Because silence reminded him of her absence.
On the fourth day, he saw her.
Not at the market. Not at her stall.
But by the river path, standing alone, watching the water move like it had answers she didn’t.
He stopped behind her.
“Amara.”
She didn’t turn immediately.
Then slowly, she did.
“You came,” she said softly.
“I always come.”
She nodded slightly. “But not always at the right time.”
A quiet pause stretched between them.
No teasing.
No laughter.
Just truth.
“I heard what they said,” she finally spoke.
Namdi stepped closer. “And?”
“And I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either.”
She turned fully to face him now.
“Your life is not small, Namdi.”
“I never said it was.”
“It’s loud.”
“I know.”
“It pulls people in.”
He nodded slowly. “I know that too.”
Amara looked down at her hands. “I don’t want to get lost inside it.”
Namdi’s voice softened. “You won’t.”
She looked up. “How can you be sure?”
He took a step closer. “Because I’m not asking you to enter my world alone.”
Silence.
The river kept flowing.
The wind moved gently through her hair.
Then Namdi reached into his pocket.
Amara noticed immediately.
Her breath slowed slightly.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer.
He pulled out a small black box.
Simple.
No loud design.
No unnecessary shine.
Just intentional.
Amara froze. “Namdi…”
He opened it.
Inside was a ring.
Elegant. Gold. Quietly powerful.
Like everything he had become when he was with her.
He looked at her directly.
“I didn’t plan this in a boardroom,” he said.
She said nothing.
“I didn’t ask my lawyers. I didn’t call my partners.”
A faint breath escaped her.
“I just kept thinking about you not being there.”
Her eyes flickered.
“I don’t want a life where I only see you when I escape,” he continued. “I want a life where you’re there when I return.”
Amara’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
For once, she had none ready.
Namdi stepped closer, lowering his voice.
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