I had been stressed for weeks.

My car, the one thing I had worked so hard for, the one thing that symbolized progress for me, was close to being repossessed. I had defaulted on my asset finance loan because life had become heavy and my finances were struggling. Every call and every message from the financier felt like pressure closing in on me.

One morning I finally decided to go to their head office in Upper Hill and face the situation directly. I was directed to the waiting area where I sat quietly watching the office environment around me. People walked through the aisles with purpose, moving in and out of different departments. I felt as if the world around me was moving while I was stuck under the weight of my thoughts.

The secretary approached and informed me that the account manager I was scheduled to meet was unavailable. My case had been reassigned to someone else. I nodded, unsure of what to expect, almost bracing myself for disappointment.

That is when she appeared.

She walked down the office corridor toward me and I genuinely thought I was imagining the moment. Her hair moved softly as if there was a breeze meant only for her. Her steps were calm and graceful. She carried herself like someone who did not need attention to be noticed; it simply came to her.

With measured steps she directly came to me. Gave me a firm handshake and introduced herself.

“ Hello, my name is Maureen and I am the one in charge of your account…” she said.

She was petite in the most beautiful and gentle way. I suddenly understood why people say petite women could be the key ingredient to happiness. There was something soft and warm about her presence, something simple yet powerful. She greeted me kindly and led me into a meeting room. It was just the two of us in that quiet space.

She began to speak about my loan situation, but all I could focus on was her. The tone of her voice. The way she smiled between sentences. The light movements of her hands when she explained things. I heard her, but at the same time I simply saw her. She did not rush me or treat me like a problem. She listened. Truly listened.

She helped me restructure the loan. She negotiated for me. She even arranged a grace period of one extra month to give me time to stabilize my situation. I remember sitting across from her thinking that if she was the force meant to defeat me, I would not resist. I would willingly accept that fate.

Yet even with how strongly I felt, I never asked for her number. Not because I did not want to, but because I was unsure of myself. At that time, I felt she existed on a level far above the ordinary. She seemed too perfect to be part of this world.

After that day, I found myself returning to the office often. Sometimes for valid reasons. Sometimes for reasons I created, just so I could see her again. Mosh became the reason my steps led back to that building.

Now it is today.
My loan is fully paid.
My last installment is complete.

And today I am going back to that office once more.
Not to discuss financial matters.
Not to ask for assistance.

Today I am going to open my heart to her and ask her if she could give me a chance.