“You are healthy.”
The doctor’s words echoed in her mind.
She placed her other hand over her heart. “God, if you ever saw my tears, show the world that I was never the problem.”
Weeks later, a man named Emma came into her life.
He first appeared at her food stand one busy morning. He was tall, with kind eyes and a quiet smile. He wore a white shirt tucked into brown trousers and carried a small black laptop bag.
“Two plates, please,” he said. “Your jollof smells too good to pass.”
Goi served him. “Spicy or normal?”
“Very spicy,” he replied with a grin. “I like my food to fight back.”
That made her laugh.
His name was Emma, and he worked at an office nearby. At first, he was only a customer. Then he became a regular. Then a familiar smile. Then a gentle presence that somehow kept making her day softer.
