Chapter 5 Proof Over Promises

Tyler wasn't about to beg.

Not in public, not through text, and definitely not with flowers.

He knew Zara.

She didn't fall for roses and long paragraphs.

She fell for consistency.

So he started with silence.

Intentional silence.

No posts. No quotes. No online thirst traps to remind her of what she lost.

Instead, he did what she never expected:

He showed up at her charity event-unannounced, uninvited, but not unprepared.

Zara was on stage, giving a speech about empowering women in corporate leadership, glowing in a sleek white dress, her voice clear and confident.

Tyler stood quietly at the back of the hall in a black suit, no entourage, no cameras, just presence.

He didn't say a word.

Didn't wave.

Just watched.

And when the event ended, he left.

No note. No drama.

Zara noticed.

Of course she did.

She tried to ignore the way her heart stuttered when she caught him disappearing into the night like a ghost from her past.

Three days later, a bouquet arrived at her office.

Not red roses.

White orchids.

Minimalist. Elegant. Her favorite.

No card.

Just a small crystal charm attached with gold wire that read:

"Z+T"-their old signature.

She rolled her eyes.

"Desperate," she muttered, but didn't throw it away.

She put it in water.

Then pretended she didn't.

Meanwhile, Tyler was building.

Literally.

He partnered with Zara's foundation-without telling her-and donated to refurbish an entire girl's dormitory in Ibadan. But he didn't put his name on it. No press. No credits. Just clean renovations, new beds, solar lighting, and a single note inside the principal's desk drawer:

"For the girls who will grow up to lead the world. -T.M."

Zara found out from the NGO's manager.

She was stunned.

"You didn't know?" the manager asked.

Zara shook her head, lips parted. "He didn't say anything."

"Men like him don't usually keep things quiet."

Zara laughed softly. "Exactly."

That night, Kiki FaceTimed her.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

"No," Zara said too fast.

"Zara."

She sighed. "He's doing things. Real things. But I don't know if it's love or guilt."

"Maybe it's both," Kiki replied. "But maybe he finally understands what it means to show up."

Zara posted a picture later that night.

No caption.

Just a mirror selfie-white two-piece lounge set, no makeup, soft curls. Vibes: healing but watching.

Tyler saw it.

His chest tightened.

He didn't like or comment.

But he stared at it for a long time.

Because for the first time in months, she looked like peace.

Not pain.

And that meant he had a long way to go.

But he was ready.

Because this time, he wasn't chasing a perfect photo.

He was chasing the woman he broke.

And maybe-just maybe-she was starting to believe he meant it.