--k-and-bull story.
In order to avoid any further catastrophe he wasn’t prepared for, Tunde decided that he had had more than enough of my drama for one night. He started to walk away, descending the staircase without sparing me a glance at all.

At this point in time, my heart was bleeding deep down inside. Instead of pumping the regular blood it was meant for, it started to produce tears that soon forced their way out of my weary eyes.

“Tunde, please!” I swallowed my pride and begged, attempting to descend the staircase just so I could follow him, but he was considerably faster than I was. He paid deaf ears to my plea and continued to thread his way down the staircase, slamming his fists against the wall at intervals. He was so vexed and so heartbroken.

“Handsome.” I called out, failing at every attempt I made by trying to bat my eyelashes to suppress the flow of tears that poured down my cheeks like a mighty waterfall. “Please! Please I’m begging you! I am s-s-sorry!”

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