A cupid romance? not on my watch!

Some love stories end with a kiss. Others end with a bucket of water—especially near my house.

I sat on my balcony, watching them throw flying kisses at each other. Neither wanted to be the first to let go of the other’s hands. They were so intertwined, it was as if they didn’t know how to exist separately.

I had been watching them for weeks. It all started when Chike moved into the empty apartment directly in front of mine. That was the first day he saw Agnes. She lived beside his apartment, so when their love began, it wasn’t hard for me to witness all the shenanigans that followed.

At first, there were the awkward greetings. Then came the exchange of names, followed by late-night sneaking out, which was necessary because Agnes, at 24, lived with her family.

Sometimes, they sat right in front of my door, professing their undying love for each other, invading my space. Every time they did that, I had to lower my TV volume just to properly hear how far gone they were in their cringeworthy romance.

Chike had promised her marriage because, as a man in his late twenties, he was ready to settle down. She had giggled silently in acceptance. It was clear she was head over heels in love with him.

And I could tell he felt the same way about her.

Every evening at 7 PM, she would step out of her house, and they’d walk around the estate, holding hands, and stylishly bumping into each other… I know this because I followed them on some days. I was too deep into their romance and needed to see where it was headed.

On nights when they sat in front of my door, I’d move my beanbag to the other side, just so I could hear the latest updates in their relationship.

The last time I did that, they were making plans for their first kiss. I had noticed how shy Agnes got whenever Chike tried to initiate one. She claimed she had never kissed anyone before and didn’t want to disappoint him. Each time, he assured her it wouldn’t matter; he would take the lead.

He failed to convince her. Every. Single. Time.

But that fateful night, they had a plan. They would kiss in front of my house. Maybe it was because my front light wasn’t working. Maybe they thought no one lived here. Or maybe, just maybe, they mistook it for the sacred temple of Cupid, where hopeless romantics come to have their love stories blessed. Or maybe it was because of the flowers I had placed outside to make my space look warm and inviting.

Funny how, despite all that effort, those flowers never attracted anyone to me.

I never got visitors, sadly.

That night, I made preparations. I bathed early, applied some body mist, and got comfortable. I was just as excited about their first kiss as they were. After all, I had been watching them for a while. At this point, I considered myself a part of the relationship.

Then, finally

“Hi, Agnes.”

I ran to my balcony, almost tripping over my couch. It was time.

“Hi, Chike. I’m sorry I’m late. I had to clean up the kitchen.”

“It’s fine. You’re here now,” he said, his voice calm.

My excitement skyrocketed. They were about to have their first kiss, and I was about to be their witness.

They chatted for a while, swinging their hands back and forth as they held them. I could tell they were nervous. I was nervous for them.

Chike kept staring at her lips as she talked about her experience with the suya man at the gate. He didn’t care about any of that; it was obvious.

And then, it was time.

I grinned, gripping the handle of my bucket.

I watched as he cupped her face and stared into her eyes. Slowly, he pulled her face toward his, tilting her head so their lips would meet perfectly in the middle.

“Oh my God, oh my God.” My insides screamed in joy.

They were taking forever, like the slow motions in kdramas.

But finally, their lips brushed

And that was when I poured the bucket of water on them.

Not in my house would this atrocity take place.

They shrieked and jumped, scrambling to their feet.

“Jesus!” Agnes screamed, shaking water off her arms.

Chike gasped, looked up at the sky, and squeezed the water off his shirt as if waiting for an explanation.

Then, in a moment of pure cinematic perfection, he lost his balance and slipped. Agnes tried to catch him. She slipped too.

I had to cover my mouth so they wouldn’t hear me laughing.

“This is cinema,” I said silently to myself.

They frantically searched the area, looking for the culprit, but saw no one.

I sat back, satisfied. My work here was done.

Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a hater. I was a helper.

I was helping Agnes’ husband—yes, husband—who was crippled and locked up inside the house. He had been watching them, too, from his bedroom window.

All I did was grant him justice. And give him enough time to wheel himself outside to catch them in the act.

Not all heroes wear capes, yunno. Some just own a bucket.

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Thanks for reading🫶🏽

Today’s Valentine… No one cares!

Stay in your house🫵🏽

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