Lami was a woman in love, and for the first time in a very long time, she wasn't hiding it. Her face glowed, her laughter came easily, and a spring had returned to her step. Kemi, who had witnessed her friend’s cyclical descent into dating despair for years, was pleasantly surprised. She saw how happy Baari made Lami, and for that, she was glad. But she was a realist, and she had seen too many promising beginnings turn into bitter endings to completely let her guard down.

It was during a girl’s night out that Kemi's lingering doubts began to surface more clearly. They were at a vibrant new restaurant, the air buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. Lami was texting Baari, a soft smile on her face. Amara and Ngozi were deep in conversation about a recent work project.

Kemi leaned over to Lami, her voice low. “So, when are you going to meet his family?”

Lami looked up from her phone, a slight frown creasing her brow. “We haven’t really talked about it. He’s very close to them, and I don’t want to rush anything.”

“You’ve been dating for months,” Kemi said, her tone gentle but firm. “You met his friends, he met ours. A man who is serious about you introduces you to his people. It's a big deal.”

Lami’s stomach tightened. She thought back to the picture she had seen on Instagram, the fleeting hesitation in Baari’s voice when she had asked about his "brother and his wife." She had pushed the thought away, but now, hearing Kemi's words, the unease returned.

“He's just busy,” Lami said, a little too quickly. “His job is really demanding. He's always on site.”

Kemi looked at her, her eyes soft with concern. "Lami, don't make excuses for him. A man who wants to see you will make time. It’s not about being busy; it’s about making you a priority.”

The conversation shifted to other topics, but Kemi’s words lingered in Lami’s mind like a persistent hum. She tried to shake them off. Kemi didn’t know Baari the way she did. Kemi didn’t know how he looked at her when she was just sitting there, how he remembered the smallest details about her life, how he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. He was a different kind of man. He was her man.

A few days later, Lami was at home, working on a new design project. She had a looming deadline and was in the zone, her mind completely focused on the vibrant colour palette on her screen. She hadn’t heard from Baari all day, which was unusual. She sent him a quick text, just to say she was thinking of him.

He replied almost instantly. “Hey, my love. Sorry, I’m in a really long meeting. I'll call you as soon as I can. Miss you.”

Lami’s heart fluttered. The "my love" was a new term of endearment, and it filled her with a rush of warmth. She went back to her work, a smile on her face.

Later that evening, the phone call she had been waiting for didn't come. She checked the time. It was past 10 p.m. He was probably still in that meeting, or maybe he had just fallen asleep. She decided not to call, not wanting to seem needy.

The next day, she woke up to a message from him. “I’m so sorry, Lami. That meeting ran so late, and I was completely exhausted. I fell asleep the second I got home. Can I make it up to you with a dinner date tonight?”

Lami’s brief disappointment vanished. His apology was sincere, and the offer of a date was more than enough to make her forgive his absence. He was a busy, dedicated man. That was a good thing, right?

Their dinner date that night was as perfect as ever. Baari was attentive, and he listened to her talk about her work and her friends, and he even remembered a small detail about a problem she had mentioned a week ago and asked if she had solved it. He made her feel seen and important.

During the meal, he said, “I know you’ve been wanting to meet my family. I’m thinking we can have you over for a barbecue next weekend. My mother is an amazing cook, and I know you’ll love her.”

Lami’s face lit up. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. The moment her friends had been waiting for. He was making her a part of his world, not just a visitor. She felt a wave of triumphant joy. She wasn't crazy. Kemi was wrong.

“I would love that,” she said, her voice filled with a happy tremor.

The next few days were a blur of excitement. Lami went shopping for a new outfit, and she even got a new hairdo, wanting to make the best possible impression on his family. She called her mother to tell her the good news. Her mother was overjoyed. “I knew you would find a good one, Lami,” she said, and Lami felt a quiet sense of validation.

On Saturday morning, Lami was dressed and ready, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She sent Baari a text: "Ready when you are!"

A minute later, her phone rang. It was him.

“Hey, my love,” he said, his voice sounding tired.

“Hey! I’m ready! Are you on your way?” she asked, her voice cheerful.

There was a long pause. Lami’s smile faltered.

“Lami, I’m so, so sorry. Something came up. A family emergency. My uncle had a heart attack and he’s in the hospital. I have to go to the city. My parents are already there. I’m so sorry.”

The words hit Lami like a physical blow. The air seemed to leave her lungs. Her carefully constructed perfect world came crashing down. “Oh,” she said, her voice small. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. Is he okay?”

“We don’t know yet,” he said, his voice laced with what sounded like genuine distress. “I have to go. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Please, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Lami said, her eyes welling up with tears she didn’t understand. “Go. Be with your family.”

He hung up, and Lami stood in the middle of her apartment, the new dress and the perfectly styled hair suddenly feeling ridiculous. The excitement she had felt just minutes before was gone, replaced by a hollow, aching emptiness. It was a familiar feeling, one she hadn't experienced since before she met him. It was the feeling of disappointment, of a promise unfulfilled.

She called Kemi. Kemi answered on the second ring.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, hearing the tremor in Lami’s voice.

Lami explained everything, the family barbecue, the sudden cancellation, the supposed heart attack. She was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince Kemi.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Then, Kemi's voice, flat and unamused. “Lami, are you serious?”

“What? He's with his family. His uncle is in the hospital.”

“Lami,” Kemi said, her voice full of an exasperated pity. “You can’t see it, can you? It’s a lie. It's a classic move. The ‘family emergency.’ He doesn’t want you to meet his family.”

Lami’s world tilted. The thought was so cruel, so unbelievable, that she couldn't accept it. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t know that. You don’t know him. His voice sounded so worried.”

“Of course, it did,” Kemi said, her voice hardening. “He’s a good liar. Look at the pattern, Lami. He says he’ll do something, something always comes up, and then he finds a way to make you feel bad for even questioning him. He’s controlling the narrative. He’s keeping you on a leash.”

Lami hung up the phone, her heart pounding. She was furious. Furious at Kemi for being so cynical, for trying to ruin her happiness, and furious at herself for letting her words get to her. She wanted to believe Baari. She needed to believe him. The alternative was too painful to consider.

She spent the rest of the weekend in a state of quiet despair. She tried calling Baari, but his phone went straight to voicemail. She sent him texts, asking for updates on his uncle, but he didn’t reply. The silence was deafening. It was a stark contrast to the constant communication they had shared, and it left her feeling lost and alone.

On Sunday night, she got a message from him. “I’m sorry, my love. It’s been a crazy weekend. My uncle is stable, thank God. I’ve been with my family. I’ve missed you so much.” The message was filled with emojis—a praying hands emoji, a tearful face, and a big red heart.

Lami’s anger melted away, replaced by relief. See? Kemi was wrong. He was just a good man dealing with a difficult situation. He wasn’t a liar. He was her love. The little voice of doubt, so loud just a day ago, was now a tiny whisper, easily silenced by the soothing sound of his messages. She was still in the fairy tale, and she had just convinced herself that the dragon wasn't real. Not yet.