The Abuja skyline glittered under a crescent moon as Mike sat alone in his small apartment, the city's buzz faint beyond his window. The excitement of the incubator program had faded into a gnawing loneliness. The weight of new responsibilities pressed heavily on his shoulders, but heavier still was the absence of Danika.
He scrolled through old messages, her words like echoes from a life that now felt distant. The silence between their conversations grew louder with each passing day, a chasm widening beyond his control.
Back in Lagos, Danika stood in front of the shop mirror, adjusting the strands of hair on a mannequin. The reflection staring back was tired, worn by sleepless nights and endless worry.
Her mother's latest visit had left scars deeper than before. Harsh words and old grievances had resurfaced, each argument chipping away at Danika's resolve.
Her phone vibrated. A message from Mike:
"I miss you. We need to find a way."
She typed back, fingers trembling:
"Me too. But sometimes it feels like we're already lost."
Days later, a surprise visit from Lance brought a brief moment of comfort. Over cups of strong tea in Danika's cramped kitchen, they spoke candidly about love, sacrifice, and the price of dreams.
"Love's not always enough," Lance admitted. "But it's the reason we keep trying."
Danika nodded, tears glistening. "I just don't know if trying is enough anymore."
Meanwhile, Mike wrestled with the demands of the incubator and his heart's desires. The pressure to succeed clashed with the fear of losing Danika to the distance and the shadows of her past.
A late-night call from Danika shattered his resolve.
"I'm scared, Mike," she whispered. "Scared of what the future holds… for us."
He held the phone tightly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"We'll find our way back. I promise."