He dialed the wrong number. But fate answered.
Imani was used to boring evenings — helping her aunt at the salon, then scrolling TikTok until sleep came. That night was different.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
“Hello?” she answered.
A pause. Then a voice — low and calm.
“Sorry, wrong number.”
She was about to hang up when he added, “But… you sound kind.”
Imani smiled. “Maybe I am.”
That five-minute mistake turned into a two-hour conversation. His name was Malik, a 20-year-old IT student from Nairobi. From that night on, they talked every day.
No selfies. No filters. Just voices and hearts.
Weeks passed. The connection grew.
Malik made her laugh like no one else. He knew her dreams, her fears, her past. She knew his too.
One night, he whispered, “You feel like home.”
Imani didn’t reply.
But her heart already had.
Then came the visit.
Malik traveled to Mombasa to finally meet her. He brought flowers. She wore her best smile.
They spent three days together — and it felt like a dream.
Until Imani overheard him on a call:
“She doesn’t know I found her through that WhatsApp group.”
Her world cracked.
Confrontation.
“You lied,” she said.
Malik lowered his eyes. “Yes. I saw your photo in a group. I made the call… hoping it’d be you.”
Silence.
“But I swear—every word after that was real.”
Imani walked away, heart torn between betrayal and love.
Days passed. Then one message.
“If I could go back, I’d start honestly. But I won’t regret loving you.”
Imani didn’t reply.
Until one rainy evening, she surprised him in Nairobi.
He looked up — stunned.
“I came to return something,” she said.
“What?”
She smiled.
“The love you gave me.”
Some stories don’t begin the right way.
But they still end beautifully.
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