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Every Thursday at 3pm had become a date. A day I looked forward to with much enthusiasm.

Ever since the first delivery by this average-height, stunning man about a month ago, I had waited for him. He was never a second late—always right on time.

That Thursday, the chime of the doorbell was quite irritating and I muttered under my breath, picturing myself pulling out a gun on the intruder. I just wanted to be left alone. That was the effect of working remotely and playing shooter games all day.

Then I peeped through the hole and froze for a moment. The doorbell rang again, snapping me out of my daze. 

He was beautiful in a soft way, yet undeniably masculine. Sturdy with a stubble beard and a defined jawline, he kept glancing at the package in his hand. His hand moved to press the doorbell again just as I snatched the door open.

Then I remembered I was in my thigh-length, worn-out T-shirt and my hair loosely tied up in a messy bun. My welcoming smile faltered a little at this knowledge but his calm smile swept my self-consciousness away. 

“Are you Mariam Oke?” He asked, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Uhh…erm, yes. I have a package?” 

What a dumb question. I knew it but it was out before I could stop it. He chuckled, displaying a dimple on the left cheek and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered wildly. 

After signing for my package, we chatted a little before he left. All day long, I couldn't get the young man in the orange coloured DHL vest and face cap off my mind. 

The package contained the perfumes and designer clothes I'd asked Diana, my cousin, staying in the US, to buy and send to me. Once the light bulb went off in my head, I asked (well, bullied) her to buy and send me more things every week. 

It worked. 

The next Thursday at exactly 3pm, Daniel was at my doorstep again. I rushed to the door, well dressed in a maroon cashmere top and black joggers. The light in his brown eyes and calming smile were the approval I needed. 

“Good to see you again, Miss Oke.”

“Hi, Daniel," I smiled coyly. "Please call me Mariam.” He nodded and handed me a package of things I didn't need. We chatted a little and I learned he worked as a courier part time while also lecturing at a community college in the evenings. I was impressed.

He couldn't stay longer to chat because he had other deliveries. I found myself wanting more time with this man. 

By the third and fourth deliveries to my apartment, Daniel joked that, ‘he suspected I was deliberately ordering stuff just to see him.’ I laughed and winked at him, promising to see him next Thursday.

I didn't want to chat anymore. It was time to lay my cards on the table and find out if he felt the same way I did. 

By Thursday, my apartment was deep cleaned and spotless. Dinner was prepared and finely laid out on the table. The roar of the motorcycle outside made my heart beat faster. 

Daniel was here! 

I jumped to my feet to open the door. The sweet smile I wore quickly faded, like a dying plant in the sun. Contrary to my expectations, Daniel was not delivering my package that day. 

A middle-aged woman in an orange DHL vest just hopping off her motorcycle, raised her head to look at me. 

I stood there in my deep-pink sequin dress that accentuated my curves in an enticing way. My makeup was flawless and the curls framing my face made me confident. But it was all for nothing. 

She saw right through me immediately, giving me a once-over. My chest tightened in pain and disappointment. *Who dressed up like this to meet a delivery man?* It was an awkward moment for me. *Why didn't Daniel come?*

“Uh, hi. You have a package for me?”

She nodded, handing it to me. “Miss Mariam Oke?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Daniel couldn't make it today. He's no longer working with us.” She relayed this information with a cringe grin, watching for my reaction like she knew something I didn't. *Could she guess what I was up to? Or had Daniel mentioned me to her?*

“See you next week, Miss,” she said, revving her motorcycle and zooming off.

“I don't think so,” I murmured, dragging my disappointed self back into my apartment.

I never saw Daniel again. 


 <sup><sub>*Image credit: [ChriskyKey](https://pixabay.com/photos/delivery-man-courier-door-service-6735532/)*</sup></sup>

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