I got this interesting (on DBN) and I decided to share it here...
happy reading!!!

She thought it'd be nice if she made something 'local'. Egwusi soup perhaps.
But she hasn't seen him eat that before. She hasn't even seen him eat anything. Before that Friday of last week she never could have imagined there was still a possibility for her to feel this way again.
Every heartbreak came with a different kind of torture, and its accompanying decision. Ujunwa has had them enough to be sure she was never going to feel anything for any man again.
The last one had been two years ago. It might as well be the worst. He had come with a refreshing sugariness at the start, a deep promise of hope. His name had been Ireti, something alike, something that had ‘hope’ in its meaning.
He told her that he was going to replenish all the love she has lost in the past. And she so believed him. So she had given it her all, as she always did.
She had always told herself, 'Uju, you are not that tall or beautiful to be so choosy.' And so she returned love with immense gratitude. She always obeyed, endured, whatever it required to make it last. Her dream was to finally one day become a wife. She would then know that she has finally won. She would call it her victory.
But Ujunwa was always defeated, sometimes even before the battle took off.
That day she discovered Ireti had been married, a beautiful wife and two lovely girls, she didn't cry as she did a year earlier when Ikenna disappeared to Malaysia with all her money.
She gently pulled off the ring he had engaged her with and dropped it on the table before him, his wife and kids. The whole staff of Tantalizers was watching.
Without a word, to him or his wife, she walked back to the front and picked her order.
Inside her blue Corolla, she turned the player on and Beyonce's Halo started where it had stopped when she parked the car. She quickly changed the song.

She turned the volume high and sang along to the chorus as led by Pink, 'So, so what? I'm still a rock star, I got my rock moves...'
In her flat, she didn't cry either. It has always been the ritual whenever it happened, but that day she was feeling different. An overwhelming sense of control engulfed her.
She poured herself a glass from the bottle she had bought earlier, the one she'd kept specially for their meeting that evening.
She poured a glassful into her mouth and poured out another which she drank up quickly again. She lifted the glass and hurled it at the wall above her TV. It shattered.
As she picked the tiny glass pieces, she envisioned them as the pieces of her heart so she picked them with delicate care.
That evening when she threw away the trash with the glass pieces inside, she was sure she had thrown away her heart. And she felt so good afterwards. The thought that 'it' would never happen again.
It had ever worked so because since the morning that followed that day, she saw men differently. The cuter they appear, the more nauseating they made her feel. And when they try to be nice, she only felt pity for them.
But the Friday of last week has changed something, if not everything. She was surprised. The harder she tried putting on the barricading thoughts, the more he crumbled them. Without effort.
'I'm so sorry, my dear, I wasn't looking,' he'd said to her as he bent to pick her papers which he'd knocked off.
'Please, don't be so mad at me, you see--'
She jerked the papers and cards from him. She raised a wary eye at him. 'Thanks,' she said, ever so grudgingly. She started to rearrange her file.
'Can I help you with that?'
She gave him another look and walked off. She was already at the gate of her office building when he called, 'Miss?'
She turned, doing nothing to mask her impatience.
'Please can I get your card?'
Her brows came together. 'What for?'
'Well, you see, I just started with the Green--' He pointed at the next building. '...apparently we are neighbors. I mean since you work with Armac's, we...we can...it'd just be nice if we connect.'
She noticed he was tense. His forehead had grown sweaty. It might have been this feeble show of vulnerability that got her interested. She wondered if men blush so visibly. But then she also noticed that he was good-looking. She ridded herself of the thought quickly.
She was surprised at herself that she didn't feel nauseated.
'Well, I don't work here,' she said.
'Oh, you don't?'
'I work with Armac's, yes, but not this branch. I'm only here to--' She remembered she doesn't have much time. She opened her purse and handed him a white card.
He looked at it. Ujunwa Okolo. Head, Corporate Communications.
He nodded. He raised his face and saw that she was gone. He half smiled.
When he called that evening, she was quick to notice he's got back his cool. He sounded so in control, so a man.

‘Helo.’ He had to say this a few times.
‘Who’s this?’
‘My name is Ayo. I’d like to speak to Miss O-ju-n-wa please.’ She felt slightly amused at the way he called her name.
She had guessed but she still asked, ‘May I know who Ayo is?’ She had put on her ‘edited’ voice, the one she used to talk to clients at work.
‘I was the guy that knocked off your papers in front of your Armac’s building.’
‘The blind guy, I see.’
She heard an appropriate chuckle. ‘I’d have to say that I’m sorry again.’
She hummed. ‘It’s ok. So why are you calling me?’
‘Oh, I’m just calling to say hi.’
She was surprised he replied so fast.
‘Okay. I’d say thanks then.’
‘You need not to.’
‘What?’
‘It’s a delight hearing from you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Bye, angel.’
He ended the call before she could do it herself. She felt beaten.
He called her every day after that till finally they were laughing and arguing on the phone.
The last time they spent over an hour on the phone. She was cooking but she had had to turn off the gas and walk out to the sitting room.
After they shared a bout of laughter he made about his white boss, his voice turned serious as he told her he needed to see her, that he has something to tell her. She tried but he insisted it wasn’t something they’d talk about on the phone.
Finally the Saturday of their meeting had come. An unusual feeling had been with her all day. Something close to excitement, laced with apprehension.

to be continued.........

She waited for the knock to come again.
She opened the door. As surprising as interesting as it is, he was dressed rather sporty, in a white and black striped Polo shirt and dark grey chinos. With his blue Vans trainers, he created the impression of a UNILAG student.
'Good evening.' They said this together.
She smiled and he chuckled, revealing sparkling, well-set teeth. 'Can I come in?' he said.
'Of course.' She showed him in.
He looked round the room. 'Beautiful place.'
'Thank you.'
He moved close to a painting of her on the wall. 'Your mum?'
Her eyes got wide. 'That's me.'
'Oh. The painter should refund you then.'
Interest flickered in her eyes. 'You think it's not nice?'
He said nothing. Then he gave a tiny shrug. ‘Not done well.’
‘What?’
He turned back to her. ‘I see beauty not fully represented.’
She couldn’t help but pull down her eyes. She’d felt a discomforting rush of emotion. Something she hadn’t felt for so long a time, never knew she could still feel. She nearly became angry with herself.
Matters worsening, he took her hand. His palm was soft and warm, almost feminine. 'I'll paint you finer,' he said.
'If I let you.' She took back her hand, hoping he hadn’t noticed they’d grown sweaty in his touch.
'Of course,' he said. ‘I will beg if need be.’
Change the topic now, a voice said in her head. 'I made stew,' she said
'What?'
'I made stew in case you are hungry.'
'Oh I am.'
At the table, his eyes lingered on her all the while they ate.
She felt so weak under his stare. She couldn’t describe how she was feeling. There was just too many emotions whirling up inside her. She thought of herself stupid for allowing the situation in the first place.
‘So what is it that you have to tell me that can’t be said over the phone?’
He dropped his fork suddenly, as if startled. She guessed her voice had come out a little too harsh.
He stared at her.
She watched him. She could have sworn his eyes were growing watery.
Did he lose someone? She tried hard to make sure her face was soft enough.
He was taking so long to speak.
‘Alex? Are you okay?’ she asked. They had promised to refer to each other by their English names on the phone— he would call her Grace and she would call him Alex.
He blinked but not a word still.
‘Alex?’ She prayed his lips doesn’t burst open and he would begin to wail.
But he didn’t. He pushed his chair back and stood. He walked across the table and took her hand. He guided her up and took her other hand so that they now faced each other.
Her mind went blank.
‘I love you, Grace.’
She jerked her hands away from him in reflex. ‘Alex, what are you saying?’
‘Ever since that day at the garden, I’ve been in love with you.’
‘What are you talking about? Which garden?’
‘GV. Palm Estate.’
Her eyes went narrow. She was at GV Gardens two years ago or so. With Ireti. It was their usual hang-out place.
‘Alex, the last time I was at GV Gardens was two or so years ago, so what are you saying?’
‘Yes. May 12. You wore a purple gown.’
Her eyes ran wide.
‘You were there with my brother. I came to drop his dry cleaning. You called me the dark version of Lynx.’
Awareness hit her. ‘Yes, yes. You were the young graduate that was supposed to travel to London the next day for a training.’
He smiled. ‘Yes.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. He wore it. ‘Remember me now?’ He touched his shaved head. ‘The hair is gone—I took your advice and got rid of it, but this is how I looked that day. Remember?’
She smiled. ‘You were so young then. And it was just two years, how come—’
He chuckled. ‘I was never that young. Dapo was only two years older than me.’
‘Dapo?’
‘My brother.’
‘Oh. He told me his name was Ireti.’
His face dulled. ‘He did?’
‘Yes. Your brother is a crook.’
He quickly took her hand. ‘Forget my brother. I learnt everything but I’m here for you now.’ He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
The act was over before she could pull off a protest.