She was there again.
            They were at a church in Manchester. She was seated at the front, dressed in white and looking almost angelic in a blindingly white dress. A peacock-looking hat perched on the side of her head, her eyes fixated on the pastor, her pen furiously scribbling in her notepad as she followed every word he uttered.
            Micah couldn’t stop staring at her. And it wasn’t just because of her flawless mocha skin and incredible body. There was a grace to the way she moved, like she was fully comfortable in her body.
            “Sorry, is that seat taken?” A blonde lady asked him, cutting off his thoughts and forcing him to focus on something other than the stranger who he couldn’t keep his eyes off. Her grey eyes both questioning and hopeful.
            He shook his head and stood up to allow her to move into the empty seat. She offered him a smile of thanks and focused on the pastor whose salt and pepper hair, despite being well groomed, failed to hide the excess thinning that comes with old age.
            Micah sat down and tried to do the same but it wasn’t long before his eyes strayed back to the lady in white.
            He had been watching her for the past month and a half, coming to every service in the hopes of catching sight of her.
            She smiled all the time and was courteous to everyone. She was in the choir and a great dancer, moving her small frame in tune with the beats from the drummer.
            Micah shifted his eyes back to the pastor. He was determined to at least catch a couple of words of what he was saying. He was talking about God’s perfect timing in everything. That God had His calendar for things to happen in their lives and nothing was coincidental as the world liked to think.
            Micah wondered if this was perhaps God’s timing for him. His cousin, Demi, had forced him to take a train ride from London to Manchester over a month ago for the duration of his brief vacation from his Master’s program. And then Demi had invited him to church and since he saw her, she was all he could think about. Finding himself hopping on a train any weekend he could, taking the three hour journey to see her, fantasising about what talking to her would feel like.
            For the past few weeks, he’d told himself that each Sunday would be the day he walked up to her, introduced himself and finally asked her out to lunch and each Sunday, he chickened out, too shy to make the move.
            “Oh for goodness sake, would you give it a rest and just talk to her, Micah,” his cousin furiously whispered, jolting Micah from his obsessive staring.
            “I’m not so sure,” he replied over the sound of his racing heart. The truth was he was also scared of what being in a relationship again would look like after the mess his last one had deteriorated into. And moreover, he wasn’t even sure if a relationship with her could work.
            He shook his head. “How would this relationship work sef? I overheard her talking the other day. She has a British accent. Would she now up and leave her life here? Abi, I will move over to the UK to live here?”  Voicing it aloud iterated how silly considering a relationship with her was.
            It could never work.
            “You never know,” Demi maintained. “She might be the one. And if you guys marry, you just might really become a Britico,” she continued, winking at him.
            He looked at her, slightly irritated. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”
            “I know, silly. I’m just pulling your legs. No need to get annoyed.”
            When Micah finally did ask her out a week later, she smiled shyly at him and agreed to go to lunch with him after service.
            That day was one of the best of his life. They had lunch at 19 Café Bar and headed off to Piccadilly Gardens – strolling around the park and taking in the historical buildings but mostly talking with an ease that elated him.
            Her voice, contradictingly soft and raspy despite the strong Mancunian lilt, enraptured him.
            “So, how long have you lived here?” he asked as they strolled despite the chill in the air.
            “All my life,” she countered. “My parents moved here a long time ago. I was born here.”
            “Do you ever think of going to Nigeria?”
            She exhaled a foggy breath and he caught a whiff of the minty gum she chewed. “I don’t know, actually, I have thought about it but not seriously. I mean, my mum and dad don’t go often so I never really considered it. My life is here, unless God says otherwise.”
            Kiki looked at him and smiled.
            He smiled back.