Chapter One

This is the second part of the story and if you read the first one I know you think you already know how this one is going to go, and I know you're dreading it.

But I'm here to tell you that whatever it is that you think you know — whatever notions you've carried over here — is false.

Do not let what you have previously read prejudice you. While the lessons of the first story inform this one, what you are about to read is a completely different story with different versions of the same people. This is a story about perseverance, about rising from the ashes of ruination, but more than that it is a story of love.

If you think that every love story starts out without a few bumps on the road then you're more delusional than I thought.

Bumps are what make anything in life interesting, what make us appreciate the little things.

And ultimately that's what this story is about.

Appreciation.

• • •

Seven Years Later . . .

“Ow!” I exclaimed and turned to glare at the woman behind me. “You're styling my hair not washing jeans. Take it a little easier please.”

Celine brandished the straightener and planted her hand on her hip. “Honey, if beauty was easy you wouldn't be here. Now be a good girl and turn back around.” Her hazel eyes dared me to challenge her.

Mildly offended, I turned back to my brightly lit vanity that was littered with various makeup products.

Staring at the mirror I was almost unrecognizable with my smoky eyes and blue contacts. My hair was still in big poofy rollers and I was yet to see what Celine's intention was with it to warrant such aggressive tugging.

“You know she's right,” came a voice from my almost forgotten iPad that was propped precariously on the edge of the table because that was the only space I could find. “Beauty is pain.”

Alex took another spoonful from her pudding cup and ran a hand through her long dark brown hair.

“Thank you,” Celine interjected with another pull on my scalp that made me wince unattractively. “By the way, you have no idea how honored I am that you agree with me.”

Typical Alex, she blushed and waved a dismissal hand.

“Careful,” I told Celine, directing my full gaze at her reflection. “One more of those and I'll start to think you're kissing ass.”

Celine stuck a tongue out at me in reply.

I steered my attention back to Alex. “Anyway, isn't that, like, your second pudding cup? Thought you were on a diet?”

“Yes to both, but what J-Lo doesn't know can't hurt me.” She emphasized her point by brushing off bits of tortilla chips from her pajamas.

I shook my head at my friend's antic.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would even meet Alexandra Miller not to mention befriending her.

She was all over the news when she married billionaire playboy and CEO of the biggest high-tech company in the world, Carson Miller, but that wasn't what made her so respected.

It was that she was a saint compared to rest of us. Instead of doing nothing with her newfound influence she opted to start countless charities, opened different shelters and generally tried to make this shitty world a little better for those who got the worst of it.

Me? Aside from the more efficient method of waste disposal I helped perfect with my friends right out of the university, I couldn't compare with all the good she's done.

That was literally all I'd done for the world, the rest was for myself.

Studying Chemistry, entering the pageant that I emerged as a representative of Nigeria in the Miss World pageant, winning Miss World, throwing all other possible career options away to become a model, all that was for me.

I was amazed at how nonchalant I was about leaving a lasting legacy, despite that being in my masterplan.

“Not that I don't enjoy our chats, Amara darling, but I do have a reason for video chatting.”

“Aw, you didn't call because you missed your good friend?” I tilted my head and pouted my lip-glossed lips.

I paid for that by having my head yanked back into place by Celine.

“Jesus Christ, woman,” I glowered at her through the mirror.

The annoying woman had the nerve to just shrug.

“Of course I missed you, but more importantly, I got a call from the guys at marketing, apparently they would be over the moon happy if they could get the entire cast together for some publicity thing.”

“Marketing? But we wrapped up the movie about a year ago,” I reached up to massage the place in my scalp that was beginning to sting and got my hand swatted away by Celine.

Honestly, I was beginning to think Celine just enjoyed antagonizing me.

“Yeah, but apparently we're eligible for some award and the powers that be want more pictures of Riger,” her perfectly sculptured eyebrows wiggled.

I groaned.

I'd met Alex at the audition for the movie. I had never acted before and I wanted to give it a shot.

I was very sure I screwed it up until I was given the role of Rita Bowling, the lead scientist of a secret organization. Granted she was more of a side character but now I had one foot in the movie industry.

“Pictures of what?”

“You know, Rita and Roger, silly! Don't lie, those two characters were adorable together.”

“I agree but I don't think I can make it,” I gestured toward my face and hair to show I was busy.

“Oh don't be ridiculous, it's not today. It's in a week, in France. My mother-in-law is having some bash over there that I have to attend that's why I'm going. Come on Amara, don't let me do this alone.”

“You won't be alone. What about the rest of the cast?”

“They all RSVPed, you're the only one left.”

“You're being very dramatic, Alex.”

“Can I just say that that sounds like fun,” Celine voiced from behind me. “I would go to that.”

“Hush! Anyway, I'm currently booked for the entirety of this month. I'm in Milan right now posing for Vogue and then after that I have to see my people about my perfume launch . . .”

“Alright, alright,” Alex waved her arms. “No need to recite your entire schedule,” she huffed. “Jesus Christ, sweetie, when do you rest?”

“I'll rest when I'm dead.”

I ignored Celine's pointed look as Alex gasped.

“Don't say that. It's not funny.”

At that moment my iPad vibrated with another call and I reached out and grabbed it before it fell face-first to the floor.

The number that popped up carried the International phone code from home and I smiled. I knew just who it was.

“Oh, I see that smile, is it Fred?” Alex's enthusiasm was palpable.

I scoffed. “Of course not. He knows that he can't call before eight, in any time zone.”

“I feel like you're missing the point of having a fiancé.”

At the word the weight of the diamond ring on my left hand became more noticeable and I rubbed my thumb across it unconsciously.

I tried not to think about my personal life when I was working so it was easy to forget that I was going to get married.

“Well, bye. Say hi to the rest of the girls for me,” I immediately cut the call and picked the incoming one.

“Girl,” Yemisi's face zoomed about on my screen before focusing. “Guess what?”

Yemisi Agbaje-Coker had been my friend since my stint at the Lagos Business School. Her family owned a big fashion company but Yemisi was a full time Instagram influencer. She took a course at business school to please her parents and that was where we met.

She was a bit of a party animal but she was the sweetest little angel. And recently she was one of the few connections to Nigeria that I hadn't blocked.

“You finally stopped procrastinating and got that BBL?”

She shrank back. “Are you kidding me? I told you that was a joke, Jesus! I am never going under a knife, period. Anyway, that's not it, guess again.”

“Um . . .” I started raking my brain.

“Don't bother, I'll tell you,” she raised her left hand. “Harry finally proposed! We're getting married.”

I leaned forward to look at her ring and shrieked in happiness with her.

“Oh my God!” I told her when we'd calmed a little. “I had no idea. He never mentioned it, not that I'm not happy he took some initiative but he tells me everything.”

Harry, her boyfriend turned fiancé, was my friend too. In fact I was the one that got them together.

He was laid-back and on the heels of a bad breakup from his long-term girlfriend and she was wild and searching for a steady relationship. I had pit them together just to see what would come out and was pleasantly surprised they had hit it off.

“You and I know exactly why Harry didn't mention anything. Because it's none of your business, homie.”

“There,” Celine announced and took her hands out of my hair. “Finally done. Congratulations on being the worst client ever.”

It was my turn to stick my tongue out at her retreating figure.

I checked my hair in the mirror. The curls were dark as night and fell in voluminous curls around my face, enhancing the gentle oval shape.

Even though Celine was arguably the most annoying hair stylist the world had ever produced, she was good at it.

“So,” Yemisi pulled me back to our conversation. “You know I love you, right? There's a spot open for you on my bridal train and it has the title Chief Bridesmaid, what do you say?”

“I don't know, Yem . . .”

“Fine, maid of honour? Come on, you can't say no to maid of honour.”

I didn't want to as I twirled my ring around my finger.

The problem with saying yes to be in Yemisi's train would involve me travelling to Nigeria and staying there which, to be honest, I wasn't ready for.

Luckily, I didn't have to respond immediately because the photographer stuck his head in and motioned for me to come out.

“I gotta go, Yem. I'm happy for you, really but I don't think I would be able to make it. I'm super busy, but if anything changes I'll let you know.”

Yemisi sighed, her green contacts catching the light of a lamp. “It's ok. Love you.”

I blew her a kiss and cut the call.

Making my way to the golden backdrop set for the shoot, I was helped out of the loose flowery kimono I wore and stepped up in only a golden one-piece and matching gold heels.

This was the peak of my career and as I posed in front of the bright lights I reminded myself that I was doing what I wanted and that was enough for me.

Sometime between posing and looking at the pictures that had been taken my eyes wandered up and connected with a pair blue eyes peeping from across the room.

My throat dried instantly as the handsome man put his finger to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” I mouthed, my mood rapidly lifting.

He beckoned me forward and after I looked to make sure the photographer wasn't paying attention I slipped forward and with a giggle walked right into the arms of my fiancé.

He spun me around and dropped me.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in LA?”

My questions were answered by a kiss.

I closed my eyes and savoured Fred's sweet, supple lips.

“I was, but I missed you so much baby,” he answered as his messy brown hair flopped in waves over his glowing eyes. “I just had to see you and give you these.”

He handed me a brown paper bag and immediately I opened it the sweet aroma of donuts filled my face.

“Double frosted donuts!” I put my hand to my heart. “You spoil me.”

“Only the best,” he kissed my hair. “Since I'm here why don't we take a midnight car ride around Milan?”

“I don't know,” I looked back. “I'm not sure I'm done here.”

He pouted those plump pink lips. “Come on, pretty please. We could talk about wedding stuff.”

I laughed. “Fine, I'll tell them it's getting late and I should run.”

He pumped his fist like a little boy. “Yes! I'll go get the car,” he kissed me on my temple and left.

I stood there clutching the warm bag wondering why this feeling of uneasiness had settled in the pit of my stomach.